Racing, in all its chimerical forms, continues to dominate the mind of Mike Krahulik. I just sorta like it when people like things; my psychology is constructed in a way that makes the joy of others my own joy. I benefit when others are allowed to inhabit themselves with greater fidelity. The only subgenre in "car shit" that really gets me going independent of the contact high is Rally - some combination of the fundamentally co-op nature of the sport, the incredible danger, and the vowel-studded Finnish names toast in the pan to form a nutty roux. For him, it's different. If there are four wheels it registers as a "valid mind burrow."
I wasn't fully aware you could still be a Slot Car person. My primary use case for slot car tracks as a deviant youth was the creation of Rail Guns, whose purpose was to transform small cars into projectiles. I'm told you can complete entire circuits and race cars fully around them, until they return to their origin, and the cycle begins anew. It's a concept with an almost lyrical psychological heft. Anyway, for your purpose, here is where this pastime as gotten to in the modern world:
It turns out slot cars have gotten WAY WAY cooler since I last played with a set sometime back in the late 80’s! Who knew!? pic.twitter.com/xNoFFlBvfO— Gabe (@cwgabriel) December 26, 2021
I guess these sonsabitches can change lanes and shit now. Of course, like any good obsession, there's a rabbit hole inside the rabbit hole; if you end up in this Scalextric ecosystem, there's chassis, chips of various kinds, motors, all of it. When you find a vein like this, a tuggable thread with a ton of play, it's such a weird braid of excitement and peace. One can exhale fully; Mister Death cannot find purchase.