As you may have noticed, Editor-In-Chief Suzanne Denbow is away today, schlepping it up at the New York Auto Show. We’d be jealous, but she had to shell out her own cash to travel to New York and go to the show, and we’re far too cheap to bother doing something like that. As the saying goes, however, when the cat’s away, the mice will play. Since she isn’t around to stop us from writing things she might not agree with, we’re going to run amuck, and worry about getting fired after she gets back. After all, it’s always easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.
As such, we present an article that’s sure to frost her cookies when she sees it: the top five reasons Volvos suck:
Seriously, they look like they were designed with an Etch-a-Sketch. Who thought this was a good idea? Volvos weren’t so much designed as they were carved from a block of wood. They seem to take the approach that the concept of aerodynamics are beneath them. Defying convention, they are apparently daring the wind itself to be so bold as to try and resist them. And it does. A lot. But that would be fine if they were somehow striking or beautiful; but let’s face it, they’re not.
We’ve heard rumours that they’ve updated their designs a bit in the past decade or two so they’re not as boxy anymore, but we honestly can’t bring ourselves to care enough to look into it.
Who wants something that’s safe? Safety is the reason that cars have bloated so much in the last twenty-five years. We insist on more airbags, more collision-protecting zones, more things that crumple, inflate, collapse or explode in an effort to keep us safe. Sure, we’ve got better odds of surviving an impact in today’s cars, but where’s the fun in that? Car enthusiasts aren’t rushing to add more air-bags to their project cars. They’re not finding creative ways to retrofit side curtain bags, or engineer crumple zones into their ’32 Highboy. No, they weld in a roll-cage, and even then, only if they absolutely have to because they won’t be allowed on a track without one. They add chassis reinforcement to increase rigidity so it will corner better, and so the frame won’t twist when they crank the engine all the way up to eleven.
Does Volvo play along with this? No. They make cars safer. They develop new technologies to ensure that the people inside the car will walk away from an accident more often. So where’s the fun in that? We’ve always planned on sliding through the Pearly Gates on the car’s roof, backwards and on fire. A Volvo’s not going to help with that.
Aside from the Swedish Chef, has anything good ever come out of Sweden? No. You’ve all been to Ikea. That place is evil. By extension, then, the whole country must be evil, and therefore Volvos are evil as well.
2.They put the ignition switch in the bottom of the center console.
No… wait, that’s Saab. Well, same difference, honestly, can anyone tell them apart anyhow? Strange, quirky, Swedish things with faces only a mother (or car blog Editor-In-Chief) could love.
1.Suzanne loves them.
If that’s not reason enough to think they’re rubbish, I don’t know what is. The problem, of course, is that it’s so hard to tell whether that’s more of an indication of Suzanne’s tastes or of Volvo’s terrible cars. Dustin and I have discussed this, however, and we personally suspect that it’s because Volvos are invariably driven by those quirky, distracted, disheveled types of guys with corduroy pants, a tweed sportcoat with patches on the elbows and a few weeks growth of beard – not because he considers it a fashion statement, but because he’s forgotten to shave for that long. The type of guy who would awkwardly be sitting in a bar sipping a daiquiri, and would run away the moment a girl tried to talk to him. The kind of guy who would likely teach poetry classes at a community college. We suspect this is the real reason Suzanne has such an affection for these cars.
So there we have it, five incontrovertible reasons why Volvos suck. And while you are certainly racking your brains trying to come up with contrary arguments, you really needn’t waste the energy. In fact, if you are insisting on arguing with us, the odds are good you are doing so while you should be marking term papers for your first-year Contemporary Literature class, and you should probably get back to work.
But not before leaving a comment below, because Suzanne will probably want to read it. Have we mentioned she’s single?