Military weapons
Are not designed with beauty in mind, for the most part, though many of them are indeed beautiful, if only by accident. My M1 Carbine is prettier than most, if only by virtue of having a great stock. The lines of a 1911 Swiss rifle, or a Swedish Mauser, or a Springfield 1873 Trapdoor. All of these rifles have a beauty, imparted by their designers, that has transcended their original purpose.
It would be easy to say they contain a soul that more modern firearms do not, but I don’t think that is the case, they are weapons of war designed to be the best at their respective time. If there was an easily moldable material known as Flimflamulite that was readily available at the beginning of firearms manufacture, all stocks would be made of it, and firearms with wood would be looked upon as weird, or “Steampunk”. No, it’s an utter accident that guns had wood stocks, and a lot now don’t, because there are materials other than wood available, and they work very well.
Still:
“This weapon of iron and wood” sort of loses something when you say “This weapon of plastic and aluminum”.
Suppose it gets the job done, but I still like my M1 Carbine.
“Flimflamulite?”
Isn’t that what the pillars of Hope And Change are constructed?
Traded a Garand for a M1 Carbine. At my age, no regrets.
I have to admit… I have owned plastic guns and found them marvels. But I still have a romantic attachment to blued steel and dark, polished walnut.
M
Og;
I’ve got ’em both. My DPMS LR 308 is more accurate, (sub moa) holds more rounds, has a far better trigger (not stock) and is more compact. That said, my M1 Garand will be the last thing that ever leaves my armory. It barks, it kicks, its trigger is by no means match grade. But it barks every time it is told to bark, it is accurate enough to hit a man at 500 yds, every time, and it has enough character to make up for any other shortcomings. Not only that it audibly tells me when I’ve fired the last round in its magazine. No other rifle talks to me like that.
Like many other elderly machines, it functions properly and reliably within the parameters of its design and intent.
And by the way, the ’54 Jag will be driven to Sebring this weekend for a few days of vintage fun. It’ll carry me, camping gear, food and Guinness for the weekend. Perhaps a 500 mile round trip. No worrys, no problems, except for the lousy 17 mpg fuel milage.
Happy days to ya
Roger
LOL~! 500 miles is a weekday.
Don’t get me wrong, I love jags. But a subaru WRX will outrun it, outhandle it, outlast it, and need 1/100th the maintenance.
Og my friend, Put the most excellent Subie next to the Jag and then ask the question which is more desirable.
One could easily exchange a Cobra, an E type, a Boss 302 Mustang, a 454 Camaro, etc etc. You are not comparing apples and apples.
There is no question that todays machines are superior in virtually any measurable manner.
Different rides for different purposes.
I actually use a chipped VW turbo diesel Jetta wagon to carry me, my dive gear and my wife to most all the places we go. The Jag goes when the time is Right, the weather is right, and the location is right.
In my very humble opinion, you need a chopped ’32 Ford 3 window coupe with a mildly worked 351 Cleveland and nice 5 speed. It’ll make you feel good whenever you have the time to enjoy it. (And feel even better when you romp on it)
Submitted with great respect
Roger
“which is more desirable.”
The subaru, no doubt. Because it out-everythings the Jag. Go fast? Subaru. Corner? Subaru. Last tons longer, with no maintenance? Subaru.
If I want a car to look at I’ll buy a picture. Cars are for driving. I don’t have a ton of cash to spend on a car that won’t do it’s job every day with no maintainenace other than oil changes. I drive the Exploder hard. Very hard. And far. A jag would last a month, maybe, and not do the job I need done.
If I had a lot of cash laying around, like Lotto cash, I’d have an E type, and I’d have a guy with a flatbed take it places where I coud drive it around and carry it back when i was done. I’d have Chip Foos slice me up a nice little hotrod, and then I’d hire guys to wrench them for me. My cars have to work, every day, and give me no grief. points, carbs, etc. all = grief.