Ladies and gentlemen, if it pleases this eminent council, I’d like to present you now with a less-than-comprehensive, but no-less compelling argument regarding the sheer lack of quality one might find throughout the rancid, mechanical carcass of the 2021 Chevy Trax. I do not wish to waste the time of this hallowed institution, nor that of the notable and honored members of it. Therefore, I shall endeavor to keep my remarks as brief as possible, though intended, as much as it pains me, to at least partially illustrate the poorness of this vehicle. To call the 2021 Chevy Trax a model worth purchase is to denigrate the value of the word “purchase,” and in fact, the value of all currency everywhere in such a way as to make it nearly meaningless. As you all know, I’m not a man to mince words, nor to trifle with lengthy and flowery manners of speech when clear language presents a more comprehensive and qualitative case. Be that as it may, I worry that simplistic arguments and base language shall fail me in my quest to most fully illustrate my point and illuminate your honored selves in this, my most humble endeavor. As such, I shall speak as needs be for this arduous task.
Vulgar, Witless Design
It occurs to me that just as the form and structure of a poem might take any of a thousand
possible shapes, so too can the shape and design of an automotive vehicle. Just as with the
poem, however, the final shape must have meaning – it should support and elevate the ideas and concepts that it is meant to most truly represent. The shape of a thing must be true to its essence and its purpose for both poetic and mechanical artistry.
In this, the 2021 Chevy Trax fails in the utmost, with a seeming disregard for all glorious
aesthetic values and desires. If one held a moldering, wet lump of hateful clay and dropped it from a great height, allowing it to splatter violently upon the ground, the resulting shape in its remarkable ugliness would be more beautiful than the Trax. This is a vehicle clearly designed by either the finest lunatic ever to grace the moonlit halls of our nation’s most prestigious madhouse or else a man so bereft of an eye for beauty that he considers a sunset no finer a sight than a loaded diaper.
One might add, in fact, that the aforementioned loaded diaper would make for a finer, more beautiful shape than the amorphous heap of offal ignominiously named “Trax.”
An Engine Forged by a Buffoon
As brevity is the soul of wit, the engine is the soul of a vehicle. At its core, no matter how fine or proud the design of any car or handsome SUV, if the engine is lacking, then so too is its very spirit. I would daresay that the engine is more than its soul – it is the soul and heart in one, the very quintessence of vehicular matter. With nothing else but a single, platonic ideal of an engine, even the most base and crude of frames might be held up for scrutiny and found worthy of the highest of praise.
And so once more, we come to look upon the filthy materials loaded into this wretched
automotive disaster. The engine within the 2021 Chevy Trax is an embarrassment of design, an abomination that should never have been conceived, let alone birthed into our world. I have no doubt, no doubt whatsoever, that all the ills and horrors that afflict the human species, if not our planet in its entirety, are at their root directly the result of this abhorred engine.
It’s a 1.4L turbocharged, TURBOCHARGED, mire of feculence that should have been flushed
the moment it was designed. Why anyone would turbocharge such a weak and inept piece of machinery is beyond my capacity for understanding. One might only imagine it was a sick joke, thought of and delivered while in the bonds of drunken lunacy, which should have been erased when stained by the light of day – but survived all such attempts and has now been inflicted upon us as punishment for the sins of our miserable species.
Safer than a Loaded Gun, But Only Barely
Oh, that I had a mind that might conceive words to fit my loathing, or lips that could speak with sufficient eloquence to convey such disgust without turning upon myself in dismay. If some benighted muse might look kindly upon me, for a short span of minutes, I might find a manner to construct such thoughts in solid form and shape that express best my intention. That I might find language sculpted at great cost from the raw matter of my mind, that truly captures the impossibly dolorous intention that deigns to call the 2021 Chevy Trax “safe.”
Let me present to you now such evidence as shall, no doubt, send shivers throughout every
aching bone of your bodies and leave you in perpetual unquiet until at last cold Charon guide you on your final crossing. Wise ladies, honorable gentlemen: the 2021 Trax has a five-star safety rating from the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration. Five stars.
I can only imagine such stars as have fallen from the heavens, cursed and hurled headlong
flaming from the ethereal sky into ruinous disarray. Such stars as these, wrapped in chains of adamant and cursing their creator, can only be those that might be gifted to such a hideous and terrifying vehicle as the Trax. It is a monstrous automobile that brags of its standard rear vision camera, for all other safety features of worth or merit are locked away behind a package that extorts from their customers a modicum of safety in exchange for additional compensation.
How terrible must the demoniacal mind that designed such a feature be? What bilious spawn of Mammon dreamt of squeezing every penny from those that wish to be safe?
The Chevy Trax is Garbage
Now, afford me but a few moments longer, as I should hope to offer a brief summary of my most heartfelt argument. Know you this: the 2021 Chevy Trax is a garbage vehicle, to be driven only by garbage people. I speak not ill of those men and women dedicated to sanitation, those honorable souls that make their vocation of ensuring you and I are not surrounded perpetually by our own filth. I have naught but respect for them.
I speak of men and women whose hearts are nothing more than shriveled lumps of hate,
beating out a shrill sound indistinguishable from the death cries of a child. These wretched
ghouls, their souls rotten and fetid as rank excrement, are the true garbage people. And none other than these malformed miscreants would ever lower themselves to drive such a vehicle such as the Chevy Trax. If you should see one behind the wheel of a Trax, know that you are looking at the most debased wretch in all of creation – and look not overlong into its eyes, lest you feel your own self befouled by its spirit.
Thank you, my honorable audience. Good night.
Editor’s Note: The preceding text is based on the only known existing copy of a speech given by Sir Albrecht Von Gourdboddum, on the evening of 17th July, 1874. At the time, he spoke at his own commitment hearing and was immediately locked away in Bethlem Royal Hospital. This copy was unearthed and transcribed by our own Rutherfjord Von Gourdboddum, a direct descendent of the original speaker. No explanation has been given for its content. Thank you.