Anthropomorphic

Anthropomorphic

Anthropomorphic – machine with soul.

We’ve all had them, one or more times, a machine with soul. I still bear scares from one such Italian beasty, a two-wheeled monster. In retrospect? I should’ve named it “Mercutio,” for Hamlet’s buddy.

Curious when this F-Type Jaguar popped up in a feed.

I’d just seen my first new F-type on the street. Bright red. Although I’m no longer any kind of car-guy, I was curious and the distinctive shape? I knew it was old-school British iron – with a new skin.

What warmed me about that review was the way the reviewer fell in love – with a machine. A mechanical beastie that had some semblance of a soul. Or so it would appear.

Reminded me of the ultimate hack, back in the day, drop a Ford 350 Eight (cylinder) into a Jaguar body. Beautiful English coach works and American automotive muscle – best of both worlds.

I tend towards high-mileage hybrid sedans these days. Economical and more green in appearance. It’s a hippie-chick, Austin thing.

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