Knight Rider is Dead to Me

The pilot of the Knight Rider remake was on TV tonight. I grew up watching that show, and now I may have an aneurysm because of it. I don't hate the new Knight Rider for using a Mustang...well, it doesn't seem right since the original was a Trans Am, but Pontiac has discontinued that car. No, I can overlook the changing of the car from a GM brand of car to a Ford, and I miss that they're not using the same actor to provide the voice of KITT, but the real travesty is these fictional "specs" for the new car that break the laws of physics.

http://www.popularmechanics.com/automotive/new_cars/4237588.html

540 horsepower—that's perfectly reasonable, but to have that translate to a quarter mile of 3.87 seconds is bullshit! Drag cars with street car shells and 1300-1500 hp clear the quarter running something like 6.xx second times.

300-0 mph in 12 feet is even more stupefying. I could run a car into a concrete wall of reasonable thickness and the car would still travel farther than 12 ft. The tires cannot grip pavement anywhere near that effectively, and even if the car is slowed by a 'chute, it would take more distance. Oh, and if that stopping distance WERE possible, the G-forces would certainly kill any passengers in the goddamn car.

And I know exactly how this abomination of an article ended up printing these head-imploding numbers. Some producer/writer/I don’t know who’s responsibility it is- decided they wanted to print some mock specifications of the new Knight Rider car to impress potential viewers. Said individual either perceives the world as some Matrix rip-off where physics mean absolutely as much as Paris Hilton’s skull, or they read random automotive-related phrases, vomited them back up in a different order, then said: “We need a car that will be better than any other car on the planet. What’s a Corvette’s stopping distance? 146 feet? From what, 70 mph? Ha! Make our KITT stop from 300 miles an hour—more is better—in, uh, twelve feet. Next, I’ll make up the quarter-mile time…” I want to personally subject this person to the body-liquefying specs that they propose. If intelligence was a fuel, this guy's tank would be stuck on E—code for "eat shit and die."

And this fucking article is published in Popular Mechanics—shouldn’t the editors and other staff have the two brain cells required to say, ‘This is going to kill my credibility. Satan himself couldn’t print this lie, it’s worse than heresy. I should run my car over the testicles of everyone involved in this hype of a pissing contest, just to make sure they never reproduce.’ But no, I come across this article, my blood pressure then rivals Mt. St. Helens, and I want to start knocking people unconscious. Since I happen to come across this atrocity of human thought, I believe a calmer course of action is that I want to revoke these dumbasses’ car privileges, they obviously do not possess the requisite intelligence to operate anything involving a wheel.

One last thing: what the fuck kind of Knight Rider car needs "24 hour roadside assistance"?? Yeah, Bubba's Towing Company will certainly be able to help you fix that rolling black hole of fictional, reality-warping technology—I say again, BULLSHIT. I would love this:

Hasselhoff replacement douchebag (on his cell phone): Hello, Joe's Towing Company? I locked my keys in my car. Can you help me unlock it?

Towing Company: Sure, I’ll get right out to give you a hand.

[The guy shows up, feeds a slim-jim into the window weather-stripping, and is promptly electrocuted.]

HRD: Motherfucker, he’s dead! Now how am I going to get downtown to screw some whores? KITT, just unlock the door and let me in!

KITT: I’m sorry Dave, I’m afraid I can’t do that. (Yes, credit “2001: A Space Odyssey” for that line)

If you’re going to base a show around a car, hire people who know about cars. Listen to them.