Fat Tires & Cryptic Serial Numbers

Here's a wide-angle shot of the car with its new 275-60R15 Super Shops bias-ply tires mounted on swap-meet universal-fit steel van wheels.  Note the stock (now-black-painted) front wheels and skinny tires and the "2 CNS 716" stenciled on the front door.  The serial numbers were in keeping with my bullshit-the-Art-Dept. plan to get enough units (for my claim that this was a "mixed-media mobile installation piece") to finish a BA without actually having to set foot in a classroom for my last year at UCI.  I cited the work of my fellow Anteater, performance artist Chris Burden, and the writings of the French Heavy Thinker, Jacques Derrida (who was at this time living in a swinish UCI-owned mansion overlooking the squalid trailerr park in which I and the Impala lived; I liked to think that Jacques had to keep all the blinds closed on the trailer-park side of his house in order to avoid the Wrong and Ugly sights there, preferring instead to look at the boundless and inspiring expanse of the Pacific visible from the other side) when explaining the concept.  The serial numbers were, as I recall, supposed to suggest the Offical Vehicle (police car, phone-company vehicle, and so on) which was one of the three American Automotive Archetypes the "piece" was "referencing."  The main effect they had was to make people think I had bought the car as Navy surplus.  Over the years, the numbers faded under repeated applications of more primer, and are no longer visible today.