Throughout Honk’s history, we’ve spent a great while on the why. This truth has become more and more evident as I’ve sifted through our endless unfinished project files in my weary, somber daze.
Consciously or not, I think we’ve always known that our best hope for unique insight as car writers lay within the terrible neighborhood of cultural and psychosocial analysis — partially because we’re not getting paid, and it’s a lot of fun — but there’s another factor, too.
Each time I sit in an unfamiliar car and blab for 12+ straight hours as we dilly dather about abandoned Missouri mornings, I leave feeling as if I’ve spent the time meditating. I am now certain that I really do gain more than just entertainment and some achingly-titanic raw video files.
In the chambers of exclusively-automotive positing we construct, I have arrived upon many a precious proverb and — truthfully — why else am I alive?
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