“Life imitates art more than art imitates life” is a quote from Oscar Wilde.
In the studio at Jasonia Automobile Works, designers stood around a table with the most depressed looks on their faces. It was as if they’d gotten drunk the night before and just realized that in their stupor they’d done a terrible thing like buy a sensible five-year-old Camry online or some equally unspeakable act. The real cause of their foul moods was something entirely different.
In minutes, Dear Leader Jason Torchinsky would walk into the room to talk about a new project. Jasonia Automobile Works (or JAM) is heavily, heavily subsidized by the government, so the ruler of this nation feels that he has the right to dictate the design of any new vehicle the company builds.
The vehicle in question was something that JAM thought would be the key to success overseas: a pickup truck, and Jason had opinions. Dear Leader pulled up in his clanking eight-generation Ford F-150, parking it on a downhill slope in case the missing teeth on the flywheel take up residence near the starter. He emerges from a cloud of smoke and walks in to sit at the head of the studio table. This was bound to be a nightmare.
The Truckiest Truck
As always, the sun was shining on this emerging nation; the lovely island breeze was blowing in through the windows of the studio space above the factory currently building the infamous JAM 808 Rotary:
Despite the gorgeous day, things were about to get real. Torch didn’t even need to open his mouth to express his desires for the JAM truck design; his tomato-soup-red choice of transportation parked outside that day showed his cards. Regardless, Jason started to talk about “pure trucks” and “solid functionality” — something he feels is missing in pickups today.
Dear Leader Torch continued his diatribe on modern trucks; “if people from forty years ago saw one of these things they’d laugh.” Jason demonstrated by putting some images of late model pickups on the big wall-mounted screen. “Look at those grilles; they’re absurd”. He wasn’t wrong:
As a comparison, Jason cast some examples of what he called “pure trucks” onto the video screen. The images were of alarming things like these Desoto and Fargo trucks from Turkey:
This division of Chrysler corporation used these old brand names in Turkey long after American Mopar had discontinued them, and it’s hard to believe the brochure above is for a brand new 1975 vehicle. Sold in this form until the late seventies, the products could almost be described as having no styling at all, if that’s even possible. The only round items are the wheels and the headlights, and some models later models after Chrysler sold their interests don’t even have that (square headlights — not wheels, that is).
One designer mentioned that the wheel arches of the Turkish products look like the Cybertruck, hoping that the association would turn off Torch. Nobody needed to beat the dead horse of what’s wrong with the Tesla pickup; it would be preaching to the choir in this room, and those that actually like the design won’t be swayed by any arguments.
In fact, Jason was seemingly open to such low-polygon designs; he’d been intrigued by the infamous “low polygon” one-off car that’s popped up on the scene in recent years.
Another thing that bothers art history graduate Jason to no end is calling the aesthetics of the Cybertruck “brutalist” because of the exposed steel exoskeleton, like the brutalist buildings of the fifties and sixties.
Jason quotes Boston-based architect and professor Mark Pasnik:
“The intentions and ideas behind the (Cyber)truck and those behind brutalism could not be more divergent,” he says. “The truck is consumerist, whereas brutalism’s monumentality is civic. The truck’s boldness serves the bravado of an individual, whereas brutalism’s visual power was meant to project the shared dignity of the public realm.”
Based on that, Torch argues that his tomato-soup-colored F-series is more of a brutalist design than Tesla’s; a Truck For The People. Still, the issues with the Cybertruck (and, to many degrees, Brutalist architecture) go well beyond aesthetics; it’s the lack of usefulness. The shape of the Cybertruck severely limits access to the pickup bed, it’s unnecessarily tall in the center and frunk space is compromised by the shape of the nose. It has a functional look without actual functionality.
Many SketchMonkey-level scribblers have done rather amateurish, simplistic so-called “let’s fix Cybertruck” attempts where they make the thing look more like a “normal” pickup by chopping bed sides and angling the hood down like you see below:
Jason, oddly enough, seems to like where this approach is going; another designer tries to dampen his enthusiasm by saying that it “changes it from a Cybertruck to a Candylab toy.” This was supposed to be a criticism, but the guy didn’t realize that he’s just stepped into the deep end.
Don’t Toy With Us, Jason
Jason wasn’t just familiar with the Candylab brand of toys; he’d actually done some work with them. These delightful wood playthings are abstract interpretations of cars from years gone by; their modular Volkswagen Beach Bus was developed in part by Torch himself (no, this part of the story is not made up) and can change from a bus to a pickup, and it can even add a Westfalia-type camper top.
What Dear Leader Torch is most chuffed about is that the new ID Buzz looks a lot like his Candylab VW Bus, a toy which was an abstraction of the real first VW Bus. If this were the case (it’s likely not, but nobody is telling Jason this), the ID Buzz is almost like life imitating art (well, an artful toy) that was originally imitating life.
While the Candylab site was still on the screen in the studio, the team started scrolling though the other available toys and landed on the one called Longhorn, which appeared to be the ultra-angular, flat-planed Candylab product that the one designer thought the modified Cybertruck sort of resembled.
“That’s it!” screamed Jason, “That’s our truck. You’re looking at the JAM pickup.” Did he mean that the Longhorn would be the distant inspiration for this new truck?
“No, I mean that’s the design”.
You see? I told you this was going to get strange.
The Shape Of Things That Were
As a toy, the shape of the Longhorn pushes all of the nostalgia buttons of many truck enthusiasts. The shape appears to be a slightly lower-polygon abstraction of older American pickups with bluff “foreheads” over flat grilles like the fifth through the eighth generation of F-Series Fords or the second generation 1968-72 General Motors C/K trucks.
From a functional standpoint, the shape is indeed ideal, with an easily accessible bed and a nose that can accommodate any ICE motor or enormous frunk if it’s an EV.
The Candylab products are indeed beautifully crafted toys; I’ve seen them at independent toy stores and they’re likely to last a lifetime. But making it real? Well, if Elon Musk has told us anything it’s that people will buy a non-commercial vehicle with such a sharp, angular design. The one possible good thing is that if such an aesthetic is applied to a work truck, all of the expected damage sustained over the years will merely add character to it, as opposed to Cybertruck where such dents and mark will make it appear to be a degrading cast-off Mars movie set prop.
Still, how the hell are we going to do this? Where do we even start?
So It’s Like 24:1 Scale?
The team desperately tried to get Jason back on track by at least asking how this real, scaled-up toy truck would be powered. “That doesn’t matter” Torch quipped back. “Who cares? It just has to look like the toy. You want an EV? We’ll get some electric skateboard chassis. Internal combustion engine? Chassis are available everywhere. Hell, I even called Nissan and they’re willing to ship leftover Titan frames and engines to my island right now; they’ll do ANYTHING for cash”.
A picture of a red Longhorn toy is put up on the screen; Jason grabs a Sharpie (no, not a dry erase) and starts drawing on the glass (seriously?).
JT doesn’t want to screw with the profile or nose shape, but he knows that a big white rectangle won’t work up front. Likely it will need a grille, so Torch suggests a black area surrounded by a wide white or chrome trim. He then changes his mind and makes the entire white trim glow as a DRL that can also blink amber as turn signals. “We can hide projector lights in there” said one designer, who immediately got a scowl from Jason as if he’d just put ham and cheese on toasted Challah bread (which tastes great, by the way). “Are you fucking kidding me, son? SEALED BEAMS!” screamed Torch as he drew four circles onto the grille space.
Side marker lights — a JT pet peeve — were added next, as well as “real” door handles you yank to open. Black LLV Mail Truck-like bumpers are drawn on the front and back, with black rocker panels connecting them; the protruding wheels on the toy are pushed in flush and surrounded by angular Cybertruck-style wheel arches (though Jason prefers to call them “Jeep SJ inspired”). Resigned to their fate, the designers start to flesh out Torch’s concept:
Actually, you can see that they are starting to have some fun. A few designers wanted to add silver paint and make a mock Cybertruck, but others went in a different direction. Despite his desire for a basic truck, Jason particularly likes the two-tone paint combinations that were so popular on pickups in period. Wheels with body-colored inserts and chrome caps just get Mr. Torchinsky all hot and bothered. The designers are partying like it’s 1979. I’m surprised there’s no roll bar with KC Highlights on it; this thing looks like it came off of the set of No Country For Old Men.
Someone adds a big logo that says “Big Timber”, bringing up visions of an owner sporting a thick mustache, flannel shirt and puffer vest with Mork From Ork rainbow stripes on the front. It doesn’t matter that the only timber on Jasonia are palm trees; Torch loves the name, and he loves the look. Here’s an animation of the transition for kid’s toy to adult plaything:
The toy has really slick looking taillights worked into the tops of the rear fenders.
The “Big Timer” does the same thing. Note how the taillights blend into the side markers: a Jason demand so that they just need one bulb (“an 1157, dammit!”). There’s a sliding rear window with an optional screen to stop all of the leaves and other debris in the bed from being sucked into the cabin.
As with old school trucks, we’ll offer a longer wheelbase model and one with an extended cab. However, no four door trucks here; back in the day a “crew cab” was reserved for ferrying railroad employees.
The sun was starting to get low, but Dear Leader Torch refused to leave until an interior was roughed out. A simple exterior, in Jason’s opinion, needs to be matched by an equally uncomplicated inside. Should it have digital screens? Maybe all analog instruments? Which one? “Anything” quips Jason.
The solution begins with the inspiration image of a very late sixties clean shape:
What we’ll do is a rectangle surrounded by a padded frame. The whole surface is a grid where any kind of switch or instrument could be installed. LCD screens for the driver and center dash? Sure- the example shown even has a retro looking display of analog gauges in front of the steering wheel. Plenty of squares for switches like hazards, rear defogger, or other options. Yes, there’s a column shift for the transmission.
An add-on pod below the dash can be a “cell phone garage” to charge your device or to hold even more switches for accessories. Giant knobs for the climate control in the center of the dash are matched by a headlight knob on the other side of the steering column- easily operated by big, dirty gloves. Even the power window switches are big Fisher-Price-toy-looking buttons.
So lavish; even air conditioning in that picture above! Jason digs it but has a look on his face that says he wants more austerity. We can give it to him:
Modularity, baby! Crank windows, and forget the face level vents. A hazard flasher button is the only remaining “accessory” with a switch. The screens are replaced by Stewart Warner analog units, and even an old school AM radio. Now we’ve got the truck worthy of a FARM USE license plate.
Nobody Will Write A Country Song About A Cybertruck
Torch is extremely happy with the finished JAM Big Timber. As the sun starts to set into the ocean in the distance over Borgward Beach, the idea of a “pure truck” was becoming far more appealing to the design team then they first thought.
Also, it’s obvious that many Cybertruck owners are trying to customize their own rides, so why not make a vehicle where the whole point is for the owners to add their own twist to it? Let’s face it: true austerity is a bit much to take for most people. Many examples of exposed-concrete Brutalist architecture have met the bulldozer and dynamite in recent years, to the of dismay of nobody.
Can toys that were inspired by real, functional objects turn around and inspire a new full scale functional object? Well, consumer trucks are often seen as “big toys” so it seems only natural to make a toy truck real. Oscar Wilde might have been right, even though he’d never seen a 1975 F-150.
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