Could there be a car less "today" than the Dodge Viper? Of any vehicle found on a production lot, this two-door, two-seater is the most throwback; the most analog. It will never be associated with any semi-autonomous driving feature, it will never have a digital screen the size of a Tesla’s, and you won’t be able to summon it from your garage via an iPhone.

It is resolutely of an age. And, arguably, that age has passed. It is still built by hand in the Conner Avenue assembly plant in Detroit, and it shares no common architecture with any other Fiat Chrysler model. The company has indicated that production will end in 2017. Part of that is an issue with federally mandated side airbags, which the frame won’t easily accommodate. But the bigger reason is the sales, which are lousy.

The Viper first went on sale in 1992, and since that point it’s been updated and restyled at various points. It was even discontinued in 2010 after Chrysler’s bankruptcy, before coming back in 2012 with a price tag of some $150,000. This time around, buyers stayed away in droves. Production was stopped for a time so the cars wouldn’t sit on lots, and the prices were reduced. Today you can buy one for as little as $90,000.

Maybe that’s because it came out around the same time as the C7 Corvette, a car with similar brunt but enough modernity to entice a younger buyer. You can drive the latest Vette around city traffic all day long, and then dial in the kind of tail-slinging performance worthy of a Fast & Furious movie. Motor around city traffic in the Viper and it’ll simply leave you furious.

This is The Harper Spin, a weekly column from seasoned auto critic Jason H. Harper. He’s raced at Le Mans, crushed a car in a 50-ton tank, and now, he’s bringing his unique style to The Verge.

I spent hours in a Viper in rush hour Los Angeles traffic one time. The car’s six-speed manual transmission shifts like a tractor — an old one — and I briefly considered abandoning the car and catching a bus. I doubt anyone would have stolen it, because I figure few thieves know how to drive a manual. The car has stayed amazingly true to its roots. Consider that it was partly the brainchild of then-Chrysler executive Bob Lutz, the ultimate car guy, who thought the company needed something akin to the AC Cobra — a bare-bones racecar known for its lack of a roof, huge engine, and ability to terrify drivers. Voila! The Viper was born. The powertrain is a throwback, and the power it delivers still terrifies It was shown at the Detroit Auto Show in 1989, and in most significant ways the ethos of that car remains true today. To put that in cultural perspective, it was shown the same year that The Simpsons was first released, Neil Patrick Harris was only known as Doogie Howser, and Guns N’ Roses were still on the charts with "Paradise City." So perhaps it’s not such a surprise that it simply doesn't feel as relevant. The powertrain is a throwback — a 8.4-liter V-10 for crissakes — and the power it delivers (645 horsepower and 600 pound-feet of torque) still terrifies. You can special order it with racing stripes, but you can’t get an automatic transmission. But you know what? I’ve had some great times in a Viper. Once I got out of Los Angeles that time and made it well south, I whipped around deserted mountain roads. I’ve taken Vipers to race tracks and drove them lap after lap after lap, ignoring a Ferrari and a Corvette and an Audi R8 and various BMWs and Cadillacs. Because the Viper does exactly what you tell it to do. It won’t choose a gear for you; it doesn't interpret the angle of the steering wheel and then use an advanced digital algorithm to deduce how much you want to turn. It relies on huge tires with lots of grip, big Brembo brakes, and your own good sense (or lack thereof) to deliver racecar-like performance. And so it’s of little surprise that the best place for the Viper is the race track. So, on my recent farewell drive of the car, I took a bright yellow $113,390-as-driven GTC model from New York City to upstate New York, and the Monticello Motor Club — my home away from home. I was reminded of several things. First, the car really doesn't like donuts. It has lots of power, but too much grip. And it isn’t easy to slide around, either. I tried to play to video cameras, and it was a bit hairy. I managed to half-spin once. But it is really fun. Fun in the same sense that The Simpsons used to be. As much fun as screaming along to "Paradise City" or "Sweet Child O’ Mine." As fun as remembering what you were doing in your life (assuming you were alive) when Doogie Howser, M.D. was on the air. So, yes, I understand why the car is going away So, yes, I understand why the car is going away. And while I’d never want to drive one every day, I will shed a tear. A small one, that reminds me of my own days past. Meanwhile, I suggest that Fiat Chrysler look to the future and the cars that younger drivers — both those who want a self-driving car and those who like to drive themselves — will really want. The good news is that over its lifetime, more than 30,000 Vipers have been made, so there’s able opportunity to buy a used one when the production line shuts down for good. Photography: James Bareham Video: Phil Esposito and Max Jeffrey Sound: Andrew Marino