What's the difference?
If you have even a passing interest in the Tesla Model S, you'll have seen the endless internet videos where someone has lined up a Ferrari, Lamborghini, or another fast exotic car you could name, to race against it.
There's a long build-up, usually involving men who can't operate a baseball cap, a drag strip and idiotic words in the headline like "destroys" or "rips", or whatever. There's usually a bunch of honking bros with bad haircuts watching on, already planning their next viral video where they set a perfectly good mobile phone on fire.
It's facile and idiotic and doesn't give you any real clue as to the depth of whatever supercar it has "humiliated" or, just as importantly, the depth of the Model S and its spectacular engineering.
So, I won't be spending the next thousand words building up to the conclusion that the Model S P100D with Ludicrous Mode is up there with the world's fastest production cars from 0-100km/h, because I'll tell you now that it is, and it does it in a claimed 2.7 seconds.
Now that's out of the way, there's quite a bit more to the Model S than a "broken" Nissan GT-R owner weeping into their bento box.
Tesla’s Cybertruck truly is a giant wedge of cutting-edge technology, and not only because its edges are so sharp you could literally cut yourself, or chop kindling, with them.
No vehicle, nor indeed even any of his stupid ideas, so perfectly represents the manic mania, the whooping, wanton wackiness of Elon Musk as this comically angular, sharp-edged savager of pedestrians.
And yet people, and American people in particular as we discovered on a trip to Los Angeles to drive one, love the Cybertruck. Tesla is said to be holding as many as 2 million pre-orders for it in North America alone and many Australians have expressed interest in buying one, when the company finally manages to build it in right-hand drive, and get it on sale down here, almost regardless of the price (spoiler alert: it’s going to be a lot).
I’ve seen a lot of strange and wildly ugly cars over the years, but if you parked the Cybertruck next to all of them, they’d just disappear because you really can’t take your eyes off its pointy, almost dangerous looking lines. It’s like a human tried to engineer an echidna on wheels.
It does make me laugh, though, and so it was with a smile on my face and acid dripping from my pen that I arrived at a giant Tesla delivery centre in LA to drive it. Come with me.
I spoke to a friend who bought a Model S before one had even hit the ground here in Australia. He chuckled when I told him how much this car cost but then said something I'd already suspected. "My mates who own a P100D would never drop that kind of money on a normal car. Buying a Tesla is like buying shares in the company, you're buying into the future."
And that's kind of the point. A $300,000 Audi RS7 (fully-loaded, obviously) is a bit slower in a straight line, looks just as good, is extremely well-built and emits noises that make people like me go as weak at the knees (just as the Model S' acceleration does). And would probably win a 10 lap race with the Tesla around Mount Panorama.
The Tesla is the future of cars. It may still be decades before the internal combustion engine is gone, but Tesla buyers are getting the jump, and today the Model S is the best car in which to make that leap.
Weird, wild, unnecessary, arguably horrific to look at, or at least challenging, too fast, too silly, the Cybertruck is many things, but all of the bad things are obvious from a distance while you only realise just how impressive, clever and intense it is once you take it for a drive.
The drive-by-wire steering alone is a revolutionary bit of tech that will surely bleed into the wider world.
Overall I thought I would hate it, but I walked away, head still shaking, with grudging respect approaching admiration for the Tesla Cybertruck.