Selling your soul to the devil and then begging for a do-over will only make the devil laugh harder.

Electric cars are supposed to be the great savior of the environment, and the next chapter in the story of wheeled transportation. And I suppose if this had come about thoughtfully and carefully, at a measured pace that would allow people and governments to transition sensibly and sustainably, perhaps it would be more widely accepted by — and accessible to — a larger majority of drivers.

Instead, competing types of cars were introduced at lightning speed before the longer mileage issues were worked out, and before there was sufficient infrastructure to support a nationwide transition away from fossil fuels. And as in so many instances of chest-thumping in capitalism, there were buffoons with too much money and too little consideration for the greater good elbowing their way to supremacy.

And this is how we got here:

This is the Tesla Cybertruck, a monstrosity of steel, excess and testosterone unleashed onto an unsuspecting world by Elon Musk, the founder and CEO of Tesla and a whole lot of other things I won’t bother with here.

A stainless steel hard-on.

This vehicle retails for between $61,000 and $110,000 before add-ons, making it one of the most expensive consumer vehicles on the market.

But that’s not the most interesting part.

Apparently, if you buy a Cybertruck, you cannot resell it during the first year of ownership. If you violate this clause, you must pay Tesla a fine of — sit down — $50,000, and you may be permanently barred from ever buying another Tesla.

  

That’s right.

Selling your soul to the devil and then begging for a do-over will only make the devil laugh harder.

If you Google “used Tesla Cybertruck,” you’ll find a number of these behemoths available for sale, used. Either the owners decided they could afford the penalty, or they already know they’ll never buy another Tesla, or more likely, they got in way over their heads.

I have not an ounce of pity for these buyers, or their remorse. If you’re wealthy enough to buy one of these grotesque, offensive hulks, you’re smart enough to read the fine print (or pay someone to do it for you and translate). 

I also feel no pity for Tesla founder Elon Musk, who has shown himself to be a rich, unrepentant oaf and possibly an antisemite, or for anyone employed by Tesla (nobody pointed a gun at you and forced you to choose this clown act as your employer).

Anyone who earns enough to spend his money this way — and I’ve yet to find evidence of a woman buying one of these things — and buys in has drunk a poisonous brew indeed. You think that buying something like this is going to get you into the same club as Musk or Bezos? Nope. You’re just rich guys aping the super-rich, and you can’t keep up. You could do a lot better, so much more truly good stuff, with your money, and you chose to spend it on this? You don’t have enough political juice to persuade state and local governments to make roadways, parking spaces and garages bigger so you can park your hundred thousand dollar Hot Wheels(TM)  Terminator(TM) edition clown car. 

No pity here.