Tag Archives: Porsche

Thieves Make a Clean Getaway With Ferrari and $1.4M Porsche

If you’ve ever wondered how long it takes to steal nearly eight figures’ worth of dream cars, the answer—apparently—is less time than it takes to brew a decent cup of coffee.

Early Sunday morning, a Canadian car dealership was relieved of eight high-end vehicles in a theft that reportedly lasted between eight and ten minutes. No tow trucks, no elaborate Mission: Impossible choreography. Just a crowbar, a box of keys, and enough confidence to walk out with a Ferrari 812 GTS, a Porsche 911 GT3, two Mercedes-Benz S580s, and two BMW M4s.

According to footage released by Global News, the operation looked less like a smash-and-grab and more like a grimly efficient pit stop. Roughly a dozen thieves, all dressed in black and wearing masks, smashed through the dealership’s glass doors at around 3:35 a.m. Once inside, they went straight for a wall-mounted lockbox containing the keys to every vehicle on the lot. A crowbar made short work of it.

From there, the group calmly rearranged furniture to clear an exit path, fired up the engines, and drove off—one by one—in some of the most desirable performance cars money can buy.

It took another four hours before anyone noticed.

The list of stolen cars reads like the lineup at an enthusiast fantasy draft. The Ferrari 812 GTS alone packs a naturally aspirated V-12 producing 789 horsepower, while the Porsche 911 GT3—arguably the most track-focused road car Porsche sells—carries an estimated value of around $1.4 million. That GT3, notably, remains missing.

Four of the stolen vehicles have since been recovered, and one suspect has been arrested. Another thief reportedly left a trail of blood at the scene, suggesting that not everything went entirely according to plan. Still, as far as high-speed automotive crime goes, this one was alarmingly smooth.

What makes the story unsettling isn’t just the value of the cars, but how easily they were taken. No hacking of encrypted ECUs. No relay attacks on keyless entry systems. Just a physical lockbox full of keys, waiting behind glass doors. It’s a reminder that while modern cars are rolling fortresses of software and sensors, the weakest link is often still a piece of hardware bolted to a wall.

The Porsche’s disappearance is particularly painful. GT3s aren’t just expensive—they’re sacred objects in enthusiast culture, engineered with obsessive focus and often spec’d by owners who waited years for an allocation. Seeing one vanish into the criminal ether is the kind of thing that keeps collectors awake at night.

Dealerships, meanwhile, are left with an uncomfortable takeaway: it doesn’t matter how advanced the cars are if the keys are easier to steal than the vehicles themselves.

As for the missing GT3, there’s a good chance it’s already been shipped overseas, stripped for parts, or hidden away in a warehouse where its flat-six will never see a redline again. For enthusiasts, that may be the real tragedy—not the money, but the loss of a machine built to be driven, reduced to a line item in a police report.

Eight minutes. Eight cars. And one Porsche that, for now, has disappeared without a trace.

Source: Global News via YouTube

This Porsche-Designed TV Is Less Screen, More Statement

Ever looked at your impeccably thin Samsung or Sony and thought, Sure, it’s nice—but why doesn’t it dramatically rise from the floor like a sci-fi obelisk and unfold itself with cinematic flair? No? Well, someone at C-Seed clearly did. And then they called Porsche Design to make it look properly expensive.

The result is the C-Seed folding TV, a piece of home entertainment hardware that behaves less like a television and more like a concept car that somehow escaped an auto show turntable. It’s excessive, theatrical, and unapologetically overengineered—and in a way that would feel right at home in the pages of a Car and Driver road test.

There’s just one small issue. Actually, three. The price. This thing costs more than three brand-new Porsche 911 Carreras combined. For reference, a base 911 Carrera starts at $135,500. Do the math, take a breath, and then read on.

The C-Seed lineup consists of two main models, the N1 and M1, available for indoor and outdoor use. When powered down, the display lies horizontally, disguised as a sleek, minimalist cabinet. It looks less like consumer electronics and more like a high-end architectural feature—something you’d assume is hiding climate controls for a Bond villain’s lair.

Press a button, however, and the show begins. The screen rotates upright, pauses for dramatic effect, and then unfolds panel by panel. Five microLED panels for the indoor version, seven for the outdoor setup. It’s part Transformer, part Broadway curtain call. If you’re going to watch the Super Bowl, it might as well feel like an event.

Once fully deployed, the display promises eye-watering color saturation and up to 1,000 nits of brightness. That’s enough punch to make HDR content pop whether you’re inside a penthouse or lounging poolside in Monaco. And unlike most luxury TVs that assume you’ll immediately bolt on a sound system the size of a refrigerator, C-Seed actually thought about audio.

Each screen comes with a built-in, full-range sound system designed to fill the space without requiring an aftermarket soundbar or a spiderweb of speakers. It’s clean, integrated, and refreshingly free of plastic boxes pretending to be “cinematic.”

The outdoor version turns the absurdity up another notch. It can be optioned with a taller column, a six-speaker audio setup, and—because why not?—the ability to fold completely underground when not in use. Yes, underground. As in, your TV disappears into the earth like a missile silo closing up after launch.

Size options are equally unhinged. Indoor models are offered in 103-inch, 137-inch, and 165-inch configurations. And if those sound reasonable to you, congratulations—you’re not the target audience. For those who truly want to flex, there’s a 221-inch version that borders on IMAX territory. Outdoor displays come in 144-inch and 201-inch sizes, plus a special variant designed specifically for superyachts, because apparently even the open ocean isn’t immersive enough anymore.

All of this theatrical engineering and design purity comes with a price tag hovering around $400,000. That’s a lifetime of paychecks for most people, but for the billionaire set, it’s just another indulgence—like a third hypercar or a watch that requires its own insurance policy.

The C-Seed folding TV isn’t about practicality, value, or restraint. It’s about spectacle. It’s the automotive equivalent of a concept car that actually makes production—completely unnecessary, wildly impressive, and guaranteed to turn heads. You don’t buy it because you need a TV. You buy it because you want your living room to feel like the opening scene of a sci-fi epic.

And honestly? If you’re already spending Porsche money on your television, subtlety was never part of the plan.

Source: C SEED

Theon Design Turns the Porsche 964 Into a 426-HP Air-Cooled Weapon

Singer may have written the opening chapter of the modern Porsche restomod story, but the genre has evolved well beyond a one-brand show. Case in point: Theon Design’s latest take on the 964-generation 911, a car that looks politely classic until you realize it packs a better power-to-weight ratio than a modern GT3 RS. Yes, really.

From a distance, this renewed 964 doesn’t scream for attention. The lines are familiar, the stance restrained, the vibe unmistakably air-cooled 911. Look closer—or better yet, drive it—and you discover that subtlety is just camouflage. Underneath the vintage skin lives a deeply reengineered machine built by Theon Design, a UK-based outfit that’s quietly become one of the most serious players in the restomod game.

The heart of the transformation is a new air-cooled 4.0-liter flat-six, and it’s exactly the kind of engine enthusiasts fantasize about at 2 a.m. It makes 426 horsepower at a heady 7,600 rpm and 439 Nm of torque, thanks in part to independent throttle bodies that promise razor-sharp response. Open engine intakes complete the package, ensuring the soundtrack is as unfiltered as the driving experience. If you believe air-cooled engines should be heard, not muted, Theon is clearly on your side.

Power goes to the rear wheels only—because of course it does—through a six-speed manual gearbox. No paddles, no modes, no apologies. To make sure all that power doesn’t turn into expensive tire smoke, Theon fits specially calibrated TracTive semi-active dampers and brakes borrowed from the 993-generation 911 Carrera RS. The result is a chassis that blends old-school feedback with modern control. Period-correct 17-inch Fuchs wheels fill the arches, wrapped in Michelin rubber that quietly hints this car is meant to be driven hard, not parked under velvet ropes.

The build process itself is obsessive in the best possible way. The donor 964 is stripped to its bones, the chassis reinforced with additional welding, and the steel body panels replaced by lightweight composite parts. Finished in Medium Ivory with contrasting Grand Prix stripes and protected by PPF, the car manages to look both timeless and purpose-built.

All that carbon pays dividends on the scale. Theon’s 964 tips the scales at just 1,150 kilograms, giving it a power-to-weight ratio that eclipses Porsche’s current 911 GT3 RS. That’s an outrageous statistic for something that still looks like it belongs in a 1990s showroom poster.

Inside, the same level of care continues. Carbon-backed Recaro CS seats are trimmed in Tobacco nubuck leather with ivory stitching that mirrors the exterior details. Plastic switchgear is banished, replaced by machined aluminum components that feel substantial and mechanical—exactly how a 911’s controls should feel. The rear seats are gone, swapped for a carbon-fiber storage compartment, while a Focal six-speaker system with an Audison amplifier handles audio duties for the rare moments when you’re not listening to that flat-six howl.

None of this comes cheap. Prices for one-off commissions like this start at £420,000 (about €484,250), and each build takes roughly 18 months. But in the rarefied world of high-end restomods, that price isn’t just for parts or performance—it’s for patience, craftsmanship, and the idea that a classic 911 can still move the goalposts.

Singer may have started the conversation. Theon is making sure it doesn’t end there.

Source: Theon Design