WIRED, USA: “Here’s why the CIA is actually good.”
WIRED, Japan: “Hey, isn’t it weird that this massive ‘anime’ company is having an ‘awards ceremony’ in the middle of Tokyo despite having no Japanese judges or users and charging Japanese attendees 3x admission?”
Ferrari’s job is to be the enchanting Italian mistress. It is not supposed to be practical, or sensible, or responsible, or efficient- every other major car brand is fighting tooth and nail to be those things.
Ferrari exists to be the dangerous BPD addled smoke show you lust after. That you shirk off the responsibilities of the kind of deeply complex professional life that allows you to afford one, for weekend affairs that rekindle something primal.
It is about making moments that you never forget because they are so magical and improbable.
When I was in my early 20s, a friend of my family needed a ride to Ferrari of Marin to pick up his new 612 and he thought I would be fun to bring along. The dealer had a couple of hours of paperwork waiting on some bank snafu, and he sweet talked them into letting me take an F430 out for a spin, on my own.
I made a b-line for that one way tunnel to the Marin headlands… nobody was around, the light turned green, and I emerged from that tunnel as an entirely different man (with a little hearing damage).
This… thing… this motorcar? Is stirring up such a response because it signals that Ferrari might be dead. That is just another globalist schlock luxury brand making baubles for the wealthy to flex their bank accounts with. No risk. No tradeoff. No danger… just another appliance for getting from A to B while the prancing horse imposes your success on those around you.