Funny cars aren't so funny any more. Drag racing was once a marvelous visual feast until corporate sponsorship strangled the last breath of individuality out of the sport. Dragstrips were choked with kandy koated beasts, cackling impatiently, ready to unleash their fury in a frenzied exhibition of smoke and fire, like maniacal fibreglass dragons.The cars had names as exciting as the show itself. Pandemonium, Rambunctious, Malfunction, Assasination, Brutus, Trojan Horse, Pure Hell, The Melrose Missile, Speed Freak, Mental Cruelty and the list goes on. Drivers were individuals with names to match. The Snake, The Mongoose, The Flying Dutchman, Mr Norm and The Hawaiian all vied for the winner's cheque. It was pure theatre. The spectacle has long since lost its lustre. Today's cars are virtually indistinguishable, their generic body shapes having all the visual appeal of a melted plastic spoon. Metalflake and magnesium have long since departed the dragstrip, driven to extinction by mechanised billboards. Yesterday's nitro trailblazers may not have been as quick as their modern counterparts but they looked a hell of a lot better burning down the strip.