At Eighteen-hundred revolutions per minute: this isnt music. This is the scream of science. This is the inner world of pneumatic valve spring, of mean effective pressure. 300 break horsepower per liter of displacement. The quest for the perfect four stroke V8 naturally aspirated reciprocating engine. And in the middle of the whole mettle, the carbon, the alloy technology, sits flesh and blood. Rising out of its carbon fiber monocoque sits the coolest head. These are the eyes that can pick out a face in the crowd as if motion where being slowed down, not passing at a blur at 200 miles per hour. This is the pure mathematics of angles and aerodynamics. The physics of G-forces and friction, and the raw instinct to race. These are the masters of speed. This, is Formula1.