This is why I'm trying to order a Charger Pursuit: it seems to be the least crapware-laden hemi Charger, vinyl "carpet" and all.
Saab 96 V4.
Partly. Sources of A/V will become ubiquitous -- any ten people will be capturing dozens of streams at once -- but it will also become almost impossible to permanently block it.
Sure, there will be ways to scramble the instantaneous transmission of signal to the Internet, just as there are now dead spots in cellular networks. The equipment will have enough onboard storage to cache a considerable amount of audio & video, and will transmit it at the first opportunity.
Sure, there will be ways to scramble the instantaneous transmission of signal to the Internet, just as there are now dead spots in cellular networks. The equipment will have enough onboard storage to cache a considerable amount of audio & video, and will transmit it at the first opportunity.
Clumsy now, but this is the future: wearable cameras.
Within a few years, most people will be recording multiple video and audio feeds -- and streaming them online -- through much smaller cameras built into normal-looking apparel, accessories, and even contact lenses.
This will make it impossible to avoid video surveillance, which won't be an easy adjustment for criminals, rapists, sexual harrassers, and cops clearing out protesters.
Within a few years, most people will be recording multiple video and audio feeds -- and streaming them online -- through much smaller cameras built into normal-looking apparel, accessories, and even contact lenses.
This will make it impossible to avoid video surveillance, which won't be an easy adjustment for criminals, rapists, sexual harrassers, and cops clearing out protesters.
Then, when we finally figure out how to tap directly into the optic and auditory nerves, those gadgets will seem so 21st century...
My elderly father was sent home from the hospital for the last time. I live in Delaware; he lives 1250 miles away near Tulsa.
I got into my trusty 2001 Police Interceptor, alone, and arrived there less than 19-1/2 hours later. I would have stopped for the night -- I did on every other trip I've made out there -- but I was afraid I might miss the last chance to see him.
I got into my trusty 2001 Police Interceptor, alone, and arrived there less than 19-1/2 hours later. I would have stopped for the night -- I did on every other trip I've made out there -- but I was afraid I might miss the last chance to see him.
My kid used everything in Baghdad in 2003, including -- at the end of a long, unsupplied cavalry charge toward Baghdad -- Kalashnikovs liberated from still-warm Iraqi corpses.
For the close-quarters stuff, he would have preferred my Saiga-12 to any of them.
For the close-quarters stuff, he would have preferred my Saiga-12 to any of them.
I hate that I like the trailer.
It's even more shameful than laughing at Family Guy.
It's even more shameful than laughing at Family Guy.
I worked for an auto parts store that bought an E250 in the '80s, and had only one driver use it for a long daily route.
After 227,000 miles, the water pump on the 300-cid inline 6 went bad.
That is all.
After 227,000 miles, the water pump on the 300-cid inline 6 went bad.
That is all.
I grew up near Atlantic City, so I guess it would have to be a Chevy P30 stepvan.
2001 Ford Police Interceptor (P71: the real one)
It's actually slower than you think, topping out at 129 mph. It won't beat any of these top-ten cars from 0-60... but you aren't likely to race it anyway, unless my wife is driving.
It's actually slower than you think, topping out at 129 mph. It won't beat any of these top-ten cars from 0-60... but you aren't likely to race it anyway, unless my wife is driving.
2012 Dodge Charger Pursuit.
I'm trying to get the wife to allow me to buy a new one next spring, but I'll probably have to settle for a used one in five or six years.
I'm trying to get the wife to allow me to buy a new one next spring, but I'll probably have to settle for a used one in five or six years.
I'm sticking with miles per hour... or, more specifically, miles per minute.... for sentimental reasons.
Myy dear departed Dad, who left this veil of tears just last week, explained highway calculus almost 40 years ago: "Sixty miles per hour equals one mile per minute. Any modern car can exceed 60 mph, but it's pretty much impossible to average a mile a minute on long trips when you factor in bathroom stops, traffic and meals."
As you can imagine, I've spent much of his remaining years proving him wrong. It's easy enough to keep track: know how many minutes I've been driving, and see if it's less than the miles I've covered. Since I bought the Bluesmobile pictured at left, I've managed to drive 700 miles in under ten hours a few times, and of course I couldn't wait to tell Dad.
So, when I got the call from Oklahoma that he was dying, I got into my ratty old Police Interceptor and drove to his side straight through from Delaware, 1240 miles in 1180 minutes, at an average speed of just over 63 miles per hour. I wasn't trying to prove anything to anyone; I was merely afraid -- OK, terrified -- that I wouldn't get there in time to see him.
He wasn't expecting me; Mom didn't tell him I was coming. The first question (and one of the last questions) he asked me was, "How long did it take you to get here?"
Of course, I told him. He tried to sound like he disapproved, but he wasn't fooling either of us.
Thanks, Dad.
Myy dear departed Dad, who left this veil of tears just last week, explained highway calculus almost 40 years ago: "Sixty miles per hour equals one mile per minute. Any modern car can exceed 60 mph, but it's pretty much impossible to average a mile a minute on long trips when you factor in bathroom stops, traffic and meals."
As you can imagine, I've spent much of his remaining years proving him wrong. It's easy enough to keep track: know how many minutes I've been driving, and see if it's less than the miles I've covered. Since I bought the Bluesmobile pictured at left, I've managed to drive 700 miles in under ten hours a few times, and of course I couldn't wait to tell Dad.
So, when I got the call from Oklahoma that he was dying, I got into my ratty old Police Interceptor and drove to his side straight through from Delaware, 1240 miles in 1180 minutes, at an average speed of just over 63 miles per hour. I wasn't trying to prove anything to anyone; I was merely afraid -- OK, terrified -- that I wouldn't get there in time to see him.
He wasn't expecting me; Mom didn't tell him I was coming. The first question (and one of the last questions) he asked me was, "How long did it take you to get here?"
Of course, I told him. He tried to sound like he disapproved, but he wasn't fooling either of us.
Thanks, Dad.
I saw a few of the earlier-generation (late-90's) Crown Victoria Police models on the streets of Moscow in 2004. They managed to simultaneously look totally cool (with the Russian decals) and totally out of place among the Russian cars that would fit in their trunks.
Tuesday 30 August: burned a tank of gas at an average speed (including a rest stop and the refueling time) of 67.2 mph, and got 24.2 miles per gallon... in my battered, bone-stock Police Interceptor with 137K miles on the original engine and transmission.
I saw one of the last truckloads of new Police Interceptors on Tuesday August 30th... it was eastbound on the PA Turnpike.
This sad picture was sweetened by its frame: I saw it through the bug-spattered windshield of my 2001 Police Interceptor, which was westbound at 80+ mph.
This sad picture was sweetened by its frame: I saw it through the bug-spattered windshield of my 2001 Police Interceptor, which was westbound at 80+ mph.
When the strongest shaking hit, I took a personal inventory, patting my pockets:
"Wallet, phone, revolver... OK, I'm out of here."
"Wallet, phone, revolver... OK, I'm out of here."
The only good thing is that he mostly kept it together until he crossed into Maryland...
Here's the ultimate "tool" for turning back an angry mob.
The Saiga-12 is the fastest Lead Delivery System available to the general public. With detachable large-capacity magazines, there is no device on God's gray Earth that can deliver an entire box of 12-gauge shotgun shells to the waiting angry hordes in under 30 seconds. It was built by the company that still makes the AK-74, Ak-47 and AKM, still under the loving paternal gaze of Mikhail Timofeyevich Kalashnikov himself.
This isn't a stock image from the Web, it's my own personal shotgun. I am a pacifist, but I am also a pessimist...
(Oh, wait, they're not available in England? What a backward country they must be)!
The Saiga-12 is the fastest Lead Delivery System available to the general public. With detachable large-capacity magazines, there is no device on God's gray Earth that can deliver an entire box of 12-gauge shotgun shells to the waiting angry hordes in under 30 seconds. It was built by the company that still makes the AK-74, Ak-47 and AKM, still under the loving paternal gaze of Mikhail Timofeyevich Kalashnikov himself.
This isn't a stock image from the Web, it's my own personal shotgun. I am a pacifist, but I am also a pessimist...
(Oh, wait, they're not available in England? What a backward country they must be)!
I've been to Russia, and I married a Russian woman... (no, I didn't find her on the Internet, or buy her on eBay).
I can tell you this: walking down the street in the average midsize Russian city is like waking up at the Playboy mansion. The women are absolutely incredible... and they are well-dressed, and their hair and makeup are perfect. The biggest risk an American man faces in Russia is neck injury from snapping his head around to see the supermodel/Playmate who just walked by.
I will also state that every American male should marry a Russian woman as his second wife, because they he will realize just how lucky he is. Subservient... not: my wife has a law degree, and doesn't take crap from anyone (least of all me). A true equal partner? Absolutely.
I can tell you this: walking down the street in the average midsize Russian city is like waking up at the Playboy mansion. The women are absolutely incredible... and they are well-dressed, and their hair and makeup are perfect. The biggest risk an American man faces in Russia is neck injury from snapping his head around to see the supermodel/Playmate who just walked by.
I will also state that every American male should marry a Russian woman as his second wife, because they he will realize just how lucky he is. Subservient... not: my wife has a law degree, and doesn't take crap from anyone (least of all me). A true equal partner? Absolutely.
