My disdain for over large vehicles and my firm belief in their owner’s lack of mental capacity isn’t a secret. There are some people who could generally profit from owning an SUV. Most owners, on the other hand, want large, flashy billboards that cry out “Look at me! I am important and wealthy and have a large penis!” even if they are women, which scares me.
If you have an eight child family and an hour commute, you might need an SUV.
If your job requires you to tote three hundred-odd pounds of scientific testing apparatus into the swampy heart of a peat bog to study the intricate mating rituals of the Great Crested Newt, you might need an SUV.
If you are a balding, middle aged ass-bag who’s toting nothing but a set of golf clubs, a laptop stolen from your last job and your wedding ring (in a cup holder next to some Binaca and a condom) to the local coffee shop to pretend you’re day-trade while sipping your whipped-creamy mocha and casually stalking the hot, pink haired barista with the tongue ring who’s two decades younger than you, you most definitely do not need an SUV.
If you are twenty-something and wearing an overpriced, baggy jersey, some overpriced baggy jeans (pulled down so that the crotch is below your knees like a parasail) and an overpriced baggy ball cap and toting nothing more than two unemployed friends and a nickel bag of skunk weed on your way to drive around for hours, looking for busy people to grimace and glare at angrily after you cut them off in traffic, you most definitely do not need an SUV.
As a matter of fact, most people don’t need an SUV. These gas guzzlers are exacerbating global warming, which is bad for everyone, but this is true to a lesser extent for every vehicle on the road, so we’ll concede this one until I can afford a non-shitty car that runs on dreams and exhausts nothing but Skittles and rabbit farts.
Unlike passenger vehicles, they are higher up which makes pedestrian visibility an issue, but it also means their bumpers are at a neck-destroying and head-imploding height to other motorists. Drivers also think that their SUVs are safer. They think they are so much safer than a regular coupe or sedan (exponential to the size and cost of the SUV) that they forget that if you drive like an asshole, no SUV in the world will compensate: there is no Jesus SUV that can drive on water or instantly gain traction on black ice, and if you drive 90mph on an iced-over highway while cutting lanes, you are probably going to need to drop your cell phone and half eaten cheese danish and start trying to remember how to get out of a spin. This winter, on the worst and most icy days, I saw a lot of SUVs spun out on the side of the highway yet very few cars, owning, I assume, to the fact that people with 4×4 assume they are safer and are therefore drive much more carelessly.
So, between the size, visibility, false sense of security and bumper height, they are bad for other drivers.
Their excuse has been, after the previous facts were made clear, that they were ‘driving an SUV to keep their family safe’. Pointing out to an SUV driver that “You just severed the heads of the entire family in that Geo you just ran down” could be countered with the excuse that they were just being a good parent and providing their children a small, armored tank, (which was necessary only because of the other idiots driving around in small, armored tanks.) This excuse worked mainly because you couldn’t really fault a person for ignoring all logic and science in an attempt to passionately protect their family, at least not without being labeled an amoral atheist democrat bastard.
Oh, but times have changed.
A safety test has just confirmed my own belief that SUVs are now nearly totally without worth to most of the people that own them. These tests have shown that SUVs are less safe in impacts than passenger cars. The H3, the freaking mother of uselessly large, overpriced vehicles didn’t even get a top rating in frontal crashes! The big excuse for getting an SUV, the great blanket ruse that covered all of the small penises, the emasculated and deflated egos, the shame, the inadequacy and the sheepish affectation of shoddy and invented MTV culture (not to mention that fucking Mary Kay monstrosity) has finally been pulled back like the curtain under the Wizard, exposing these owners for what they are: a bunch of people who want to sit up so high that they have to crane their necks to look down at you – and that goes for off the road, too.