Bad behaviour

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Nothing conveys the frictional violence of speed better than the car. It’s an epochal icon and it’s a surrogate for masculinity. And soon we’ll have F1 street racing in Singapore. Racing… isn’t that the most fantastic outgrowth of our fascination with the car? Drivers hurtle around in circles, at the limits of adhesion. Some lose control and end up dead, mutilated or crippled. And yet it’s one of the most fanatically pursued of all sports: at an amateur level, enthusiasts spend everything they have on it, and more. (I’m glad to report I’ve only spent $2000 modifying my little Suzuki Swift.) But really, morbidity, health and sex don’t even begin, however, to elucidate the human fascination with speed.

But on a different tone, man I do love cars. Signs that you’ve been completely possessed by tuners, muscles and exotics:

1. When you’ve played Need for Speed: Carbon for a relentless 5 hours straight.

2. You’ve bookmarked all the famous “zhng-ing” garages like Fong Kim and Jeep Chee in your browser.

3. You’ve downloaded the .pdf order form for the million-pound Bugatti Veryon and have chosen your colours already. (Please get the form here)

4. You don’t mind compiling the exhaust sounds of different Ferraris on an MP3 track.

5. Your mind is actually engaged watching that silly underground car scene in Tokyo Drift whilst enjoying an inane song from Teriyaki Boyz. But hang on, are the following present and accounted for in that film: Car chases? Check. Fancy pop sounds and pimp music? Check. Nubile females in short skirts? Double Check!wallpaper4.jpg

Poison, I tell you…And here’s hoping that in the midst of this madness, I don’t succumb to gridlock and road rage whilst driving.

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