Luke meditates... or something

"Ommmmmmmmmmmm....."

"Ommmmmmmmmmmm....."

Obi stands on the other side of the door impatiently. "When I said meditate upon the issue at hand I had something quieter in mind. Have you finished yet?"

"Ommm.... oh, er... I suppose so"

<rustle>

<clunk>

<flush>

Luke came out of the bathroom and gave Obi back his July issue of "My Beard Monthly" before collapsing on the sofa intent on an afternoon nap.

"And?" asked Obi.

Luke opened one eye and saw Obi gingerly holding the magazine between thumb and forefinger.

"Oh, sorry. It got a bit damp when..."

Obi dropped the mag.

"...I washed my hands."

"Mmm." Obi's lack of conviction was the kind that ex-footballers usually had to pay millions for. "That wasn't what I meant Luke. What did your studies reveal?"

Luke's head flopped back onto the couch and he closed his eyes again. "That beards are proof God is a woman with a nasty sense of humour."

"Stupid boy. And this revelation relates to racing *how* Luke?"

Luke sighed. "Ok, ok... beards are like racing because...um... because... because drivers who go fast are almost as irritating as beards that grow fast?"

Luke could tell the old Jedi's irritated expression had nothing to do with his beard.

"Think harder."

Luke felt a headache coming on. He looked at the phone, wondering if a miraculous call from his agent would intervene, summoning him to the casting of Wing Commander 26: Kilrathi Landing, in which it turns out the Kilrathi homeworld was only destroyed in the dreams of ex-porn star Pammy Starblaster. He'd play Bobby Starblaster, Pammy's good natured husband fighting constantly against his evil Kilrathi-loving brother Jayah Starblaster. They'd have cool spacesuits and lots of green screen stuff like in the Matrix... only with less jumping off buildings and more tongue action if he had anything to do with it.

Competition for the part was fierce though. His agent said it may well go to a talented actor by the name of Joey Tribiani instead.

"I'm waiting Luke." Obi followed the young Jedi's gaze. "Perhaps you'd like to phone a friend?"

Luke sneered. "You know full well my only friends are a seven foot Wookie and a three foot robot on wheels...and I can't understand a word either of them says."

Now Obi sighed. "Sometimes you worry me Luke."

"Nice to know I'm getting *something* right them."

"Think, Luke, about the beard's purpose."

Luke muttered something under his breath.

"No, Luke it's not for catching crumbs, hiding birthmarks, compensating for premature hair loss, giving your friends something to laugh at, or stopping women from asking you to go down. The beard, Luke, is a sign of manliness...of testosterone-induced strength... an outward reminder of how male attributes can distinguish you from the subtler feminine traits which a driver must repress if he would attain oneness with the Force and achieve Alien status."

Luke finally began to understand that subscription to My Beard Monthly. "Ah," he said. "That explains it then." It might also explain why Obi hadn't had a girlfriend for at least a hundred and thirty years.

"Fear, Luke. Fear is the enemy!"

"But last week you said Darth was the enemy."

"I also said you should eat your broccoli for all the good it did."

"The only broccoli I'm interested in is Cubby." If the Kilrathi thing fell through his agent assured him there'd be a part for him in the next James Bond movie "You Only Live Twice, But I'm a Buddhist!", in which he'd play Bond's arch enemy Reincarnato... though it'd been a garbled conversation on a mobile and his agent may have said something about Reincarnato's enema.

Still, it'd be a job and these days anything that paid real money was welcome. Obi's Ronco Racers had been forced to go independent after Ronco -- famous for their Sh'ftah keyboard -- were bankrupted by their foray into force feedback. Apparently having your fingers broken as punishment for crashing didn't go down too well even with the hardcore crowd, and the resulting law suit nearly crippled Ronco. The final straw though was when the marketing department realised the force feedback keyboard mashed potatoes without the assistance of lap dancers. Without their jiggly input, the viewing figures for the TV ads plummeted, taking with them Ronco's last hope of a return to profitability.

Since then Obi's bRonco Racers -- don't laugh, it saved repainting the car -- had been mainly funded by an auction of Star Wars memorabilia...mostly Obi's toenail clippings, Yoda's ear wax, Jabba's belly-button fluff (enough to make a small blanket) and a cushion that Princess Leia once sat on briefly. While this had proved quite lucrative, racing was an expensive sport, especially the way Luke got through Lotus spares.

"Is that it then?" said Luke. "All that beard rubbish just to tell me not to be afraid?"

"Allegory is a powerful vehicle."

"Huh," muttered Luke. "Maybe we'd have more luck driving that then."

"But, Luke, while fear may be the enemy, it's also your friend!"

Luke's headache wasn't getting any better.

"For over three years Luke you've played safe... avoided stressful setups and sought a harmonious balance."

Luke thought harmonious balance was Larry Adler standing on one leg. "But you said use a conservative setup when racing Obi... I followed your advice and we did quite well. Now you're..."

"Now I'm telling you you've grown Luke! Experience is a two edged sword. It makes you wise, but it also makes you conservative, reluctant to take risks with your achievements. It's this fear we must now confront."

Achievements? Luke was struggling. He did win a race once, but he wasn't sure it counted if you were the only one to finish. He supposed he *was* in the top thousand on GPLRank, which was an achievement of sorts. And only last week he'd had a stunning five lap battle with one of the Aliens... though the replay had shown the Alien was just having fun, which was great in its way but not something to brag about in the bar afterwards.

Luke sighed. "So what do you suggest Obi? You're not going to make me try to drive Jabba the Huttu's setups again are you?"

<fx: camera pans to Obi's wicked grin. Fade to clock showing time passing>

Luke's approaching Lesmo1... sideways again. He hits the barrier, bounces off, and puts his head in his hands as the car slithers to a halt on the grass.

Perched precariously on Yoda's levitated shoulders, Obi floated to a halt above Luke.... at least he would have done if Yoda could see where they were going properly. "No, no, no Luke!"

"But Obi, this setup's *impossible*. I've had more luck with lottery scratchcards, supermodels, and proving Schroedinger's equation from first principles!"

"You mean none at all?"

"Exactly," he sulked.

"And why is that, Luke? Is it really impossible to drive this setup?"

"Yes it bloody is!"

"No it *isn't*. If the Aliens can do it, it is, by definition, possible. The weakness is in you. You've grown lazy with your old setups... you expect too much stability, react too slowly, you're just not *learning* any more."

"But when I touch the brakes the back spins. When I accelerate the back spins. If I pick my nose the back spins! It's just...it's...it's..."

"Impossible?"

"Yes!"

Yoda managed to get his face out from between Obi's thighs (shame they weren't filming this or they could have raised a lot of sponsorship money from the footage). "In gear wrong, you are."

"Oh, sorry Yoda," said Obi, loosening his grip around the ancient Jedi's neck. You're right, maybe I should've changed my underwear before we came out."

"Underwear a problem isn't... though more than once a fortnight bathing an improvement would be."

Obi blushed.

"Luke, right is Obi. Setup fast is good. But setup fast *delicate* is. Treat gently you must if Alien you would be. So near corner lower revs in higher gear will improvement see, yes?"

Luke missed the days when R2D2 sat on the back of his Lotus keeping him company. As well as offering moral (and, more importantly, neck) support he'd also been able to translate... albeit from gibberish into whistly electronic garbage. It didn't help, but it had been quite reassuring.

"Listen to Yoda, Luke. You're used to dropping into a low gear and keeping the revs high through the corner. Lower revs in a slightly higher gear will give you more control at the critical moments while keeping you in the powerband."

"But Master... you preached high revs and torque and power and...er, stuff..." some of which he'd nearly understood. "Now you say lower revs gives me more control and will make me faster. It seems all wrong."

Obi shrugged. "Wrong is a state of mind. Open your mind to the possibility that nothing is wrong and you may attain the exit speed you desire through stealth not brute force. Contemplate, if you will, the youth on his 125cc moped. Does he not add a monstrous exhaust to give the impression of speed? Yet all he really does is annoy pets, look like a fool, and get off with the ugly girl ignored by all the guys with proper motorbikes and bountiful alco-pops."

Luke thought getting off with anyone was a result and a noisy exhaust seemed like a small price to pay. Best not tell Obi though. "Oh, all right," he said, resetting the car. "Let's just check I've got this right... My enemy is my friend, wrong is right, lower revs can mean higher speed if you're careful, and you don't bath often enough? Is that all?"

"There is *always* more, Luke."

"Well in that case," he muttered, stomping his foot onto the accelerator, "make mine Demi."

<fx: Watch as the Lotus speeds off into the distance. Watch lap after lap pass, watch the young Jedi forget his old habits and slowly...painfully slowly, discover that wild setups can be tamed>

Andrew "1:27.92" McP

After an amazing tussle with Allan Scott on VROC a few nights ago (yes, he was playing with me a bit, but it was superb fun) I took a serious look at Monza. My old setup had no life in it and although capable of high 1:28's in racing I was lucky to get low 1:29's. Took a visit to parc-ferme, picked one of the top five Lotus setups at random, and went to work. I know I can't drive with the brake bias lower than about 56%, so I didn't try for long. The car was still a monster, but by gently altering the rollbars to make the car slightly less flip-happy I was able to get a setup which almost worked. The breakthrough was when I stopped dropping from 3rd to 2nd in Lesmos1&2 and Parabolica. By sticking to 3rd and overcoming my instinctive desire to keep the revs high in the powerband, I found the control I needed to get through the corners in one piece and -- if I'm careful -- get regular 1:28's and a total of three 1:27's. It's hardly earth shattering, but I really thought I couldn't go faster until this weekend. Now... well, I'll probably never lap under 1:28 again, but that's not going to stop me trying!