2025 Tesla Cybertruck: Regular Car Reviews

[0:00]2025 Tesla Cybertruck. I drive a Tesla Cybertruck. I wear an Omega Speedmaster and an Apple Watch, while I humble brag to my therapist, with whom I am making no progress. Come talk to me. I will say, lock in, grind, positioning, leverage, LinkedIn. I literally say LinkedIn. I drive a Tesla Cybertruck. I go to the Septer regional rail station in Ambler, Pennsylvania, stand on the platform with the other commuters and say, another day, another dollar, am I right? And then I don't get on the train. I drive my Tesla Cybertruck to Pfizer pharmaceuticals, where I am paid my consulting rate of $8,000 to regurgitate Tony Robbins quotes in front of a PowerPoint slideshow of AI photos of myself standing next to world leaders and business celebrities, including him. Someone in the back says, did you go to the island too? And that person is promptly terminated. I leave Pfizer pharmaceuticals. As I pass a janitor, I say, another day, another dollar, am I right? Now I go home to my open floor plan condo above a data center and next to an ice detention facility. I spend my nights spending real money to buy gold shields and guns on marathon before I cap my evening beating off to the curb scene in American History X. Criticizing cyber trucks is like scolding wealthy teenagers walking out of the Louis Vuitton store with two bags each. What are your words going to do? Those kids are covered in money armor. Any mistakes they make, lawyers will solve. All wasted money is replenished by generational wealth. So who are you? You're nothing but a noise that will go away. Tesla Cybertruck. brought to you by watching Tom Segura deliver a water tight 20-minute guest spot at Helium, deciding that you can do it too, going up for an open mic with a flipbook full of plagiarized Dan Soder material, and then getting booed off stage. But then out in the parking lot, you smile and say, I really got a reaction. Tesla Cybertruck, brought to you by paying a sex worker to watch you play Hell Divers. There is no room for automotive journalism with Tesla anymore. I've watched a revolutionary automaker transform from a plucky underdog to an oppressive corpo jingoist within the span of only 10 years. The hair plugged and TRT injected owner bought Twitter, turned it into a bot and Russian provocator cesspool, and then sucked up to a Morton Joe and was rewarded with his own government agency where he and his hangers on can play pretend cops. Now he exists as a vitamin D deficient blob rambling into road microphones unable to coherently answer even slow-pitched softball questions. The people surrounding him are equally devoid of moral compasses, driven only by opportunity and manipulation. Each of his advisors have IV needles buried deep into his spine, sucking what clout, marrow and connections are left in his anterior pelvic tilted skeleton. And the Cybertruck is his latest and for all we know, his last creation. A rotten geometric slab of cool freeway oppression driven by people who, as children, spent every recess standing right next to the teacher. It's stamped steel body panels do not have beveled edges. Maybe a non-union scab ran a Porter cable angle grinder along the edge to remove the burrs if any attempt was made at all. You see, these panel edges are about as sharp as a steak knife. Not enough to cleanly slice a tomato, but enough to tear your skin open if you grab them too hard. A fact that Cybertruck owners love. They smile sociopathically and remark, It's a tough world and I'm a tough guy. Tell them that the built-in tunnel cover blocks the rear window, and they'll be prouder, with a puffed out chest, they will cackle, I am a shark. I never look back. I keep moving forward. You better look out. There's no storage in the doors. The owner had to 3D print his own kubbies. is not stock. Not stock. Nope, so if you buy this, this is not here. And then over on the sides, these are just handles.

[3:56]Oh, okay. So the handles fell down through. Yep, so they fall through. So these are three-printed just as a cub. And then there's these little storage guys. Yep. So this is just an open corner, something that could like you put there, but it's going to flop. So a little bit more storage. Were these something you bought? Those I bought. The turn signals are on the square wheel, which means they switch orientations during sharp turns. The accelerator has no finesse, patience or tact. It shoots the 6,000 pound disaster forward like a rich redditor's correcting people. Yeah, at least that's a normal sound. Sorry. God damn it. You sucks. Times are hard for all of us under the table in 2026. Frozen water in airports, fake jobs on every hiring website and the Gulf War's third installment is beginning. The Cybertruck is the perfect car for 2026. A perfect rolling representation of class division. The rich are covered in plate metal, high up and separated from the working and under class. In their tanks, they're protected, ready to run over anybody that looks at them sideways or makes them feel bad. Get yours. Get money. Get paid. Screw the other guy, be a man. Associate yourself with power and you will benefit. Get enough power and you too can openly palm slap a judge in the face and hide behind a rampart of lawyers and nuisance litigation. Cybertruck. The perfect car for 2026. I'm reminded of another car from a past administration, the Hummer H2. The Horde up GMC Suburban made to look like Donald Rumsfeld's sex basement driven by new males listening to new metal and watching Fox News body counts from the religious and perpetual war on terror. The Cybertruck is the modern Hummer H2, only it drives worse. The worst car I ever drove was the Oldsmobile Bravada. Its V6 was a circumcised V8 that delivered no discernible miles per gallon improvement. Go watch my video on the Oldsmobile Bravada. Doug Demuro is in the comments. He said it was one of the best car reviews he ever watched. The Bravada was a car that performed every action with protest and sloth. The Bravada was a car that hated being a car, but the Cybertruck is a car that hates the human inside. The long A-pillar hides cars approaching from T intersections, the seats feel like Spirit Airlines seats, the variable ratio drive-by-wire steering removes tactile sensations for the driver. Now, let me explain. With a traditional rack, hydraulic or electric, it doesn't matter, there's an unbroken physical connection from the asphalt through the tires, the wheels, the tie rods, the steering rack, the steering shaft, the steering wheel, and finally your fingertips. You can feel the road surface change in the wet, the snow, the sleet, the gravel. You can feel if there's suddenly wet leaves on the ground. Any small variance, it's small, but remember, we as humans have oversaturated nerve endings in our fingertips. And all of this information is fuel for our brains as we explore our world, either outside of a vehicle or within. But when that sense of touch is severed, driving becomes distant, alien, muted. We will make the steering wheel vibrate so you know when you're veering out of your lane. First, that doesn't solve the problem of feeling the road. And second, that's just another example of big tech removing humanous automotive design and replacing it with slop. Tesla Cybertruck. When all your political machinations and scheming and pandering and ball fondling and yes manning is complete, and you're nestled behind 20-foot shrubs, titanium gates, private security, dome defeating automatic net guns and lasers snug in your 18,000 square foot minimalist sarcophagus, what's left to enjoy but other people's slop? Tesla Cybertruck, an empty shell of a vehicle for people who are empty shells. All right. There's one feature of the Cybertruck that pierced my hatred. The four-wheel steering. I like this. I liked it on the Honda Prelude SI and I like it here. It solves the problem of the Cybertruck size and maneuverability. But that was it. We're living in strange times in 2026, and for a portion of our Yankee population, the survival plan is to stand next to whoever holds the wheel of our out of control ship of state. Stand next to whoever captain is there and and nod and compliment their navigation, no matter if we're headed for rocks or icebergs. The logic is if the ship stays upright, the captain may reward you with extra rations. And if the ship capsizes and you're clinging to the side of a life boat as 20 angry sailors look at you and your hat, you can always say, I'm actually, I was trying to talk some sense into him. This wheel that's that's how small it is. It's like the width of my hand. It's tiny. This panel just pulls away. This doesn't match. But again, it's like, this is just tech slop for people who don't care. It's like, no matter how bad or how much I make fun of this car, the people who want to align themselves with Brocks won't care how bad it is. Tesla Cybertruck, the automotive equivalent of a YouTube thumbnail. This is designed for engagement and God help you if you get it. In general, none of us should care what anybody thinks about our car choices, but you need to have an especially thick skin to own a Cybertruck, because a car like this is a billboard for its driver, and that billboard is about as flattering as an ad for Angus beef without the G. It's funny, there's a Tesla right, there's a cyber truck right behind me. Oh, here he comes. I don't want to roll down the windows, but I'm still, I'm still going to flip them off. You're getting the attention you ordered, but it's too hot to send back to the kitchen. Yeah, people are noticing you. But it's really just drivers elbowing their passengers and saying, look at this asshole. This is the official car of, this guy again. And I think it comes back to the material reality of what a Cybertruck is, contrasted with its function as a symbol of performative futurism. Because I'd rather not sugarcoat it. The Cybertruck is a luxury dumpster and completely demystifies the act of living. Oh, everything is bullshit and nothing matters. Cool. I'm barely a participant in my own life, so I need some other way to realize my existence. Let me buy this big dumb anti-humanist shit post, so I can be witnessed, acknowledged, and coddled by people who can't tell you the cost of anything on the prices right without looking at the audience first. Look, if I wanted to take part in an expensive soul crushing humiliation ritual, I'd pay for a blue check mark. I guess the best thing you can say about a Cybertruck is that its value has dropped so steeply that you don't really have to pay six figures anymore to get one. But why would you even want to pay five for this, for this? Mechanical function has played the Cybertruck throughout its brief history, but that's not really what's holding it back. The issue with the Cybertruck is that it's ideologically vacant because trolling isn't an ideology. And maybe I can allow for the possibility that Elon truly did want to make a super truck for the masses. Yeah, well, this really isn't how you design one, not for the masses. You designed this for people whose lineage continues in spite of their personality rather than because of it. This has the counterfeit dignity of a man who thinks he gets an N-word pass because his mother of his children is black. I spent three hours in this joke of a vehicle and I was tired of it after 15 minutes. I can't even say I didn't give it a chance. I wanted to see what all the fuss is about. Because reviewers that we know, other YouTubers that we know and friends that I know, respect this, and some even like this. And maybe they drove a better version than we got, but personally, I don't think if I ever drove something so openly contemptuous of drivers. I'm not even convinced this wants to transport people, much less construction materials. You need to scroll on the touchscreen to put it into gear. There was no feedback, and if there was any, I couldn't feel it. Tesla Cybertruck, I wanted a work truck, but I also want people to know I don't flush when I use public toilets. Fine, numbers. It's faster than a 6,100 pound truck should be. And I would hope so at least, it's got 600 horsepower and 525 pound feet of torque. It's got truck proportions, but the soul of an investment banker on his fifth monster. You don't really coast in a Cybertruck, you doom scroll, because it can get sluggish if you aren't actively pushing it. Like it's struggling under the weight of its own anxiety inducing proportions. And I think it has something to do with these cartoonish dimensions. It's 223.7 inches long and yes, that is 10 inches shorter than a Silverado EV and the F150 lightning. But all that mass is distributed awkwardly, like a misshapen toolbox, which would have been a good alternative name for this for a variety of reasons. The Cybertruck has earned its spot, tying for number one as the worst car I've ever driven. And taking the first place as the worst truck I've ever driven. This is a truck in the same way falling down a flight of stairs is exercise. What was a lifted Cummins two on the nose? Was a Mercedes G wagon not bougie enough? Yes, it's disruptive. Yes, it's different. But not in the positive market influencing way, not in a joyous way. It's disruptive like a load bearing pillar in the middle of a grocery store aisle. It's disruptive like a man letting his farts out after he gets on the bus. It's Fisher price brutalism. It's an incubation chamber for human despair. It screams, we don't want to wait for the dystopia to come, so let's just make something that's already wearing its face. I thought futurism was supposed to be optimistic, but I don't see any optimism here. I see grim, dark and hate. I see exploitation and cruelty. I see a lack of remorse and a lack of empathy, and I guess that's fitting. Hope has a higher asking price in a world that normalizes bullshit like this. Now, a Tesla Model S driver can pry off the T on the back of the car and replace it with Audi rings or an Acura badge, and hide like a xenomorph among sheep. A Model 3 or a Model X driver can at least throw on the bumper sticker that lets people know they bought it before we all knew Elon was nuttier than a truck stop glory hole. But a Cybertruck driver will buy this because Elon is crazy. They like seeing representation for oppositional defiant disorder. It makes them feel seen. You can play music through speakers on the outside of the car. The horn sounds like a glitch. Look at me. I am ruining everybody's day by being careless and loud. Like an upstairs neighbor with a downstairs sex life, I am driving an OSHA violation with a 72-month lease. Tesla Cybertruck, I wanted a truck, but I also want people to know I take calls on speaker phone in public. The Cybertruck is a three-dimensional rage comic with resale value that's sinking faster than a bath bomb in a tub full of e-girl bathwater. And it's leaving all the Musketeers holding the bag, a bag they just fumbled. Because I can think of no bigger waste of money from factory than this. I was about to do a big history time segment, but what can I say about the Cybertruck that hasn't already been said about Franklin's Northwest Passage? A poorly planned shortcut to a poorly defined future, that was riddled with delays and terrible visibility, that left all the true believers worse off in the end. Except the Northwest Passage at least got a great Canadian folk song out of it. What great art even could? If the Cybertruck was an art project, it would be a blank piece of Bristol board with the words, my dad is on the school board and handed into the art teacher. And the art teacher would have no choice but to give him an A. I don't care about the history of this truck. I don't care about its design and conception and you shouldn't either, because Tesla doesn't care about the history of this truck. And Tesla doesn't care about you. Tesla doesn't care about the customers. Its history is trying to pretend it never had one, that it came out as a fully formed market disrupting rage bait, and not a rolling recall museum of panel gaps and loose trim pieces. Put me in a stainless steel bathroom stall in Terminal C at PHL with an iPad and a lease and it's the same experience. Cybertruck has the same try-me energy as a military washout whose favorite pastime is threatening civilians. We spent years asking for automakers to have any original thought whatsoever when it came to design, so we should like this. We should like it on principle because it satisfies the demand for something different. But when we challenged automakers to be different, it was a challenge within the limits of practicality. Typically, cars adapt to the driver and to the shifting conditions of modern roads. But the Cybertruck demands that you be the one to adapt. Contort your body into this unforgiving cage. And I guess that's appealing for some, who feel like modern life has gotten away from the curated experiences intended to be received in a very specific way. Modern life does have a lot more customization than we realize, from what we watch to how we watch it, what we listen to and how we engage with the products that fill our lives. And that extends to the cars we drive every day. The Cybertruck allows for customization, sure, but you're fitting yourself into its framework, not the other way around. Like few cars before, the Cybertruck demands the death of your identity. You're no longer Paul the heart surgeon from Scranton. You're Paul who drives a Cybertruck, and maybe not even Paul. You're just guy who drives a Cybertruck. That's who you are now. That's who people see if they're not too busy rolling their eyes. And some people push back by steering into the skid. They'll throw on purple camo wrap, put on ridiculous graphics to cover up the flex of rust. Because volume is what this truck offers. It's a speaker hooked up to an amplifier, hooked up to a neglected toddler. And I could forgive it all if it were actually good. But it isn't. At best, it's thoroughly mid. And at worst, it's a car that hates having to let you participate. The Cybertruck is the older sibling heading to the mall, and mom just told you he has to take you with him. This truck doesn't want you here, and I can feel that resentment poisoning whatever experiences here that might have been worth having. So yes, I hate this truck because of what it represents. But I also hate it because it sucks.