Volkswagen Touareg

Well, bourgeois, have you achieved victory? Bourgeoisini, seven-pound merchants and priests. If you want to drive a VW Touareg, you will have to get used to the image of one of the above characters of the Russian Empire, that is, sorry, the Eurasian Economic Union, as it is now customary to mention. Of course, you can resist and drive a wave, they say, I didn’t take an SUV to get into such a company. Well, well ... Shout, bang your fist on the table. Life will put everything in its place. Since you are uncomfortable among this brethren, it is better to sell this car. Buy yourself a Nissan Pathfinder, which is not so rigidly determined, and leave the Touareg. He talks too much about his owner.

You will not deny that there are aristocratic cars, there are gangsters, there are ladies', rogue, petty-bourgeois, and there are bourgeois, that is, Touareg. Moreover, the bourgeois in it are not from the movie "The Modest Charm of the Bourgeoisie." Not far. Rather, from Soviet cartoons, to which Mayakovsky made his chopped signatures. That is, shorty with a belly, in dark jackets, with an umbrella and a cigar. The real owners of the Touareg, of course, do not look like that, moreover, there may even be writers or athletes among them, but just pick off the top layer - and a bourgeois will appear, you can’t get away from this fact, yes, my sir.

One nameless devil, lurking in the Eurasian expanses, once said through the mouth of a classic of Russian literature: “My dream is to come true, but so that finally, irrevocably, into some fat seven-pound merchant’s wife and believe everything that she believes in, My ideal - enter the church and put a candle from the bottom of my heart, by God, so. But this is an old thing. Today, such a passage would sound completely different: “A cottage in Rozhdestveno and a dark blue VW Touareg will turn me into a person. I mix with business plankton. Get rid of painful existential reflections. Bonanza Braun leather exudes a spicy fragrance, while the sleek Sapeli Mahagoni wood decor is a delight to the eye. The devil himself does not hurt to enjoy natural materials, quince wood. Keep away from me, stay away!” Although I did not get into the statistics, I can easily imagine the abbess of a convent behind the wheel of the Touareg. Not a nun flaming with faith, but a strong economic lady.

Design Touareg surprisingly combines stiffness, austerity with corpulence and efficiency. The line of headlights and grille is quite canonical, without liberties. But the body shape already contains a hint of extra fat in the area from the navel and below.

The general message is not obscured by postmodernist quirks and is easy to read: a surplus is acceptable, but only in the economic part. Simply put, the only sins allowed are chicken soup after six and a noticeable resale margin. Is this bad? Save me, God! The true sin is to have a complete set with an eight-cylinder engine. There are only six "pots" here. True, with a turbine and an automatic gearbox. but you can’t get a mechanical one with fire during the day. Air suspension? I don’t even know, it seems to be, but in the spring you can’t get to the monastery through the muddy road with the usual clearance.

You see, all the excesses in the Touareg seem to be justified and necessary, like a consecrated bourgeois way of life. Okay, I have to go. We still need to call on the zemstvo headman, and then to the tavern, grind something with the nobility.

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