How does John Andretti parked at the start/finish line not constitute debris?

A week ago (or was it the week before?), it was a beer cup, or a foam seat cushion, or some other form of armor-piercing projectile, so justifiably a caution was thrown. This week a gen-u-ine, two-time Winston Cup race winner was performing his best bulls-eye impression, and NACAR let 'em race.

Color me confused. (I mean, I can understand letting them race to the finish if Scott "The Antonym" Speed is sitting there, but an Andretti? Sacrilege.)

The only thing consistent about NASCAR right now is the 48 team, who is consistently - and nauseatingly - great. (Actually, that's selling them short. Their domination is absolute. They are de-pantsing the competition, currently.) Yeah, that's not entirely accurate. The only things consistent about NASCAR lately have been the 48 team (consistently consistent), Junior (consistently unlucky and, one presumes given his sad fortune lately, drunk), Michael Waltrip (consistently, one gathers from reading his police reports, just under drunk), and NASCAR itself (consistently inconsistent).

This - specifically - is what's driving me crazy about NASCAR right now.

And the phantom debris caution (and occasional real, human debris non-caution) is the most ordinary and observable example. And don't tell me that an empty beer can on the back stretch is a threat to the safety of the drivers.

A) The windshields are polycarbonate resin thermoplastic. The same material used for the cockpit canopy of a F-22 Raptor.

B) I watched Carl Edwards get hit by a flying catch fence (yeah, he was doing the flying, but it sounds better that way) and distinctly remember him jogging across the finish line.

C) College kids smash empty beer cans off their foreheads as a mating ritual.

NASCAR, under dubious assertions at times, exerts its will when it feels so inclined.

I suppose, as a fan, I should feel some sort of rebellious gratitude. They aren't doing it for themselves. They are doing it for me. NASCAR is always trying to improve the product, and I do not know of another sporting authority that blatantly attempts to improve the finish of an event - during the actual event - for my enjoyment. But the fact that they do it isn't what bugs me. It's the consistency, or inconsistency, by which they do it.

It's hard to play the game when the rules are constantly changing. It's also hard to follow the game when the rules are constantly changing. And well beyond the phantom debris caution, they are simply screwing with it too much.

The cries I hear most are demanding even more change. Points for qualifying, points for wins, points for the regular season, minus points for wrecking a Chase contender (okay, not quite, but I'm sure they've thought about it), and most loudly, change the CoT. I disagree.

I'm not ecstatic with the Chase or the CoT, but I also don't have any idea of what they can be. (I'm also a Gordon fan, and so constitutionally bound to despise both the Chase and the CoT for denying him his fifth, respectively). They don't let me look at any one iteration long enough to witness the potential. They've introduced too many variables, and thus far, let none of them mature.

In an effort to improve the product, they've allowed the product to rule themselves (the Chase format produced their annual tinkering with it). In their effort to make it something for everyone, they've made it nothing to some (California produced boring racing to the North Wilkesboro die-hard). In their effort to unify, they've lost their uniformity (the CoT enhanced Hendrick domination).

I suppose I'd just like NASCAR to let them race under the same set of rules for a while. Of course, if Martinsville hadn't reminded me how much I miss the mad sprint to the start/finish following a caution, I probably wouldn't be disturbed by any of this.

Related: Carl Edwards, Michael Waltrip