“WTF is a sympos-- symphonic-- arachnid…?”
The word “symposium” nowadays refers to professional conferences of sorts, but its literal and original meaning in Greek is “drinking together”, and refers to a particular institution in ancient Greece: a post-dinner drinking party that was meant to be a mix of revelry and discussion. A drinking conference, if you will.
The Symposiarch was the leader of the Symposium, deciding what was to be drunk and how strong, what the discussion themes were to be among the symposiasts (attendees), and so on.
What do you do if you want to enjoy the carefree open-air cruising in inimitable Gallic style of a Renwoo Merci, but are burdened with things like friends, legs, friends with legs, standards, friends with standards, or worse, all of the above? Merci beaucoup? De rien! We take a Merci, and… -evil mustache-twisting honhonhon laughter-… modify it.
Mercilessly (if you’ll pardon the expression) drawn and quartered, it shall be! Or- er… the other way around: quartered and drawn. Stretched and widened, the space between the quarters filled in with sheetmetal and various weld/brace/rivet/ducttape contraptioneering, the result now actually has room for four. Of course, you can’t just throw a high-quality handmade interior into any old tub and call it a luxury car, so we dressed up the outside to match.
On the way to your symposium, relax as the butter-smooth, whisper-quiet turbo flat-6 propels this living room on wheels, riding on a well-tuned double-wishbone/multilink hydropneumatic suspension.
If you need entertainment, there’s a modern infotainment screen discreetly hidden in the dash, controlled by a whatchamacallit in the front armrest.
When the screen is hidden, a Vanden Weelderigplas clock is there for you to not mind too much.
Once you’ve arrived, deploy the Symposiarch - open up the roof, turn the front seats around, pop open the refrigerator in the center console, and enjoy your time.
Beverages are included. De Rien! [“you’re welcome!”]
