Just 'cause it fits in this thread:
From The Sunday Times
February 3, 2008
Jeremy Clarkson's greatest flopsBad cars usually lack one vital ingredient – soul. They’re built by accountants, not a man with a passion.
Jeremy Clarkson
Read reviews of the 25 worst cars Jeremy has driven
The cars you will find on this page do not necessarily cost more than Caribbean islands, they are not unduly thirsty and none has a steering wheel that falls off every day or killer scorpions in the seat fabric.
Some are even quite spacious and practical and mostly they emit very small carbon dioxides. This, of course, makes little difference to the weather but does give you a warm glow of sanctimonious pride at least.
However, I don’t like them and, as often as not, there’s a very good reason for that . . .
It’s not that hard to make a car. You go to a company that makes brakes for the brakes, to a company that makes glass for the windows and to a company that makes seats for the seats. Then you get a subsidy from the Malaysians to clear a bit of jungle, pop up a factory, employ some locals to nail all your pieces together and Bob’s your uncle.
Making a car, then, is like following one of Jamie Oliver’s recipes. You take so many eggs, cook the cress for so long, drizzle so much jus onto the finished product and yum yum, you have a delicious and nutritious dinner for four.
There is, however, a small problem. I have followed many of Jamie’s recipes over the years and I have ended up with something that looks nothing like the incredible creation in the pictures. What’s more, when I serve it to guests, it usually makes them vomit copiously all over the floor.
I’m willing to bet that if Gordon, or Anton, or Marco, or Heston were to follow the same recipe using the same ingredients and the same utensils, the guests would drown in their own dribble long before they’d picked up a knife and fork.
And this is the thing with cars. The new Tata Nano, that 40p commuter runabout launched in India recently, has all the right parts. There are wheels, windscreen wipers, an engine (sort of) and places for people to sit. But do you want one? I don’t. In fact, I’d rather kiss Nicholas Witchell. With tongues.
And it’s not a problem restricted to cheap cars either. Other cars I don’t want include the Mazda2, the Subaru WRX, the BMW 3-series, the Mercedes GL, the Vauxhall Vectra, the Porsche Boxster, anything with a Seat badge, and even the £117,500 Bentley Flying Spur.
The Bentley may tick all the boxes. It may be the fastest four-door saloon car in the world and it may have exquisitely machined heater vent knobs. What’s more, it uses many of the same parts as the Volkswagen Phaeton, a car I like very much indeed. And yet it lacks the vital final ingredient. Call it what you will: flair, élan, passion. It’s not there. It is a car with no soul.
There’s a very good reason for this. Volkswagen made the Continental GT because it wanted to make a good large car. And having done that, at very great expense, the marketing people and the accounts department obviously pointed out that a few more could be sold if a cheaply reengineered saloon version was added to the lineup. The Flying Spur, then, was created not to be brilliant. But as a sop to the economies of scale. It was built to make money. And that never works.
Full story, source: The Times
but as long as it is energy effective.