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    The Guild of Calamitous Intent

    Walking up 22nd Street Hill is serious business for those of us not quite in the shape we'd like to be. It demands no smoking and an application of earnest Southeastern post-hardcore. And on the varying incline up 25th to Western Ave., we noticed a certain stride to the music, which got us thinking about the purposeful nature of certain cars. And we were surprised by what we saw. A last-gen Mustang didn't have it. A Mercury Villager and its Nissan Quest sibling did. Cars we'd never thought much of actually seemed to have a demeanor to them that actually mattered whereas some surprising examples didn't — a new Camry, the most performance-oriented of the breed absolutely didn't, and while we're a fan of the late-model Civics, the hybrid model pulling out of the Von's parking lot seemed lost. It may be a surgical transport tool, but it doesn't resemble a doctor born for a purpose. On the other hand, an early-'80s Toyota pickup absolutely did. Honestly, shutting off our brain and just looking for the intent in a car's makeup opened our eyes to a whole 'nother take on appreciating automotive styiling. Try it yourself and report back.


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