Tonight we each pick a car from the tv/movie list here to write about. We’ll be doing this about once a week, so feel free to keep adding suggestions to that list.

This wasn’t a difficult first choice for me. See, I’m a huge horror movie fan, so anytime I get a chance to add that topic into my posts here, I’ll take it. And hey, I’m preparing for tomorrow’s Day of Pretending to be the Anti-Christ. So my first choice is: The Car. Made famous in a 1977 movie called...wait for it......The Car. A creepy, frightening movie about, you guessed it, a car. This slick, black car - a modified 1971 Lincoln Continental Mark III designed by George Barris of Batmobile fame - would just torment people by following them around and running them down. And, this being some small desert town where evil dwells beneath the surface, like in every horror movie ever made, all the townfolks (that’s what they are called in places like this) are quite sure the car is driven by Satan himself. Yea, that’s right. The overlord of Hell has nothing better to do than to magically appear in some third rate cow town and joyride his way through some bodies. This movie is fucking satanic, kids. Oh, we're not talking Adam Sandler (whatever the hell the name of that movie was) satanic. We're talking the real deal here. Ok, not Exorcist satanic. More like hmm...that one episode of Scooby Doo where they find the gate to hell on Stephen Dorff's lawn. Hey, Anton Fucking LaVey has a credit as a consultant. A consultant, man. The dark lord himself gave the producers of this movie inside info on Satan’s driving skills!

Dude, this car was scary. Ok, so we were, what, 18 years old? I didn’t see this movie in the theater. We watched it a few years later when dad bought a state-of-the-art video recorder/player (and by state-of-the-art I mean it weighed about 200 lbs and took up more space than a small country). Back in the day when you could buy VHS tapes for the bargain price of, oh, $75 a pop. But hey, it was worth it. We chipped in for the movie and a dime bag of some potent stuff and proceeded to get stoned to the point of unforgiving paranoia. The kind of stoned where your tongue goes numb and your brain is on fire and your eyes are sure they see things that couldn’t possibly exist. Yea, get that kind of stoned and then watch a movie in which an evil car with a furious looking bumper preys and stalks and kills like some landshark. All we need is Chief Brody and Richard Dreyfuss and a bigger boat. All I mean is, if you watch this movie today, maybe a souped up Lincoln won’t seem so scary to you. Maybe the movie will seem cheesy and that fog horn will play as hilarious. Because this movie is such horror cheese that this evil being of a car honks its horn every time it kills some one. Hey, at least it didn't play La Cucuracha like my neighbor's car horn does.

But this was circa 1980. And we were paranoid. The car was menacing. Evil. Frightening. The way it shined its lights into the window as the chick was on the phone gave me chills. And then it hit me. Holy shit, my dad has a Lincoln! Yea, ok it was silver, not black and wasn’t all modified and shit and it didn’t roam the streets of Long Island on its own accord, but dude, it's a Lincoln. Just like the movie! Oh my god! Paranoia! My father is Satan!

Yea, calm down, dude. Have some Funyons and a beer. Watch the fucking movie and shut up about your father. His car is pussy compared to this thing.

Well, we never really get why this car was murdering random people in this town. Maybe it just doesn’t like the desert? Maybe it was offended at the way the Indian dude was portrayed? Maybe it hated band geeks or James Brolin's facial hair? Who knows. We got evil, suspense, an explosion, some cool mow-downs, and enough false scares to make some paranoid stoners nearly wet their pants. Hey, I said nearly. All that was missing was Yeardley Smith yelling out We made you!

How legend is this car? It made an appearance on an episode of Futurama.

So thinking about this film all these years later, I’m wondering what it would be like if all the evil cars in movies got together for one big showcase showdown. Christine. The Camaro from The Wraith. The black ‘Cuda in Phantasm III. The Charger from Wheels of Terror. Put them in an open field and let them go at it. I gotta think that the Lincoln would be the one left standing. Because Satan drives a Continental. - M

The Interceptor. The Road Warrior. Ok. Let's just start this off right. This car meant something more than driving. This car meant way more than anything about traveling. This was a car that got through the end and still managed to pick itself up and walk away. Sure it was beat the fuck up, but it got out. It walked away. You didn't. So this was a god damn car that could take everything you could toss at it and wouldn't stop till it dropped.

That's it. 1973 XB GT Ford Falcon Coupe. Modified with blower and NO2 running thru the system. Back window kicked out to fit in extra gas tanks. Cause you never knew when the gas was gonna run out. Cause if it did, hey dude, you are in Austraila. You stopped being "kinda fucked" and graduated to full on "I'm fucked " right when that damn engine stopped. So you will do what it says. It's not about you anymore. It's about the car.

Don't get this movie wrong. A car wasn't about moving. A car represented life. Something that meant everything. A symbol that if this thing couldn't keep running, your life couldn't keep running. If this thing keeps running, I can breathe another day. I can live as long as the interceptor started. That was the Interceptor

Yeah, I get deep sometimes. Don't ask me about Twinkies or I'll tell you the meaning of life.

But this car was fully loaded. Faster than anyone one else. Don't stick a god damn arrow in this motherfucker and expect it to go down. Fuck. It's been through a fucking war. Your "woo woo" sticks just piss it off. Just like a mosquito bite.

"You are annyoing."

"Please stop shooting at me."

"I'm getting kinda pissed here."

That was the Interceptor.

Slicker than anyone. Dirty as fuck. You have a feeling that car has had to pick itself up off a bar room floor many times before and it would have to do it again. But it had to keep moving. The gas ain't gonna find its god damn self and if it just layed down, it would die.That car was the Interceptor. Black as night, tough as shit and loaded with dynamite and gasoline and NO2 and a sawed of shotgun and a knife under the tailpipe and a cool doggy seat for his doggy!

This car was coolness in the prime. Uncut coolness. If this car was cocaine you would be on the ground not being able to breathe while your friends sat around, watching you choke on the dope you just did and thinking "COOL!" Then running to do their lines. Cause that was a cool car.

"Hey dude, it must be good. It almost killed the turtle. Bust out a line a for me."

Pure cool that defined cool. Fuck the General Lee. Fuck Bullit. This was a car with a god damn shotgun holster and nitrogen oxicide running thru it.

What the fuck else could you want from a car?

Plus it had a doggy seat!

And that's fucking cool. -T

Misfits - Horror Business
Angry Samoans - Hot Cars

| Permalink | Del.icio.us It | Fark It | Digg It| Stumble It!