Two Guys Rally

Observations from a Larger, Better Planet. [ November 24th, 2008 ] By:Charles Smith

Greetings, Earthlings! My name is Fzzlkby, and I am a professional motorsports God on my home planet. During a national championship, I drove way too fast and consequently tore the very fabric of our universe, hurtling through a wormhole at an impressive rate of speed and ended up crashing my monstrously powerful car into one of your “Wal-Marts.” After plowing through hordes of very ugly old people and through the rear wall of this center of commerce, I found myself in the middle of what appeared to be a graveyard for your primitive vehicles, although they still appeared to be in use. I continued to drive through these shameful mechanical carapaces before my erections subsided and decided I should probably use my heretofore untouched brakes.

Now, having spent some time on this quaint little planet, I feel as though I must inform you of what you lot have and mostly do not have with regards to this fascination you possess with “cars.” First, I pity you all, for your underpowered engines and heavy curb weights. To convert the power generated by my almost mythologically charged engine in your meek “horsepower,” I would have to append the prefix Giga to it. Oh, you say, awed but misunderstanding the fantastic power of my machine, how can you get all that to the ground? “To the ground?” I respond, chortling. “To the ground?” No, my throbbing, humming automotive marvel literally rips THROUGH the ground, destroying both track and competitors in the process of rocketing forward to victory and the adulation of the entire citizenry of my much larger, better planet.

Now, one thing you have going for you is this method of racing called “rally racing.” I see the redneck gleam of unrecognition in your eye, and I know that this is probably a good thing because you would sully the automotive racing spirit with your drunken antics. No, citizens of this infant civilization, rally racing brings to my multitudinal eyes the recognition of the true sportsman’s spirit that I, in my status as racing Godhead, long since ceased to feel. Yes, for little renown and much danger to themselves, your human racers push forward focusing on skill as much as speed and the excitement of doing something just so in that reach for the quintessence of the race. And, while yes, while my titanic skill dwarfs those of your petty heroes, I feel a kinship towards those that fight the racing fight.

So, you, who read this on your machines that laughably are not implanted into your heads at birth, go forth and proselytize for this sport! And revel and enjoy this sport as seems so necessary, for until your primitive racing gets closer to that of my home planet, this is the best you will do. And beware, humans who live between Chicago and San Francisco: Please get out of the way, because I need to get my machine up to speed in order to get back home to my larger, better planet.

About the Author: Dan Summers is a Mechanical Engineering student at RIT. He doesn’t take any drugs…as far as I know. He has guest posted here before with the Layman’s Guide to Rally Racing and he will probably continue with the guest posts in the future.

The Layman’s Guide to Rally Racing: A Guest Post [ April 16th, 2008 ] By:Charles Smith and Mark Ozimek

My knowledge of the rally world is limited. Limited to Xbox games and Youtube videos of deer slamming into the hood of an oncoming car and then flying several directions at once. Hell, I can barely pull out of my driveway without rolling my car, much less speed along skinny, muddy, bumpy deer butchering facilities. Maybe that’s what makes the sport so amazing to me: the drivers’mastery of adverse conditions. Whereas other automotive enthusiasts make excuses like, “the track was wet,” or “the sun was especially bright today,” or, in NASCAR’s case, “I got a cramp from turning left again,” rally drivers boast technical difficulties like “I landed on some spectators. On my roof,” or “I had to drive six miles with my hood obscuring my view and ended up losing a couple seconds.” Positively manly.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that, where other sports involving the internal combustion engine showcase things like technology (F1), ingenuity (American National Unimotorcyclists Society) or hickitude (dirt track racing), WRX displays what can only described as stupi-err, grit and determination and skill. When you drive one of these things, you get more shit flying at your grill than the star of a niche porn video. Plus, just when you get attached to your car, BAM! You take a bump too fast and your wheels now look like the Delorean in Back to the Future II.

Don’t get me wrong, this article isn’t all adulation. What kind of lazy bastard needs someone to tell them how to turn? Or even go straight? The co-drivers in these things are so fucking mouthy, it’s like being married. “Left three, right three, you’re lost, aren’t you? Why don’t you stop and ask for directions? Oh, the Pastranas invited us over for brunch after this stage.” Were I the driver, I’d be looking for the nearest cliff to drive off of. Instant TV ratings! I wouldn’t be able to watch it, though, since I’d be paralyzed from the skull down. That, and the only way it would show up on TV is in some SpikeTV clip show where the announcer sounds like an edgy nineties surfer guy, duuuuude.

But, to the point of this article: How to pretend to know what you’re talking about when discussing this sport with a friend. I’ll let you in on the magic words: Colin McRae. Casually drop this name (“Hey, that cloud looks like Colin McRae!” or “I’m sorry to hear about your Mother’s cancer Colin McRae,” work wonders) and wait for your buddy to expound on either how great McRae is or how overrated he is. Either way, you’re off the hook. Oh, and don’t mention helicopters. Other polarizing topics of discussion: Mitsubishi vs. Subaru, snow vs. dirt, special stage vs. superspecial stage (not made up), Paris vs. Dakar, Ali vs. Foreman, paper vs. plastic, hell, disagree with them about the weather. It’s easy to work these people into a lather, because, well, they’re crazy. Should they chase you, scream “Left two!” and then go right. They’ll never see it coming.

Other things to look out for: Finns. Finnish people seem to be good at driving cars, and, because their country is a wasteland so awful that not even Russia wanted it, they’re all excellent at driving in the most shit of conditions. In Finnish high schools they have two career paths: driver or black metal band. Your choice pretty much hinges on how much makeup you like to wear. For extra points, try not laughing at names like Tapio Rainio and Hannu Mikkola. I think one’s named after a pudding and the other’s named after a cell phone.

“Rallies.” Sure, I mean, a rally’s a rally, but if it’s not World Rally Championship, it ain’t shit. Unless it is shit. Like, actual poop. Things like Gumball 3000 have cars killing people, but it’s not the same if it’s a bunch of rich guys driving around and getting drunk and then driving some more. We’re lookin’ for a different kind of irresponsibility here. If watching rich people drive cars that your eyes are too poor to even look at is your idea of a good time, go for it, but don’t forget that you can watch regular people drive regular cars down at your local highway. Please go sit in the middle of that thing.

Non rally drivers. Sure, that guy’s got a great looking Evo VIII but rest assured that he wouldn’t even consider getting that thing dirty. Because he is a huge pussy with too much money and not enough derring-do. Why, why buy all that engineering and then do nothing but drive to the club with it? To pick up chicks. Wait, ignore everything I just wrote, this guy knows what he’s doing.

False prophets. These are guys who’ll tell you all about how to enjoy rally racing and what to look out for, even when they don’t know shit. They’ll probably start off by talking about Colin McRae and then hope you take it from there while they nod in agreement. They have a little trick where they try and make YOU screw up in a conversation, because if you both know nothing, whoever calls the other one out first wins. They may also weasel into other topics, like the political climate of central African nations and the effects of American foreign pol-Colin McRae.

Look, there’re plenty of resources out there to find out all sorts of great stuff about this, like wikipedia, video games, and the SPEED channel at 3am on a Tuesday, if you’re lucky. I don’t really have time to hold your hand through all this, I’ve gotta roll my car back over. It’s stuck in my driveway.

About the Author: Dan Summers is a RIT Mechanical Engineering student due to graduate in 2009. Unfortunately for you, he does not consistently blog and I have no where to send you for more of his witty writings.