A bunch of fraternity men in their Mustangs! In the intellectual-hip world of California, there is no more scathing an epithet imaginable. A bunch of fraternity men in their Mustangs. Just savor it. Oh Mario, and Dylan, and Joan Baez, of Free Speech and Anti-Vietnam — who in his right mind would have ever dreamed it could come to this in twelve months — abandoned to the supermarket and the breezeway scions — A bunch of fraternity men in their Mustangs — and it is, unbelievably, all as the provocateur Kesey has prophesied it, droning on his goddamned harmonica and saying Just walk away and say fuck it… – Tom Wolfe The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test

It takes being a pedestrian to remember how often we, as drivers, unjustifiably loathe them. Annoyed stares when crossing the street, having to scamper across intersections to avoid those with no respect for the crosswalk, right-turn-on-red�ers narrowly avoiding decimating your toes. Should the meek actually inherit the earth someday, I feel they will most likely be bi-pedal, instead of Ferrari-ized.

Something I�m thinking about anyway�