emasculation by pollution control

I have been emasculated by the Federal Beast. Specifically, I’ve been emasculated by the Federal Beast’s demands for fuel efficiency.

I did a little research last night on my engine and decided I’d have a poke around. Check the oil, look for leaks, look like I know what I’m doing, typical guy stuff. I opened the hood, looked around and decided that I would figure out how to change my spark plugs.

I found the electronic ignition, three sparks at three weird angles and, ugh, well…

I know there are three other sparks facing the firewall, but actually seeing them is beyond the reach of even the most hardy man. They are hidden behind the alternator, the coolant overflow reservoir, and some other bullshit I’ve never seen before.

What the fuck???

I remember, maybe thirty years ago, standing in the engine bay of a 1969 Nova removing a water pump. No face on the engine, no fucking problem. Now, that’s the way cars should be, free of pollution control, computers, and weird ass sensors.

Computers should be nowhere near cars, except when you bully some Beardo the Weirdo by taking his Mac and running it over with a fatty tire.

Remember when you didn’t need a torque wrench, specialty tools, a computer and a high speed internet connection to change a radiator hose? You certainly didn’t need to remove three fourths of the engine to get to fuel filter. You could change out you’re crappy AM radio without frying the electrical system and you could install fog lights (which look cool though they are totally useless) without setting the car on fire and having the engine computer reboot to 1925.

See, you could take care of your own car, you could make many of your own repairs. You were in spiritual touch with the cowboys of long ago, who could comb and shoe their horse, or change their water pumps on the Chisholm trail.

Looking into the Gordian knot of hoses, wires and tubing, I realized that there was nothing I could do except fill the wiper fluid reserve. Later, I found that my penis had fallen off. I found it on the electric fan shroud. Totally emasculated by modern car technology.

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