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Blame the minivans, crossovers and SUVs. Blame the economy. Blame legislation. Do anything but admit that the death of the true sports car was a inevitable. Now, on the brink of extinction, every excuse spoken is in vain.

The sports car has served as the lifeblood of the imagination for decades. It has pulled both the heartstrings and wallets of countless admirers across modern time and culture. It promises a life of glamour while prancing on the razor-thin line between reckless abandon and sensibility. Yet, it's been inexplicably spited with vitriol and "common sense" practicalities foreign to its DNA. Relentlessly, it's been stifled and suffocated by numbers, logic and the hopeless effigy of maturity. Society has banished the spirit of the sports car to a limbo more barren than Mars and drier than Death Valley. The ideals of the true sports car have been stricken from memory without mercy while it cries a song that eventually no one will hear.



Mass delusion is the reason for the sports car's untimely demise. Far too busy to breathe and too frantic to admire...the public blurs their human existence in exchange for crystalline, pixelated fantasy. Apps and digital demigods reign almighty in today's pop culture. The descent from tangible terra firma to the unreal underworld has been swift and stealth. For many this has resulted in vicarious living in virtual reality...chained to lustful synapses. The hunger of this alternate universe is triggered by the slightest, needy impulse for stimulation. The sights, sounds and feelings of the world are now chosen by the user. There's no need to travel to be entertained or intrigued. A route is always calculated and the destination is always preordained. Circumstance and the whim of nature has been distilled to a ghost of artificial reverence.

There was a time when human emotions were stirred as easily and impulsively as a gear lever. The experience of golden fields and winding roads rushed through one's sight and mind from the seat of a speeding roadster. Life and death tangoed on a mountain road...while fate watched with a reassuring smile. Life wasn't numb...it was real. It had everything good and everything bad. It was clumsy, nuanced and even occasionally politically incorrect. Yet, it was always in unison with the harmonized orchestra of humanity's past, present and future.

While a handful of automakers carry the torch of the true sports car; others have already paid their solemn respects to the end of an era. It's with a heavy heart that they concede to the drowning waves of a society impossibly bent on conformity. The sports car is nearly extinct because this is simply not the environment where it can survive.

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