It rumbles down the highway, tearing up the asphalt and taking curves at breakneck speed. It's a massive piece of man-made machinery and might. It's . . . Neon, the car that glows.

Nope, doesn't work.

Sorry Chrysler, Neon just does not fit the definition of a car. Cars have a certain mystique about them, an aura of excitement and power. Neon's aura is the same as the one on your first bike, the red one with the horn and dorky basket on the handlebars.

The Pop Cesspool is not even truly convinced that Neon exists. So far, we've only seen it from a front view in commercials with music we'd expect for a Fisher Price toy, not a car. What if it's only a cardboard cutout used to lure unsuspecting car buyers into the Chrysler dealership so that car salesmen can try to push K-cars on them?

True, Neon is "cute." But cars aren't supposed to be "cute." Small fuzzy animals are "cute." The girl who sat across the class from you in fourth grade was "cute." Babies (other people's) held at arm's length so that they can't spit up on you are "cute." Cars are not.

And who wants a car that says, "Hi." If a car starts talking, it better say something like, "Hey, man, hop in and crank up the bass and we'll go cruising and knock off some pedestrians."

If I'm ever driving down the highway and some car says "Hi" to me, I'll run it off the road -- with my trendy red Saturn.