Have You Heard

The personal site of Jack Baruth

I’m Sure You’ll Be Surprised When I Tell You How Fast The New M3 Is


The new M3 runs elevens out of the box and offers more torque at 2000rpm than the C6 Corvette Z51 did at peak. It’s fast and light (relatively speaking) and somewhat distant to operate. But if you want more details than that…


Weekend Update: Running Out Of Luck


Well, that was an interesting weekend.


Brothers Gonna Work It Out


It’s been a long day, but it looks like Bark M. and I have qualified somewhere between third and fifth (of 31) for AER’s Saturday race at Watkins Glen.


Making Friends With America’s “Knights Of The Road”


Well, that escalated quickly.


What Was I Just Saying About Suppressing The Discussion?


Two days ago I had the nerve, the nerve I tell you, to inform the readers of Road&Track that such a thing as darksiding exists.

This morning I woke up and my Facebook account had disappeared.


My Self-Esteem Depends On Your Tire Choice


Something strange is happening to the way we view public discourse in America. We were once a country of fierce and passionate argument on nearly every topic ranging from King George and his repressive taxation to the war in Vietnam. This was once a place where both sides presented their arguments and fought it out with the bulletin, the ballot box, or the bullet.

No longer. Today, the most common cry regarding any particular topic of controversy is that it be suppressed. We don’t need to talk about abortion — that’s settled. We don’t need to talk about a Basic Income grant — that’s ridiculous. We don’t need to talk about income inequality or bakers being forced to make cakes for causes they find repugnant or military adventurism or the idea that humans of different “races” or “genders” might actually be different from the neck up as well as the neck down. Bring up any hot-button topic in this country and your opponents won’t be trying to disprove your assertions; they’ll be demanding that you be shut up.

This attitude isn’t limited to the pundits or the professional politicians. It’s spread like Ebola (oh yeah — we aren’t supposed to discuss why Ebola patients are being flown to geographically diverse locations for no apparent reason — that’s “ignorant”) to even the nicest regular people out there. And so we find the exceptionally meek and gentle Wes Siler, my occasional colleague and fellow CTS-V Challenge competitor, taking time away from his hipster-guide-to-emulating-the-activities-of-real-men-using-as-many-Urban-Outfitters-items-as-possible “Indefinitely Wild” blog so he can call for the suppression of a debate.


TLX On Track!


Everybody (who cares to know (which is about no one (with the possible exception of a few Honda-owning friends))) knows that I love my Accord. It’s rapid and economical and comfy and easy to use. It’s far, far better than the previous-generation car and it has many more useful goodies than the Accord before that one.

So when I took delivery of a loaded Acura TLX SH-AWD, I was prepared to love it, too.


I Finally Got A Top Of Something Quote… Kinda


I’ve long believed that working in the autojourno biz is much like growing up as one of many children in the house of extremely wealthy but often absent parents. We (really meaning they, I’ve done two press trips in all of 2014) are spoiled with first-rate accommodations and meals and travel and gifts all the time, but what we really want is approval from the manufacturers. We compete tooth-and-nail to obtain the approval of those parents for two reasons. The first is that the real perks, the Jonny-Lieberman-indoor-Dubai-ski-trip stuff, is reserved for the people who shamelessly service the manufacturers like Elizabeth Shue at the beginning of Leaving Las Vegas.

The second and possibly more important reason is that everybody hates their readers and loves their friends in PR. It’s not worth getting the approval of the readers because you (meaning they again, I meet dozens of readers a year) never meet them in person. Better by far to get that pat on the back or the friendzone hug from that gorgeous PR girl.


Captiva Maximus

What we do in life echoes in eternity!


All The Old Dudes


It’s the stuff of manosphere fantasy: thirty-year-old fashion model (shown above) gets side-bitched by thirty-eight-year-old Manhattan architect because said architect is busy dating a hotter twenty-three-year-old named Anouk. Model then achieves satori and comes to understand that she has become worthless because of her age. “My career successes, my triumphs as a human being, are trumped by the fact my looks—and my ovaries—have a shelf life,” she moans, and a million neckbearded forever-alones tip their fedoras at once in triumph at her degradation.

I’m not convinced.


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