Car Treatment

From Reader GT3Ted:

  1. How many miles do you drive a year? — less than 100 miles per week, about 4,000 per annum.  Some weeks I don’t go out at all, other than a quick trip to the grocery store (about half a mile from the house).
  2. Primary trip type ? I’m assuming you don’t have a daily 30 mile comment to the city in stop & go heavy traffic 5 days a week — my only “regular” commute is to the range (4 miles), and that only once or twice / week.
  3. Short forays into the Texas Heat? Or more weekly 100 mile adventures? — the furthest I ever drive, and that maybe once a month, is to visit the Son&Heir or the Sooper-Seekrit Mailbox place, a 40-mile round trip.  Longer trips, maybe once a year.
  4. How religious are you about fluid changes? Not just occasional trips to Jiffy-lubes. When if ever did you have the transmission oil flushed and renewed. Engine coolant flushed and renewed? — I do a major fluid change every 25,000 miles, oil changed and fluids checked every 3,500 miles.  My transmission belt(s) will be due a change at the next major service (150,000 miles), which is going to cost me quite a bit.

I take car maintenance seriously, ever since my dad (an engineer) once said, “Look after a car engine properly, and it will last just about indefinitely.”

And I drive a car gently (nowadays;  not as a youngin of course, because hormones/testosterone):  no heavy acceleration, no speeding, none of that stuff.

The Search Continues

At the risk of boring everyone, I’m going to continue the thread of “If the Tiguan were to blow up suddenly, what car could / should I replace it with?”

It will be a regular, but occasional post.

Here are my criteria:  preferably pre-1995, stick shift, costing no more than $40,000, reliable (for an older car), roomy (i.e. no sports cars — I still have stuff to schlep around).

And then there’s this one — lamentably in Yurp, which means shipping costs and some kind of import duty — but it still gets my juices going:

1993 BMW 30 Touring ($37,000)

I’m actually a huge fan of small station wagons — I’ve owned three before: VW Jetta, VW Passat and Opel Ascona (Chev Cavalier, for my Murkin Readers).  I loved all of them, without exception, and would take one over any SUV, every day of the week.  Moreover, I loves me my 3-series Beemers;  I still look back on my 318i with fondness and longing.

I’m a little leery of the stated mileage (only 29,000? WTF).

And then there’s this (from the website):

“The E30 Touring represents the last 3 Series BMW built in a truly ‘old-school”’way: without intrusive electronics, with analog gauges, genuine steering feel, and that unmistakable E30 atmosphere.”

I think they’ve been reading my blog.

Different Wheels

Following yesterday’s rant about modern-day cars and their godless, snooping manufacturers, I want to say this.

One of these days, I’m going to need a new car — the Tiguan’s odometer is nudging 150,000 miles pretty hard, and every time I set off on any kind of trip, I’m apprehensive.

I have no idea how I’m going to afford it without draining our meager savings;  I may have to auction off almost all my guns to a certain group of gun-loving Readers I happen to know, just to defray some of the cost.

But just so everyone’s clear on the topic:  given all that’s appeared above, there is no way I will ever consider a “new” car — i.e. one made since the mid-1990s — but I’ll aim for one made without too much electronic equipment.  Here’s an example:

1993 Mercedes Benz 300CE ($38,000)

Less than 35,000 miles, that lovely 3.2-liter engine, and a Euro-spec stick shift… oh be still, my beating heart.

Of course, by the time I would actually be in a place to buy this magnificent car, it would be long sold (because duh);  but it should give you an idea of the direction I’m aiming.

There’s another option:  American cars.  But to find one of those that was made before 1995 and hasn’t been hot-rodded to hell and back?  That makes me really nervous.  (And I can’t go with a truck — New Wife is adamant on this.)  Plus, except for the 65 Mustangs, American cars of that era a generally fugly.

I will accept any and all thoughts on the topic.  Be kind, willya?

Little Brother

It’s one thing to have to deal with the Gummint snooping on your every move — literal, and figurative (i.e. your online activities) — but it’s another thing to having GlobalMegaCorp sniffing into your business as well.

Here’s how all this started:

Ruter, the [Norwegian] transit authority that runs public buses across Oslo and Akershus, parked two electric buses inside an isolated facility built into a mountain, the kind of shielded space normally used to keep radio signals from leaking in or out, and let its own security engineers take them apart. One bus came from Yutong, the Chinese manufacturer that has quietly become one of Europe’s largest electric bus suppliers. The other was a three-year-old unit from VDL, a Dutch manufacturer. Ruter chose that pairing deliberately: the two buses sit at opposite ends of how connected a modern transit vehicle can be.

And the findings?

Ruter’s own published findings are blunt about the VDL [Dutch] bus: it has no capability for over-the-air software updates at all. Every change to its systems requires a technician to physically connect a cable. That makes it a hassle to service. It also makes it nearly impossible to hijack remotely, which is exactly why Ruter’s engineers moved past it quickly.

The Yutong [Chinese] bus is the opposite. It receives software and diagnostic updates automatically, the same way a phone downloads a firmware patch overnight, except this particular phone weighs roughly 30,000 pounds and carries dozens of passengers through Oslo traffic. That connection routes through a Romanian SIM card, which gives Yutong direct digital access to the bus’s battery and power management systems. Ruter’s engineers concluded that, in theory, this access could be used to stop the bus or render it inoperable, not through some elaborate hack, but simply because the manufacturer already has a standing door into those systems for legitimate diagnostic and update purposes.

Wile all this is alarming, it’s not really surprising.  We’ve known for ages that the godless ChiCommies have their dirty little ears glued to just about every damn piece of electronic equipment our friends (!) in Silicon Valley have outsourced to their manufacture.

So now we get to the part that makes me start fixing a lunch bucket, scoping out high buildings and cleaning the Mauser.

None of what Ruter found is exotic. It’s the standard architecture of any modern connected vehicle, and American drivers have been living with a version of it for nearly two decades. General Motors’ OnStar system can, at the company’s discretion, send a cellular command to a stolen vehicle that blocks the ignition from restarting once it’s parked, or gradually slows a moving vehicle so police can recover it safely. That is functionally the same category of access Ruter found in the Yutong bus: a persistent, manufacturer-controlled cellular link with authority over propulsion-adjacent systems, built into the vehicle before it ever reaches a customer’s driveway.

So Big Auto are a bunch of snooping smegma-eaters.  We know that, too.

The distinction that actually matters here isn’t whether a manufacturer can reach into a vehicle remotely. Almost every connected car sold today allows that, by design, for updates, diagnostics, and theft recovery. What matters is who holds the authority to use that access, under what legal process, and how many vehicles go dark at once if that access is ever misused, subpoenaed, or compromised.

A single stolen sedan getting slowed to a stop by its own manufacturer is a feature working as intended. An entire transit authority’s bus fleet answering to a remote command from a foreign supplier’s server is a different order of risk entirely, which is exactly why Ruter escalated this to Norway’s national government instead of treating it as an IT ticket.

Now comes the part that has me checking Ye Olde Ammoe Locquer for 8x57mm:

Chinese abuse of this little backdoor activity [sic] is bad, but in the bigger picture, it can be addressed with a carefully-aimed chunk or two of explosive material on the Three Gorges Dam.

What worries me more is that this little pipeline into our cars can also be — and is — at the beck and call of the auto manufacturers, who are only too ready to “share” that data with, say, the insurance industry (hello, fresh revenue stream), and if pressed just a little, with our own Gummint ghouls who infest the alphabet agencies (DHS, NSA, FBI, just to name the three biggest dicks aimed at out collective rectums).

I need to get to the range.  So if you’ll excuse me…

 

The Ultimate Q-Ship

Forgive me a little mansplaining here, but I was recently taken to task because “not everyone has had the education you’ve had, Kim” — leveled at me because I was talking about something that I just assumed everyone already knew, but in this particular case, not.

Anyway, the “Q-ship” concept came from the First World War, when, in an effort to combat the U-boat menace, the Royal Navy took ordinary merchant steamers, and added droppable shields to the desks — “droppable” in that when a U-boat would surface to sink the helpless merchant ship (which is what they often did), the prospective victim would lower the shields to reveal a nasty-looking gun which could easily sink said U-boat, and often did.

So put plainly, the Q-ship concept is to disguise power in an apparently-innocuous outer packaging.  Like in this case:

Now that’s a 1993 Mercedes E-class car, done in Standard Boring Mercedes Trim & Shape.  So why would this one, in particular, be on sale for just under $240,000?

Because it’s no ordinary Merc E-class;  it’s an E500, which has under its hood a growling monster 6.0-liter AMG V8, putting out 369hp.  (I know, that’s small potatoes compared to today’s behemoth engines, but back in the 90s it rivaled Ferraris.)

As I recall, Mercedes only ever made a couple hundred or so of these beasts, so the scarcity no doubt contributes to the price.

I once knew a guy who loved cars that looked unassuming, but were hidden dragons, simply because they didn’t attract the attention of Los Federales  in the same way that his rosso Ferrari Testarossa did.

I have to say that if I were in the market for a powerful car and had a spare quarter-million to drop on it, I’d want it to look just a leetle more impressive than something that looks like a banker would drive.  This Maserati MC20 comes to mind… and they cost a lot less than the E500.


I guess I could have just called it a “wolf in sheep’s clothing” and saved myself the tiresome mansplain at the beginning, but that only occurred to me after I’d written the thing.

Besides, I think “Q-ship” fits this E500 better than “wolf”, anyway.

Quote Of The Day

From Carl Hartley (of the Tom Hartley supercar dealership):

“The McLaren F1 tries to kill you.  It treats you like you shagged its wife and beat its kids.”

Actually, it’s being a little cheeky:  trying to kill you while it first plundered your bank balance to the tune of millions of dollars..

And he loves driving the thing.  Go figure.