An internal combustion motorcycle is alive; it breathes, for goodness sake. You can sympathize with the mechanics and operations of a gas bike. You can see and feel its internals working. You hear its pain when it ails and you feel it thrive through all your senses when it's well.
In the cold, a gas bike is a source of heat - a relief at red lights. Its radiant warmth is a fireplace helping you finish that last mile when your fingertips are frost bitten.
Gas bikes are selfish. They insist on letting you know they are there. They demand to be a significant part of the experience, beyond forward motion and handling.