Men and women want to possess the products of Western systems of ordering and progress without wishing to participate in their secret values. Without being convinced, for instance, of the medical value of work as a hedonistic medium to pleasure, without knowing what delight it is to swim in anonymity, and without the ability to see the car as measure of (social) effort. Here cars are evidence of the miraculous. Not the product of effort, nor the reward of effort. They are the juggernauts of modernity, hierophanies of the effortless. There are cars here which are completely covered in gold and an oil –like substance that reflects psychedelic colours. Underneath the cars there are green disco lights that make the car appear to be floating. I want a car like that. The Mercedes Benz is a liturgical instrument, a mobile altar with imaginary wings. Inside real men, drive like angels.