Godzilla death machines
Munich, home of those sleek BMW cars, turned out to be a good place to watch the film 8-Mile, because one could almost feel the audience wince when first confronted with the beat-up cars Jimmy Smith Jr. (Eminem) and his homies cruise around in. It must be unnerving for people raised with the expectation of driving smooth status statements to endure the sight of the hideous, faulty contraptions that pass for automobiles in the world of the "Rabbit", as Jimmy is called by family and friends.
The only shiny, purring conveyance on view in 8-Mile is the "sport utility vehicle" driven by Rabbit's rappin' enemies. In a critical scene that hinges on sexual jealousy and professional envy, Rabbit is almost beaten to death by a posse that emerges from a forbidding looking behemoth with requisite grill guard and blackout windows. This juxtaposition of machine and man is remarkably eloquent because if Eminem is Detroit's most voluble gift to the world, the SUV is surely its most menacing one.
Lethal, aggressive, unsafe, ugly and environmentally disastrous, SUVs now account for almost half of all new vehicle sales in the US. How could such perversion come to pass? "High and Mighty: SUVs — The World's Most Dangerous Vehicles and How They Got That Way" by Keith Bradsher answers that question, and quite a few more besides. The author is the former Detroit bureau chief of The New York Times and he writes with assurance about the automotive industry and its key players. It's quite possible that his book will impact the Detroit-Washington nexus in much the same way as Ralf Nader's Unsafe at Any Speed did, because Bradsher, like Nader, also documents how regulatory breakdown has been exploited by corporate malefactors to the detriment of the people.
In the New Republic (registration required), Gregg Easterbrook uses Bradsher's book as the launch pad for a brilliant essay-review that excoriates "America's twisted love affair with sociopathic cars". Cleverly titled "Axle of Evil", the piece locates the moment in time when the SUV emerged: an effort by the old American Motors company to blackmail the Nixon administration by claiming that the newly passed Clean Air Act would put its Jeep line out of business. "You can guess what followed," writes Easterbrook. "Other manufacturers demanded free passes for anything even vaguely truckish, including light pickups."
Bradsher's book and Easterbrook's essay come at an interesting time in the history of the SUV because an intense campaign against the vehicles has begun and, despite the ridiculing efforts of Detroit, it's gaining momentum. The move started last year when a Christian group called the Evangelical Environmental Network came out with a TV ad that featured dramatic music and a voice-over noting that "too many of the cars, trucks, and SUVs" that Americans drive pollute the air, and "maybe it's time to ask ourselves ? what would Jesus drive?"
Then, in August, a "pedestrian rights and advocacy group" called Citystreets produced a campaign that included a 30-second ad that asked "Where Do Terrorists Get Their Money?" It interspersed quick-cut scenes of an apparent terrorist operation in progress with titles such as, "Fake I.D.: 1,500 gallons," "Box cutters: 1 gallon," and "Explosives: 600 gallons," before asking, "Where do terrorists get their money?" The question is answered by images of vehicles. "Every time you fill your tank," a title says, as we look at a trunk-load of machine guns, "Some of it might come back to you."
Now comes the Detroit Project, an activist group based around pundit Arianna Huffington. They have created a controversial TV ad that parodies a US government campaign linking drugs and terror. In the spot titled "Talking Heads," SUV owners say things like "I helped hijack an airplane," and "I helped blow up a night club," and "I helped teach kids around the world to hate America," and, "I sent our soldiers off to war." These comments are interspersed with, "It makes me feel safe," "Everybody has one," and, finally, "My life, my SUV." The ad called "George" focuses on a character who buys gas to fill his SUV. A child narrates and gentle music plays as we see a map of the countries (Saudi Arabia, Iraq) where the company that fills George's tank got the oil. "And these are the terrorists," the little girl says, as we watch an image of machine-gun-wielding men in the desert, "who get money from those countries every time George fills up his SUV." Then, the closing title: "Oil money supports some terrible things. What kind of mileage does your SUV get?"
Let's leave the final comment to Easterbrook:
Many SUVs, such as the Durango, have been consciously engineered to look as threatening as possible, with auto companies using focus groups and other techniques documented in High and Mighty to determine which features and styling cues suggest an anti-social message and then zeroing in on them. The styling goal for the oversized Dodge Ram mega-pickup was "a vehicle that would make other motorists want to get out of your way." ?One hostility-intensification feature is the "grill guard" that SUV manufacturers promote. Grill guards, useful mainly for pushing oryx out of the road in Namibia, have no application under normal driving conditions. But they make SUVs look angrier, especially when viewed through a rearview mirror. (The grotesque new General Motors Hummer H2 offers a cage of steel in front of the grill for an additional $525.) Grill guards also increase the chance that an SUV will kill someone in an accident."
Diarist of the day: Tony Benn, 16 January 1979"Today I began a regime which will probably last for twenty-four hours. I jogged in the bedroom for about twenty-five minutes and did some exercises. Resolved not to eat any bread, potatoes or sugar, and to stop smoking. It's terrifying the extent to which one is dependent on drugs. If I tried to give up tea as well, I think I should go mad!
?It's 10.45 pm and I still haven't smoked."
