Motor1 Just Dropped A Review That’s Basically A 10,000-Word Love Letter To A Car That Costs More Than Your House
So Motor1, the automotive journalism outlet that usually exists to remind you your 2004 Honda Civic is a ticking time bomb, just published a review of the new [Insert Overpriced Luxury SUV Name Here]. And by “review,” I mean they basically wrote a eulogy for the American Dream, complete with a glossy photo gallery of the car parked in front of a coffee shop that charges $8 for a latte. The headline? “The New [Insert Overpriced Luxury SUV Name Here]: A Symphony of Excess.” Oh, cool. A symphony. For people who think “off-roading” means driving over a speed bump in a gated community.
I’m not saying I clicked on it. I’m just saying my mouse had a stroke and accidentally landed on the link while I was trying to look up why my check engine light is having a literal meltdown. The review starts with a breathless description of the car’s “bespoke leather stitching” that apparently took a master craftsman from a small Italian village three days to complete. Three days. For stitching. Meanwhile, I’ve been wearing the same pair of jeans for a week because I’m too lazy to do laundry. The reviewer, let’s call him Chad, then spends two paragraphs waxing poetic about the “haptic feedback” of the steering wheel. Haptic feedback? Sir, that’s a vibration. My 2010 Toyota Camry has haptic feedback when I hit a pothole. It’s called “the suspension is dead.”
But the real kicker? The price tag. This car, which is essentially a lifted minivan that costs more than a starter home in Ohio, starts at $120,000. And I’m not even talking about the loaded version. That’s the base model. The one that doesn’t have heated cupholders. Because apparently, your morning coffee needs to be kept at a precise 140 degrees Fahrenheit, or else you might have a bad day. The horror. Imagine pulling up to a stoplight next to a guy in a 1998 Ford Ranger who hasn’t washed it since the Clinton administration, and you’re sipping your perfectly heated latte while your car’s ambient lighting cycles through 64 shades of “I’m better than you.”
Motor1’s review spends an entire section on the car’s “adaptive air suspension” that can raise the ride height by two inches for “off-road adventures.” Off-road adventures. In a car that costs more than a semester at Harvard. Let me guess: the “off-road adventure” involves driving to a vineyard in Napa Valley and parking on a gravel driveway. Truly, the rugged terrain of a California winery. I’m sure the car’s “terrain management system” has a setting for “I’m slightly annoyed by the gravel.”
And then there’s the audio system. Because of course there’s a section on the audio system. This car has a 22-speaker, 1,500-watt sound system that can play a frequency so low it might actually cause a seismic event. The review describes it as “concert-hall quality.” Cool. So I can blast Taylor Swift at 120 decibels while I’m stuck in traffic on the 405, wondering if my life choices have led me to this exact moment of financial ruin. But hey, at least the bass will rattle my fillings loose.
The real kicker in the comments section? A guy named “PorscheDad2024” arguing that the car’s “investment potential” makes it worth the price. Investment potential. For a car. That depreciates the second you drive it off the lot. I’d love to see his portfolio: 60% bonds, 30% index funds, 10% “I bought a luxury SUV because it has ambient lighting and the salesman told me it would be a collectible.” Sure, buddy. Your 2024 [Insert Overpriced SUV Name] will be a collectible in the same way that a Beanie Baby is a collectible. Technically true, but nobody’s paying off their mortgage with it.
And let’s not forget the obligatory “carbon fiber interior trim” that adds $4,000 to the price. Carbon fiber. In a street-driven SUV. It’s not like you’re going to be hitting a chicane at Monaco. You’re going to be picking up your kids from soccer practice. But sure, let’s add some lightweight material to a 6,000-pound vehicle because it “looks cool.” It’s the automotive equivalent of wearing a racing helmet to the grocery store.
Motor1 ends the review with a glowing recommendation: “If you can afford it, buy it without hesitation.” Translation: “If you make more money in a year than I will in my entire career, go ahead and spend it on a toy that will be worth half as much in five years.” Thanks, Chad. Very helpful. I’ll keep that in mind while I’m saving up for my next oil change.
But here’s the thing: we all know the real sin isn’t the car itself. It’s the fact that Motor1, and every other car site, will keep churning out these breathless reviews of cars that 99% of us will never even sit in. It’s a form of automotive porn for people who can’t afford the real thing. And we eat it up. We click, we scroll, we comment, we envy. We tell ourselves that maybe, just maybe, if we work hard enough, we can one day drive a car that has a massage function for the passenger seat.
Spoiler alert: we won’t. But hey, at least Motor1 got their ad revenue.
Final Thoughts
Having followed the industry for decades, I’ve seen countless vaporware concepts fade into obscurity, but the raw, unapologetic brutality of the latest mid-engine monster profiled by *Motor1* feels like a genuine watershed moment. It’s refreshing to see a manufacturer finally prioritizing visceral, analog driving dynamics over a spec-sheet war, proving that the soul of the sports car isn’t dead—it’s just been waiting for someone to stop chasing horsepower numbers and start perfecting the chassis. Ultimately, this car isn’t just a new model; it’s a defiant, screaming middle finger to the sanitized, electrified future that many have been so eager to embrace.