2013: Return of the Hypercar

Every so often in history comes an event that proves to be truly game-changing, an occasion that potentially has the ability to change the very make-up of certain aspects of society, or even wholesale changes to society itself. As the world prepared to usher in the new millenium, certain morons started to run around like headless chickens claiming that the modern computer, which had brought us such wonders as the internet and digital music, could not account for the fact that we had all woken up bleary-eyed to another day. A society that trusted the computer to power its everyday financial and social lives suddenly believed that changing the date would be too taxing for its gigabytes, and so the Millennium Bug hysteria was born.

This time round however computers will not have to fret their keyboards, nor will religionists in the world's only ex-colonial superpower have to shout "Armageddon", because this whirlwind event is coming to the motor industry. After a hiatus of almost a decade, the stars are aligned and 2013 is promising to be the year of the hypercar. Call it hypercar 2.0. In fact the digital allusion seems to fit the bill perfectly because the storm that is coming is not merely the product of flammable liquids but also of silicon, software and white lab coats.

Whilst the Bible foresaw the arrival of the four horses of the apocalypse, this new vehicular Armageddon has to make do (damn EU spending cuts) with a miserly three from three distinctly different stables, Porsche, Ferrari and McLaren. All usher in a new means of thinking on the traditional hypercar encompassing not only outright speed but dolphin-friendly hybridity and supreme aerodynamics.In no other motoring epoch has their been such a conscious effort from hypercar royalty to assuage the virulent hatred of the car from the likes of Greenpeace and every Hollywood A-lister.

All three have brought Formula One tech to the hypercar plate and incorporate in various forms the KERS energy recovery system to provide huge performance boosts on tap. All systems are frighteningly complicated and likely to induce beard growth but be assured of this, speed is going to need a new dictionary definition. However, ludicrous power combined with an average weight of 1500kg between them it seems unlikely that any definition other than soiled underwear will fit the bill. To my mind there seems to be just one problem. With all the Formula One influence creeping in to hypercars these days what is there to separate you from the dreariness of the actual team drivers themselves. Barring Raikonnen, all are as dull as dishwasher instruction manuals and that is why if I was blessed with deep pockets (One million pounds plus deep in all cases) I would head straight for something that foregoes energy conservation for energy usage that would make Las Vegas cower in fear, the Pagani Huayra. Nothing balances hypercar excess, panache and technicality so perfectly and the fact that it is named after a god of wind makes it an instant, and amusing sell.

The Last Line of Luxury

Unless your name is Adolf and your surname Hitler, nationalism and national pride is a very good thing and something that must be actively promoted. In the modern age of globalisation and cultural monotony, it is nice to know that there are stereotypes and institutions in place that allow a nation to stand out amongst peers, breaking through from the homogenised mulch the world has descended into. The Irish are now known as infamous drinkers, Germans are notoriously boring and efficient, America is one large cheeseburger and the French have a strange obsession with onions. But what of Britain? Barring the inevitable references to the slightly moisture-rich climate and a seemingly daft obsession with tradition, tea and royalty, Britain has now become the last bastion of something the public at large never knew was disappearing, the luxury car.

Bland styling mirroring national identity

It is essential though that one does not confuse the term luxury car with the definition given to luxury by the country that defines vulgarity, the United States of America. The country that gave us Las Vegas and spray-on cheese seems to think that luxury is creating a car that is a nerd's wet dream with more kit and gadgetry than Microsoft, whilst over in Britain, luxury is defined by comfort and peace and quiet. Or in other words, being civilised. Britain now has the right to the domain of the luxury car due to the demise of the last non-British luxury car maker, Maybach. Mercedes recently confirmed that the giant luxo-barges, available in enormous 57 or stratospheric 62 sizes, would be pulled from production leaving only Rolls Royce, and in some part Bentley to cater for the market.

The demise of the renowned German marque brings to light the difference between the British sense of luxury and that of the rest of the world. Rolls Royce perceives luxury to be more than loads of kit and shag pile but also that a car's interior must have an ambiance of serenity. The sound-proofing of a Rolls Royce phantom dominates the design and structure of the car to the point that where a Maybach would aim to blast you with its million watt audio system, the Phantom aims to soothe your brow and protect your ears from the attack of east coast rappers. And it would be rappers, because this was the Maybach's second downfall, it's clientele. Recent popular culture icons favoured the levels of gadgetry and one even made a convertible Maybach, whereas the Phantom is for those dressed in dinner jackets, not straightjackets. The look of the Maybach also proved to be far less appealing to potential buyers, so much so that it could be said that the Maybach mirrors the dull, humourless reputation that the Germans have become known for, in the automotive equivalent of a dog resembling its owner.

Automotive stiff upper lip

With the recently refreshed Range Rover and new Jaguar XJ catering for those whose bank accounts aren't measured in six figures, it seems that Britain can claim to be the stereotypical purveyor of good taste and class in the automotive world and I for one salute this image. Now, what to do with the football hooligans?

Obituary: Fond Farewell to Fury

The last few decades has seen an enormous heightening of society's ecological awareness and this has caused people to finally cotton on to an alarming human trait that we are extremely good at killing off other things. Whilst we cannot claim to have been the instigator of the events that led to the sudden disappearance of Tyrannosaurus Rex, we have added many notches to the bedpost of extinction with efforts such as the wooly mammoth, the dodo and, more recently, a Chinese river dolphin, which is hardly surprising given  that Chinese rivers have begun to look like fluvial Fukushimas. Our insatiable desire to aid animals in their progression from this world to the next also springs from the fact that we possess something that most animals do not, a modicum of common sense. Yes, whilst the dolphin may have developed ways of corralling fish against river banks, through the simple application of a bit of ingenuity we developed something called a net which proved to be rather effective. Or over-effective in Spain's case. Animals may be intelligent, but only in relation to non-humans, as even a slobbering oaf is more intelligent than the next animal soon to shuffle its mortal coil, the giant panda, an animal so blitheringly daft that it faces extinction because it refuses to mate with the opposite sex.

   

Soon to join the ranks of the dodo and woolly mammoth. Pity

This neatly brings me onto something that, unlike the animals, we created and now faces extinction at our own hands, the V12 combustion engine. It seems then that the days of the glorious wail of the V12 in masterpieces such as the Lamborghini Miura, Ferrari Enzo and the Pagani Zonda are numbered. The environ(mentalist) and his association of polar bears has instilled a sense of global anxiety in the world surrounding ecological sustainability that no obscure Yangtze dolphin or Japanese Sea Lion has ever managed. Conveniently the state of the V12 represents the state of any species that, in futility attempts to remain on terra firma, as both have outlasted their usefulness. The giant panda no longer sees its own kind as worthy of a bit of rumpy-pumpy so therefore should be removed, and in the same sense so should the V12. Ecological awareness is not a forte of the V12 and yet we can still reach similar power outputs and vastly improved economy from a smaller number of cylinders through a large dollop of ingenuity and a couple of turbochargers, just look at the new M5 or 911. Some may claim that American V8's are far more thirsty than European V12's and they'd be right, but sadly the world now has to bend over to the land of the cheeseburger and gloss over their (innumerable) shortcomings. Luckily though, this biased gridlock may soon end with McDonald's providing the very real possibility of obesity creating an American dodo situation. 

Brave New World?

I for one will mourn the passing of the engine that has been fitted to some of the most iconic symbols of modern automotive and social culture and will miss the hallowed sound of the V12 blasting past, however if it entails a future of more powerful, guilt-free engines being at the forefront then who is to stop it. A world where one can have more than a food blender under the bonnet and less Greenpeacists nagging your conscience seems like a suitable plan of conservation. 

On Her Majesty's Secret Wishlist: 2013 Aston Martin Vanquish

Traversing many eras, the James Bond franchise has seen many villains, women and gadgets, but when it comes to the infamous super-spy's choice of vehicle, there only seemed one logical choice: Aston Martin. Sure, he often deviated from his winged wonder but the replacements never quite gelled or offered the charisma and panache that both he and the cars had helped entrench. The BMW 750iL in Tomorrow Never Dies for example, was such a feeble attempt On Her Majesty's part that the car chase proved to be about as exciting as test driving a shopping trolley, and even Q looked bored when detailing it's array of weapons. The recent efforts of Casino Royale even saw Daniel Craig piloting a Ford Mondeo and an Aston Martin DBS simultaneously, in a hateful juxtaposition of the awesome and the awful.

Now however, Bond could be given the chance to revisit an old favourite, as Aston Martin have decided to revive the hallowed name of the Vanquish and provides Hollywood with an opportunity to reunite two great institutions.  Drawing heavily from the obscenely beautiful One-77, this new Vanquish is designed to replace the DBS when it goes on sale at the end of the year. Judging by the power output this new Aston is a more than capable replacement for the fiery DBS as the ever-present 6.0L V12 has been given a shot of life and now produces 573hp, amounting to an increase of 56 vital British thoroughbreds to its stable. Interestingly enough, the top speed is actually slower than the model it replaces but this number is insignificant- 183mph , if you must know- as the main reason for this car's existence is inducing low-speed mass hysteria as poor plebs bask in all it's R3.5mln glory.

Obviously, all recent Aston's are easy on the eyes but this new one can be seen as a climactic highlight of their current design language. From no angle does the Vanquish look wrong and it really is very hard to not drop one's jaw like a moron upon first gaze of that luscious side profile. The rear flanks have been made more curvaceous and raised, so now that the whole car arcs and rises elegantly. Aston Martin clearly recognise the potency of this silhouette as in their advertising bumf they state that it represents the "zenith of current Aston Martin design and engineering", a claim that both sees the present but admits change is on the horizon. It seems then that Bond's next move mustn't be to his gun or to the bra of the latest cover girl, but to the keys of the cars that like himself, embodies Britain. Moneypenny would approve.

Koenigsegg Agera R: Eco-Mentalist Wet Dream or 3rd World Nightmare

Up until the 90s, the fight between the carrot-brandishing environ(mentalists) and the rest of the sane world was a very quiet one. A no-meat diet was something for people with a love of beards and badgers and these few were largely obscured. The turn of the Millennium however heralded a change in society's perception of the environment. Suddenly people began to question the ethics of how Mildred the cow ended up on a bed of polystyrene, nestled next to the pork chops and spice mixes. A-list celebrities started to drive Prius' with their silly food-blender hybrids and it was now trendy to save the planet.

The once strong bastion of the combustion engine came under siege and detractors cried foul of how our love of black gold was ruining the ozone layer and that we were on borrowed time. Curiously though, many deemed Biofuel to be the future, a fuel source that converts vegetable matter into ethanol. It promised, and delivered, an increase in engine power and reliability whilst reducing emissions but faded from the limelight. Could it be making a comeback?

Look into my eyes!!!

Many will be surprised to hear that it is not being brought back to fuel the Prius that will ultimately drive Angelina Jolie and her Malawian orphanage around, but in a rather bonkers Swedish hypercar, the Koenigsegg Agera R. The brainchild of the mad (extremely bald) engineeer Christian von Koenigsegg this Bugatti Veyron-beating monster delivers 1140hp on E85 bioethanol, which is the equivalent of a 2000hp ozone killer. Ingeniously though the engine is able to run on both bioethanol and petrol thanks to its Flexfuel system. There is a trade-off however, in that running the engine on petrol reduces power output to a mere 960hp (one has to make sacrifices eh?).

The body continues the Koenigsegg design language of understated fury through science and maths. It is clear that every curve and scoop was designed to give the Agera R gecko-like grip and even the Top Gear-designed spoiler has been optimized to hunker the car down.

One thing is troubling though: bioethanol is made from food. This car and its fuel posits itself as green and good for the environment but this comes at the expense of growing food for transport. In a world of famines, hunger and droughts it is a miracle that it has caught on. The Americans have started to direct large sections of the corn crop that has given them obesity, into the production of fuel and it is increasing year-on-year. The ultimate success of bioethanol will depend upon human conscience: shall we fuel our twin-turbo monsters in a eco-friendly way making Americans thinner, or shall we accept that there are better options like Hydrogen and feed some Somali pirates?

Bentley EXP 9 F SUV

I would like to go on record from the outset and say that I'm an avid cook. It is one of life's great pleasures to take the time to actually prepare the ingredients that one shovels down one's throat with consummate ease. The variety of tastes and influences are seemingly endless but it is at this point that one must tread with caution. By all means try out Moroccan or Thai cuisines- steer clear of Korean unless you like your Jack Russell served rare- but do not begin to think that your late night tinkering with a Green Prawn curry is the de facto standard, or the best. If only the Germans- yes it's them again- had considered this when pondering the new Bentley concept.

Grille just oozes class

Over the last few years Bentley's clientele has undergone a large makeover resulting in a customer base that is more Rooney than retirement home. Bentley now sees it fit to cater to this new-money image by providing them with a truly British SUV, a car that will be the last line in size and luxury. Clearly however the recipe for what defines good British taste did not translate well for old Fritz. Whilst British design should be gracefully understated, this looks like it has been supping too long on the Bratwurst and Sauerkraut. Bentley's head of engineering, Rolf Frech, even had the audacity to state that this car would renew this "understated British design"language as if it had been lost. It is not as though they haven't seen a Spitfire before.

The body may have the aesthetic appeal of an abattoir but at least one can be sure that it will pack some grunt. This get-out-of-my-way poor person level of oomph comes from the 6.0l W12 that it shares with the Continental GT. Sources have stated that one should expect more than 600 hp and enough torque to change the tides, but it is not like this gargantuan power is surplus. With a kerb weight close to that of Uranus the fact that this moves on petrol power alone is a marvel, i'm surprised that it doesn't have a nuclear reactor.

Rolf please stop! Think of the children

Currently just a marketing experiment- there is a god!!- Bentley says that it aims to gauge customer and public reaction from its unveiling but judging by the out-of-order signs adorning the Geneva toilets it seems that it has left a bitter taste. So there you go, a new age recipe on understated British design from a country that understands Britain as much France. Not once have we tried to reinvent Sauerkraut but now we have been given a bastardized version of Bangers & Mash. Bad form, ol' chap.

New Mercedes SL: Have They Ruined It?

Film-making is a tricky business. It can be so easy for an Oscar-winning director to forgo all their natural Hollywood instincts and produce an absolute stinker that will become part of the annals of Rottentomatoes.com. Sequels like the many attributed to the Rambo and Exorcist series are visual proof that even the good directors can have days when they should rather have just stayed in bed. Upon gazing at the new Mercedes SL it is hard not be shocked, and it begs the question, is this American Pie 3?

Can controversial be good?

If one was to play the Hollywood image to Merc's SL history as a whole, it would be similar to that of James Bond. Both experienced their heyday in the 60s and 70s when they were the epitome of cool and have now hit a rather bad run of form. The original SL can still be counted as one of the most beautiful things to have not donned a bikini, whereas this 'model' (it seems idiotic calling it that) is the automotive equivalent of Borat's 'mankini'. It seems to combine many aspects of the current Merc range with the bastard throwbacks of old. The nose is a carbon copy of the one on the SLS whereas the car's elevated rear flanks evoke memories of the hideously obese SL's of the 90s.

Whilst the body seems to have undergone many botox treatments the mechanicals remain predictably Germanic i.e same engines, improved efficiency. Starting with just the 350 and the 500, the range will undoubtedly expand to include the SL63, the latest devilchild of the AMG skunkworks which promises to be a little more bearable with a purported 525+ hp under the hood. Fuel efficiency has now crept to over the 35mpg mark which means that the SL no longer takes its morning breakfast of unleaded with a shot of panda tears.

As is to be expected with Mercedes, and any German car to be honest, innovations abound. This time however none are game changing and all carry pitiful names. The first, Magic SkyControl, consists of an electrochromatic roof that changes from opaque to clear when a current is run through it. Turning this button will then turn your roof into a huge frosted glass window which should keep most Premiership footballers happy for the next few months. The second innovation is called Magic Vision where a heated  wiper blade ensures that no water actually splashes on the windscreen, curing a problem we never knew we had. Further tech showcases are present and worryingly all contain the 'Magic' moniker, which begs the question, has Fritz become a drug addict?

When all is said and done though, it is clear to see that the Germans haven't suddenly developed  a penchant for magic mushrooms or ecstasy, but have gone the way of James Bond post-Ian Fleming. Driven by their commercial ventures in the colonies, Mercedes have made the automotive equivalent of Daniel Craig. Great actor, awful screenplay.

The good ol' days