Auto Industry's Fastest Processor Is 128Mhz
afabbro writes "GM stated that the 2011 Buick Regal will have the auto industry's fastest processor: 128Mhz, and 3MB of flash. 'Three meg of flash memory and 128MHz clock speed doesn't sound like a lot in terms of computing power until you consider the environment these controllers have to live in. Our controllers are made to operate reliably up to 260 degrees (127C) and down to -40 degrees (-40C) for the life of the vehicle.'"
It's a special use, being more like a very powerful microcontroller, it only needs so much power, and it has to last. While the average life of a car is nearly 10 years, it's not so terribly uncommon to keep a car going for almost 20 years, in contrast very few 20 year old PCs are still in regular use, I think a lot of people would be very hard pressed to find a ten year old computer being used daily, and PCs don't have to worry much about environmental factors.
If the system is flex-fuel, it has to be able to take any range from 0% (occasional exemption from ethanol) to 85% ethanol. There is no control over what what the next tank will have, and you'll have some residual, making your ratio almost constantly varying.
I thought most of ethanol's benefits were pretty reasonably debunked, at least corn ethanol anyway.
His 1952 MG also crumples up like a soda can in an accident, whereas your Corolla is stuffed to the gills with crumple zones, traction-control gizmos, and eight thousand-odd computer-controlled airbags. On the other hand, it also weighs twice as much as the MG and handles like it, so good luck avoiding an accident that he could.
On the bright side, you probably don't have to keep a fire extinguisher in your car to put out the daily wiring harness fires.
Summarising, a modern turbodiesel is inherently about 25% more efficient than an equally modern gasoline engine. With old and crude designs like, say, carb hemi V8s, the Diesel has more like a 2:1 advantage. The remaining 5% comes from the fuel.
Sheesh, kids today. Get off my lawn.
From scarped cliff or quarried stone she cries "A thousand types are gone, I care for nothing, no not one."