I was hotlapping the ring in my trusty mister, the sound thumping in SRS 3D through my 300 watt kenwood system, one of the techno tracks was playing in the BG, the scream of the racing tranny was cutting through the air, on every corner the subwoofers roared to life as I nipped the strobes, the sound of rushing air, the severely pissed off and raspy sound of a mildly tuned 4AGZE resounding through the walls, the little red LED in the tach going crazy, the flashing gear change indicator telling me I'm going way too goddamn fast for the upcoming corner and my subsequent ignoring of it's wise indications.
I cannot remember, ever, such an intoxicating feeling. So special it is that for the first time, the clock is not the one that pushes my quest for speed, but simply the raw need for speed. Braking comes later to feel "it" longer, acceleration comes sooner to feel "it" sooner, strobes are jumped and grass is painted in rubber to feel "it" better, not even in PGR wich I previousely help on such a high pedestal, not in Sega Rally Championship wich previousely held that special honor made "it" so vivid
It's never felt so utterly and completely "right".
Now if you'll excuse this excess of gushing praise, I need to rotate the volume knob a wee bit clockwise and get back to "it"
I cannot remember, ever, such an intoxicating feeling. So special it is that for the first time, the clock is not the one that pushes my quest for speed, but simply the raw need for speed. Braking comes later to feel "it" longer, acceleration comes sooner to feel "it" sooner, strobes are jumped and grass is painted in rubber to feel "it" better, not even in PGR wich I previousely help on such a high pedestal, not in Sega Rally Championship wich previousely held that special honor made "it" so vivid
It's never felt so utterly and completely "right".
Now if you'll excuse this excess of gushing praise, I need to rotate the volume knob a wee bit clockwise and get back to "it"
