Wayne Finch
Enthusiast
...article in today's National Post newspaper
One presumes, from their mewlings, that current Viper owners are so manly, so very, very macho that they spend their mornings sparring with Mike Tyson, afternoons scaling the Matterhorn sans safety ropes and their evenings satisfying previously insatiable nymphomaniacs.
I say presumes because what other conclusion can one draw from their plaints that the new Viper has been sissified. That somehow 505 cubic inches are no longer enough. That 10 monstrous cylinders are somehow too few. And that 500 horsepower is no longer sufficient to get their adrenalin pumping.
Never mind that the new Viper will spin its meaty 345/30ZR20 rear Michelins with just a whiff of throttle. Or that it accelerates so startlingly quick from 120 kilometres an hour to 250 that it's not a matter of if you will lose your driver's licence but when. Not to mention that it corners so adroitly the g-forces will banish the wrinkles from your skin.
They're pissed and they don't mind who knows about it. In fact, by Chrysler's own admission, almost half of Viper owners don't think the new version is tough enough.
The cause of all this ire? Why, the new Viper dares to have air conditioning. And, gosh darn it, it works. Which means the interior doesn't turn into a sauna every time you start the car. And that your passenger doesn't faint from heat stroke every time you go for a long drive in the country.
Or maybe it's the roof. Again, the "problem" is it actually works. It seals out the rain, it doesn't look like a bad shoe salesman's toupee and it stows oh so simply in the rear trunk. The previous R/T10's top was an afterthought that had to be stored every time one wanted to drive alfresco.
Perhaps it is that the radio now makes more noise than the valve tappets. Or that you can fit more than a woman's handbag in the rear trunk. Most probably, it's that Chrysler's styling gurus -- the best in the biz -- have managed to turn the R/T10's cartoonish muscularity into something far more attractive and, dare I say it, almost refined. Of course, if your role model is Sylvester Stallone's steroid-pumping Rambo character, then you'd probably call the new Viper "European". Which, in case you're wondering, would be an insult, a way of calling it effete.
This, of course, is that same type of idiocy that has caused many Porschephiles to lament the new 911s as too easy to drive. Indeed, it seems Zuffenhausen's taming of its wayward, rear- engined supercar has met with derision. That the car now corners better, steers more precisely and is ultimately much quicker around a race track are somehow bad things. They miss the days when a 911 Turbo rode like a truck, had a powerband like a light switch and, most of all, surprised you at the most inopportune time by losing control and becoming one with a guard-rail. Even the motivation behind their lament was the same as Viper owners. They miss the day when it took a "real man" to drive an old 911. When only the few, the brave and the foolhardy had the cojones to drive a 911 fast. Now, for God's sake, anyone can be competent behind the wheel of a Porsche.
Of course, these idiots have missed the point. The goal of progress is to improve, not regress. Engineering is the art of making things better, not worse. And making the Viper look better, ride more compliantly, drive more comfortably and go miles faster is a good thing.
One presumes, from their mewlings, that current Viper owners are so manly, so very, very macho that they spend their mornings sparring with Mike Tyson, afternoons scaling the Matterhorn sans safety ropes and their evenings satisfying previously insatiable nymphomaniacs.
I say presumes because what other conclusion can one draw from their plaints that the new Viper has been sissified. That somehow 505 cubic inches are no longer enough. That 10 monstrous cylinders are somehow too few. And that 500 horsepower is no longer sufficient to get their adrenalin pumping.
Never mind that the new Viper will spin its meaty 345/30ZR20 rear Michelins with just a whiff of throttle. Or that it accelerates so startlingly quick from 120 kilometres an hour to 250 that it's not a matter of if you will lose your driver's licence but when. Not to mention that it corners so adroitly the g-forces will banish the wrinkles from your skin.
They're pissed and they don't mind who knows about it. In fact, by Chrysler's own admission, almost half of Viper owners don't think the new version is tough enough.
The cause of all this ire? Why, the new Viper dares to have air conditioning. And, gosh darn it, it works. Which means the interior doesn't turn into a sauna every time you start the car. And that your passenger doesn't faint from heat stroke every time you go for a long drive in the country.
Or maybe it's the roof. Again, the "problem" is it actually works. It seals out the rain, it doesn't look like a bad shoe salesman's toupee and it stows oh so simply in the rear trunk. The previous R/T10's top was an afterthought that had to be stored every time one wanted to drive alfresco.
Perhaps it is that the radio now makes more noise than the valve tappets. Or that you can fit more than a woman's handbag in the rear trunk. Most probably, it's that Chrysler's styling gurus -- the best in the biz -- have managed to turn the R/T10's cartoonish muscularity into something far more attractive and, dare I say it, almost refined. Of course, if your role model is Sylvester Stallone's steroid-pumping Rambo character, then you'd probably call the new Viper "European". Which, in case you're wondering, would be an insult, a way of calling it effete.
This, of course, is that same type of idiocy that has caused many Porschephiles to lament the new 911s as too easy to drive. Indeed, it seems Zuffenhausen's taming of its wayward, rear- engined supercar has met with derision. That the car now corners better, steers more precisely and is ultimately much quicker around a race track are somehow bad things. They miss the days when a 911 Turbo rode like a truck, had a powerband like a light switch and, most of all, surprised you at the most inopportune time by losing control and becoming one with a guard-rail. Even the motivation behind their lament was the same as Viper owners. They miss the day when it took a "real man" to drive an old 911. When only the few, the brave and the foolhardy had the cojones to drive a 911 fast. Now, for God's sake, anyone can be competent behind the wheel of a Porsche.
Of course, these idiots have missed the point. The goal of progress is to improve, not regress. Engineering is the art of making things better, not worse. And making the Viper look better, ride more compliantly, drive more comfortably and go miles faster is a good thing.
