Boredom is a fearsome prospect. There's a limit to the number of cars and microwaves you can buy. What do you do then?

The ultimate concept car will move so fast, even at rest, as to be invisible.

The car as we know it is on the way out. To a large extent, I deplore its passing, for as a basically old-fashioned machine, it enshrines a basically old-fashioned idea: freedom.

She had originally agreed to appear naked, but on seeing the cars informed me that she would only appear topless—an interesting logic was at work there.

I made a very slatternly mother, notably unkeen on housework, unaware that homes need to be cleaned now and then, and too often to be found with a cigarette in one hand and a drink in the other.

There are signs, I think, that people aren't satisfied by consumerism: that people resent the fact that the most moral decision in their lives is choosing what colour their next car will be.