Jace to Face

A couple of years ago, Top Gear reviewed the Noble M15. Like the handful of the breed that had come before it, the M15 won the approval of the show's hosts. As I hadn't been previously aware of any company called Noble producing any sort of car, the M15 handled the introduction - and it won me over too.

If you haven't heard of Noble, it's probably a good thing. You're not a car nerd, and you may well be a better person for it. They're a tiny manufacturer of religiously simple, focused sports cars. They don't do pretty or luxury or electronic wizardry, but they are master practitioners of fast.

After watching the M15 dance around the Top Gear test track, I forgot about Noble for a year. A few months ago I watched Richard Hammond's power test again, and it rekindled my interest in the brand. Weirdly, I couldn't find information about any sort of M15 production run. I just saw whispers of some new Noble in development testing - the M600, out in the Mojave with a Carrera GT for a playmate. Confounded, I did some more digging. It turns out the M15 never actually made production. Noble decided it wasn't fast enough, so they took it back and dialed the whole project up to eleven. The M600 is the result.

Noble revealed the new car a month ago, and the automotive press have since been effervescent in their praise of it, lauding its blistering speed, crisp handling, and composed ride. The M600, as it turns out, doesn't play with Carrera GTs. It spanks them and sends them back to Zuffenhausen weeping. It's an amazing achievement for a company as small as Noble, but it comes at a cost. 200,000 GBP, which converted is about a million billion U.S. dollars. And being a Noble, it's not svelte or sexy, so it won't seduce the money from anyone's pocket. The M600's success rather rides on two sorts of customer, with the obvious prerequisite being considerable wealth. They are: the speed freak and the pure-hearted car lover. The first will be drunk with lust at lap times and zero-to-sixty sprints. The latter though...I fear that these are a dying breed. The M600 forgoes ABS or satellite navigation, full leather interiors or airbags. It does without a fancy badge and name-brand prestige. Like the Carrera GT, it will endlessly frustrate poseurs because it fails to flatter the butterfingered showoffs when road and track get twisty. The uber-Porsche can still sit in the garage and impress with its supermodel looks and badge, but the Noble won't work here. You'd really have to love the car for its bare essence to appreciate a Noble. Indeed they make a habit of churning out cars that are this essence, distilled. Moreover, with the M600 costing as much as a government bailout, you'd have to harbor a deep-rooted hatred of the established brands for selling out to moneyed fools.

I love the Noble M600. Its well-sorted ride means it's both comfortable and agile, so it wouldn't spend any time in my garage - just out on whatever road fits my fancy. Its twin-turbocharged V8 and lean curb weight mean nobody will see it for long enough to consider its badge or looks. As an interpretation of the sports car's essence, it's incredibly successful, and I desperately hope that it finds enough takers, both speed freak and true car lover, to succeed financially...because the world needs more cars like Nobles.

DON'T SELL VOLVO TO THE CHINESE!

Thank you. That is all.

I think the last-generation BMW 5 series sedan was one of the best looking cars of all time. It isn't pretty, isn't sexy; it's 1000% handsome - every line just right. I have less positive things to say about the current 5. It's ugly. Only its proportions are correct; everything else sucks. Even the M5 is a piss poor thing to behold.


Right on the horizon though, there's a new 5er coming. Based on a shortened 7-series platform, the new 5 promises to undo the wayward curves imposed by ex design chief Chris Bangle and impose more reason and order on the mid-range Bimmer. It will be - I promise - better, even if marginally. Despite having talked about the new car's looks like I know what I'm on about, any information about the design isn't really concrete. Unless you're on the inside, all we know is what spy pictures of pre-production models indicate and what the odd loose-lipped executive has let slip. And one more thing. A future 5 has already debuted, a newbie in the model range called the 5 series GT. It's BMW's effort at a crossover that is two parts coupe and one part SUV (or, in BMW speak, SAV for Sports Activity Vehicle...), and it's a controversial thing, especially for the American market. Ignoring the strange proportions, the basic design theme for the GT, both inside and out, is an encouraging hint for the more traditional sedan and wagon debuting next year. Those proportions, though...



I love a good hatchback. Unlike most of my fellow countrymen, I like the way a good, aggressive hot hatch looks. I love the practicality. I love the equal measure of committment toward serious and fun. I even love a wagon every now and again (the XC70 and Subaru Legacy are fine-looking things and are eager to play ball with even the most outdoorsy among us). This new BMW though - I'm not sure what to think. I gagged initially and thought it looked awful. Now, though, I'm not so sure. If I'm ever looking to buy a 5 series - and one day I might well be - I wonder if I'd roll out of Global Imports BMW in one of these.

It's certainly the most controversial car of the moment. The $400,000 Lexus LF-A supercar. Appeared as a concept many years ago, then again, and yet again with moderate stylistic alterations. Now, it's a production reality. Five-hundred examples.


It's not what I thought it would be. I saw that it had showed up at Tokyo, and I was immediately consumed in a nervous panic - years of built-up anticipation felt in full force. This subsided immediately when I saw the pictures of the production model, giving way to confusion and some disappointment. The real LF-A is much less graceful than the concept and much uglier. It's also much more expensive than predicted, by nearly a factor of two. I didn't expect these things. Nor did I expect it to be as racy as it is. The V10, developed with Yamaha, has an astonishing 9,000 rpm redline, and long before the needle hits the big 9, the car is spewing fantastically loud and brutal noises from under the hood and out the back. It's not all noise, either. It's zero to sixty in 3.7 seconds and is claimed to round the 'Ring in 7:24, a second faster than the Ferrari Enzo.

So it's $400,000 fast. (GT-R fanatics can talk to me when Nissan fits it with a transmission that doesn't explode and a Launch Control that doesn't invalidate the warranty). It's $400,000 exclusive. But it isn't $400,000 beautiful...or sexy...or brutal. It looks like a Supra grew up a bit. It's lost those kickass taillights from the concept and any finesse that may have graced the front end. Really, the only aesthetic compliments I have go for the interior, which is spectacular, and the side scoop at the window line that comes straight from the concept. The triple exhaust configuration is cool too. Ultimately though, the styling is a terrible letdown. As impressive as the LF-A's numbers and vocalizations are, the absence of art in the execution may prove damning. I don't doubt the production run will sell. Five-hundred rich people would buy a piece of poo at half a million dollars each if Porsche sold it. I just doubt that the racy Lexus will end up occupying sacred space among the automotive greats, and it's a real pity that it may have missed it by a margin so tiny as its appearance, especially when the concepts showed so much promise. It's doubly tragic because it's high time a Japanese manufacturer made a wholehearted attempt at this exclusive club, and Lexus is really the only reasonable contender.

There is some silver lining, though; some good news. The LF-A seems to be, on the whole, excellent so long as you don't actually look at the outside. This is the first production evidence since the Lexus IS-F and the most compelling indicator so far that Toyota is serious about putting some balls back in their cars. And this is good news because Toyota is enormous and influential, and the world will be a better place if Toyota can hit the sweet spot among build quality, greenness, good value, excitement, and sex appeal. For my part, I hope they find it.

This is another supercar post (two in a row, in fact) following my angry rant against their kind. Yes, I still think dumping four-hundred grand on a car is ridiculous. But I'll be honest: I like the LF-A. I'm somehow more impressed by it than disappointed. Weird, I know, and hardly explicable. On that bombshell...

For anyone who follows cars much (or Top Gear), this car will already be familiar to you:

Otherwise, you're probably just now meeting the Gumpert Apollo for the first time. Hello, how d'ya do, etc. You're thinking it, I know. It looks like a huge turd! Yes, and it's a colossally expensive one, starting at about $450,680 at the current EUR to USD conversion rate. Fortunately, it's also a very fast one. The Gumpert may look a bit daft, but it's got legs. It sits atop the Top Gear Power Board and recently lapped the Nurburgring's Nordeschleife in 7:11:57. For the unlearned, this is either the record for a production car or very close to it. It's beyond fast. For comparison's sake, the Ferrari Enzo does a 7:25, the Porsche Carrera GT a 7:28. If you're a Bugatti Veyron fan, that does a 7:40. This is fairly astonishing considering Gumpert is a miniscule company next to these hypercar powerhouses. The man behind it all used to be an engineer at Audi, and it's their excellent 4.2 liter V8 that sits in the Apollo. Admittedly, they skimped on the styling and creature comforts for the interior, but I'm not actually convinced it looks all that bad. Actually, I don't think the Enzo looks all that good, nor the Veyron.

This all comes hot off the heels of my rant against supercars, which is fine. I blame ADHD. Fact is, I love the ugly duckling Dumpert. If I squint, it's almost handsome, so it's not too much of a stretch to imagine that I might think it attractive after I've had a bit to drink. It's raw and noisy - too rough and obscene for poseurs, too brutal for amateurs. If I had to buy or be shot, it's the supercar I'd choose.

Let me preface this by saying that I love cars. I'm a fan, as in fanatic. I'm obsessed. I would sooner spend a wild night with a good car than Kate Beckinsale. This will be relevant a few paragraphs down.

Automotive shouty man Jeremy Clarkson recently blogged on supercars. You can read his thoughts here.

For the most part, I agree with Clarkson on this front. I'm glad supercars exist. They are an assault to the ears, a feast for the eyes, and a riot to drive. I must be clear: they're rarely good cars, but the greatest of them maintain a level of stupidity and ridiculousness that make them legendary. I found further common ground with J.C. when he says that the Audi R8 is probably the lone vehicle sitting at the intersection of good car and supercar. It's the only one that does damn near everything you could ask of a road car...and does it well.

So I'm glad we have supercars to ogle at, to fondle, to lust over, but I really can't see the point of owning one. In fact, I'll take a more aggressive position and admit I'll judge any supercar owner...and not favorably. What owners of these cars have done is spend generally in wild excess of a hundred thousand dollars on a car. Lamborghini Reventon owners have spent $1.6 million for their exotic blend of carbon fiber, aluminum, and gasoline. Aston Martin One-77 owners have spent at least $1.7 million on each example of that piece. It's worse than stupid. It's approaching shameful.

Starting with stupid: men who buy supercars are generally thinking with their penis instead of their brains. A Ferrari Enzo cannot perform better on a public road than a $30 thousand Golf R32. In fact, it'll probably do worse. Show an Enzo a speed bump and you'll see that zero-to-sixty times are irrelevant in the real world. Same is true of potholes. Roll a Lamborghini down tenth street here in Atlanta. You'd dislocate every joint in your body and every body panel on the car. And don't bitch to me about fun-to-drive factor. I'd have at least as much fun in a Focus RS because I'm happy with the size of my manhood and don't need to compensate by having people worship my car. Also, at $30k I could replace my whole car for cheaper than it'd cost Lamborghini man to replace those missing body panels. The Focus RS is a good car...a total package. It's a quarter the price of an R8 and just about as good.

Now it gets intense:

Your stereotypical Republican will forever say that people with money should be able to spend their hard-earned greenbacks however they like. From a governmental standpoint, I more or less agree; I don't think Uncle Sam should get too involved on that front. In every other respect though, a man's attitude toward money speaks volumes about his character. What he spends his money on - or more inclusively, puts his money toward - is enormously important. A $150,000 R8? A $1.2 million Bugatti Veyron? This is clearly the property of an individual purposefully ignorant of reality - intentionally blind to the human condition and by extension, willfully disrespectful toward the Divine. The Las Vegas Strip, Buckhead, Monaco...these little dream worlds with their ritzy venues and endless exotic cars...the rest of planet Earth doesn't look, sound, or feel like these. The people that put their money towards keeping their personal fantasy lands rolling? Helluva shame.

As a hybrid, absolutely not. I'm staunchly opposed to those things. With an ordinary gasoline or diesel powertrain, hellz yeah!

Again, sold today in the U.S. of A. In increasing order of price, they're:

1. Honda Civic EX Sedan
   
2. Mini Cooper S
   
3. Subaru Legacy GT
4. Mercedes GLK 350 4matic
   
5. BMW 135i
   
6. Ford F-150 SVT Raptor (no, it's not a fighter jet)
   
7. Mustang Shelby GT

Some cars didn't make it for relatively obscure reasons. If you were wondering:

The GTI? New one in less than a year. Mustang V6 and GT? Engines are useless; new ones in less than a year. Camaro? I'm a Mustang man. Mazdaspeed 3? I really want the GTI or upcoming R20, and I'd cry every time I pulled up next to one. Subaru Impreza WRX STI? Same as Mazdaspeed 3 and too ugly. M3? I know it's a bargain for the masterpiece it is, but it's still too expensive. 911? It's a Porsche, and I'm not touching them with a ten-foot pole while the company is in the state it's in.

Here's my top 10 cars of all types currently sold in the United States and in very loose descending order. These aren't all cars I'd actually buy or put a penny toward - that's a very different list. Here goes:

1. BMW M3 Sedan - It's cliche, but it's a performance benchmark that'll accommodate daily life. Well, it'll corner fast enough to turn back seat passengers into mush, but for the driver and whoever's shotgun, I think it's the best sedan on earth.
2. Mini Cooper S - The definitive pocket rocket. Fast, efficient, and eminently parkable.
3. Porsche 911 GT3 RS - A brute with class and pedigree, the GT3 is the only 911 that matters. And how it matters! Honestly, I'd buy the RS for the wing, red rims, and decals. The rest of the car is a nice added bonus.
4. Ford Mustang Shelby GT500 - An adrenaline pump with honest, down-to-earth roots. The best American muscle car. Seriously, get it for the stripes and the way it screams "badass."
5. Audi R8 V10 - Supercar thrills with none of the drawbacks. A bold design statement and epitome of "sweet ride." An "it-car" with staying power.
6. BMW 135i - Premium pocket rocket! Styling aside, it's damn near perfect. Again, will make backseat-ers sick or dead, and it won't help that they will have had to remove their legs to fit.
7. Subaru Legacy GT - The enthusiast's family sedan with controversial styling and a better-than-the-next-guy attitude. BMW? Standard AWD, good interior, and a turbo-boosted four. Audi? Nope. No fancy-pants badge required.
8. Mazda Mazdaspeed 3 - 263 turbocharged horses in a front-drive hatchback at $24k. Absurd. Great.
9. Lamborghini Murcielago LP670-4 SV - Hypercar bargain and last of its breed. A sensual, aggressive package all but gone from the rest of modern car-dom.
   
10. Rolls-Royce Phantom Drophead Coupe - Otherworldly standard of excellence. Pictures don't do it justice. Try to forgive the ridiculous pricetag.

I've spewed endless criticism of Mercedes Benz for years. I attacked their vanilla styling, shoddy build quality, preposterous pricing...even their moneyed and annoyingly cliche consumer base. Everything about the marque had gone down the poopy pipe, and I'd had it with them. There was this irritating sense that the Mercedes folk had given up on making cars for drivers - that this was a company that catered to people who would be chauffeured if at all possible.

But Mercedes has been whispering of late about some soul searching, some re-invention. It's not something they'd mention publicly or shout about. No, they're above admitting having gone astray. Fair enough, but money is monsooning at R&D faster than Flo Rida could shower on a strip club, and build quality is creeping toward acceptable. The styling is still vanilla, but it's gone all chunky - so maybe vanilla with vodka. It's an alkie's car it is. And it's like they've actually listened to my whining because a stick shift is sitting in the base C-class, and they've started condensing their ridiculous, alphabet-soup model lineup. Joy of joys. And marketing's subtle hint at all these changes has come out thus: "This is the new E-class. This is Mercedes-Benz." All they need is Gerard Butler in a skirt, lots of camera filters, copious CG, and "we're rolling." Cue eight-pack Gerard. "THIS...IS......SPAARRR....wait..."

So the E-class, then. Generation nine is the latest and greatest sign of awesome returning to the em bee. All indications are that it's engineered properly for a change. It's definitely bursting at the seams with technology from Star Trek, and it's appropriately zoomy (even with the base V6) so you in your platinum-plated, warp-speed chariot can pass all the mere mortals in their tardy oxcarts on the highway. I even like the way it looks.

And it's ugly. Let's get that established nice and early. Recent Ferraris have been rather too conservative and bland, all coming up considerably short of beautiful. Ferrari once basked in the world's admiration for the wild and sensual aesthetic of its cars as well as for their engineering and success on road and track. It's really just been the last bit of late. I'm not much of a Ferrari fanboy, but I still think this vacuum of bellezza is a tragedy because I acknowledge and feel the marque's considerable presence deep in the essence of everything it means to love cars. The Ferrari F430 is a prime example of all this. It's an amazing, orgasmic piece of engineering. But it's wrapped in a body that deserves, at best, a "pretty." Even the Scuderia's sheetmetal can only get a "mildly badass" descriptor. Unfortunate really since it delivers a hugely badass driving experience.

And now the F430, which set the benchmark in its class, has sold in record numbers and has (for better or worse) come to define the modern Ferrari, is due for replacement. The F430 was at least a technical and sales home run, and stepping up to the plate: the 458 Italia. Nice name. And it'll be an amazing technical achievement, I promise. It uses more exotic materials and more fancy electronic bits than its daddy, and it will boast more power while achieving better fuel economy. And get this; there are even some black plasticky bits in the front air dam that deform beneath the weight of the airflow at high speeds to become more aerodynamic for those conditions. WOW! I'm not joking that bit genuinely turns me on. So it's shaping up to be a great car then. Except for just that: it's shaped up rather poorly. See for yourself:

America has somehow failed to embrace the hot hatchback. Spearheaded five Golf generations ago by the original Volkswagen Golf GTI, the market gradually grew to include offerings from Honda, Ford, Renault, Seat, etc. The idea is: take your average smallish hatchback - replete with all manner of convenience features, technology, and a dollop of practicality - plop a powerful engine in, and make assorted engineering and aesthetic modifications that make it exciting (possibly dangerous). The product is a pocket rocket, a jack of all trades...all things to all men. And to top off the brilliance, proper hot hatches don't break the wallet. They're incredible - the best kind of car there is.

Let me explain. There are more flashy, flamboyant, and extreme cars, and most are hugely expensive. People that can afford them generally want to show off and be oogled by the masses. So they're shallow. Admittedly, some want them for a heightened level of driving excitement. But for the enormous price and considering the limitations of public roads, there's no justification for their purchase. So they're stupid.

The best of the hot hatch breed are fantastically exciting. They're powerful, well-equipped, good-looking, and unique from each other. Consider the VW Golf GTI, a turbocharged and FWD German with reasonable engineering in a reasonable and conservative package. Or consider the GTI-on-steroids Golf R32, which packs a V6 with a mighty wallop, four-wheel drive, and a properly meaty vocal range. Or the new Ford Focus ST with its curvy angle-ness and turbocharged inline-five. Or it's Creatine-chugging sibing, the Focus RS, which throws three-hundred turbo-manaical horses at its front wheels. Or the Honda Civic Type-R or even the watered-down-for-Americans Civic Si, both with screaming, rev happy powerplants and snappy, short-throw gearboxes. And these are just a few. There are so many more. Some genuinely good and some terrible but great.

The excitement is there. As is the attitude, the character, and the pedigree. Only now the cars are also pleasingly practical, prudently priced, properly equipped, and possibly reliable. I'm sold. I'm all for them.

I desperately want to like BMW. They take engineering seriously. They take quality seriously. They take driving dynamics seriously. They take the car seriously. Recently, though, they've tried to be less serious about car aesthetics. They've tried to add flair and panache, sex and candy, but they're German so it's all gone badly wrong. A few years ago, the revamped styling of the 7 and 5 were so controversial that the subsequent 3 committed a worse sin: it's boring looking. Among their most recent efforts, the all-new 7 and Z4 are far better resolved than their predecessors, but inside and out, they're still far off the beautiful bullseye. Somewhere down the BMW model continuum, the new X1 SUV is, inexplicably, appallingly hideous. How can the company that produces the inoffensive, even handsome X5 and X6 have gotten the X1 (and the X3) so badly wrong? How can they make the absurdly expensive and technologically obese 7 so mundane? There is clear, rock-solid evidence that BMW designers are brilliant. Look at this:


Behold, everyone: the BMW Concept CS. It's real. They were going to make it real for people like you and me, but then they decided not to. Explain to me, though, why that isn't the new 7. Why? Not practical enough? Too showcar-ey? Don't care. Not when it looks like that. I would gladly cut off my head to fit in the back so long as the rest of my body can be transported around in a car like the CS. And I think millions of dollars worth of consumers and their wallets would happily concur. So BMW, here's a tip. Hang whoever is coming between your talented design team and us. Then, draw and quarter their carcass. If you produce the CS with the cleverness and quality you're renowned for, I promise you will enjoy the financial reward.

My mom has told me I'm fickle for years. Every time I tell her I like a new car, she has a standard comeback that reminds me that my opinion on the subject has accumulated negative worth over time.

So it bugs the hell out of me that Porsche's ridiculous Panamera four-door monster is beginning to grow on me. First, I blasted it for being ugly. Despite my mother's insistence otherwise, it really is hideous, especially viewed from the side. Then, I blasted Porsche for selling out again and building a car that only rich posers will buy and drive. I slammed them for further solidifying their growing reputation as a vain and petty man's marque. Most recently, I railed on Porsche for having such a poor standard equipment list on a ninety-thousand dollar car. Bluetooth, for example, is standard on cars a third that price. Wake up, Porsche.

Gradually, though, I've felt an increasing tug toward the Panamera. Yes, there's a lot to hate about it. But somehow, there's something strangely lovable about Porsche's new, enormous bastard. It's stupid, but that's the quality that's starting to grow on me. It doesn't hurt that it's stupid fast, especialy in top-line Turbo trim. I've just read reports that it's recently bested the Cadillac CTS-V's seven minute, fifty-nine second lap around the Nurburgring by three seconds. And the Caddy was the fastest four-door production car around that track. I know, CTS fans will counter that the Porsche is twice as expensive. Look, kids: learn how to lose gracefully. When Cadillac grows the brand image and balls to build a one-hundred and thirty thousand dollar sedan that can run with Ferraris, come back and pick a fight. Until then, if I had money, it'd be with the Porsche. Fickle? Yes, but I blame the Panamera.

The recent smattering of large, luxurious four-door cars has abandoned the traditional gauge cluster in favor of a digital representation of a set of analog gauges. This began, as is custom in Cardom, with the Mercedes S-class. BMW's 7-series and Jaguar's new XJ are following suit. I understand the motive: pressure to convey more and increasingly diverse information to the driver in a meaningful and ergonomic fashion. And though I credit these manufacturers for their fairly convincing fake gauges, I'm sad to see the old school technology depart. There is something fantastic about a cleanly machined, artfully simple set of gauges. Like a good timepiece, they convey more than information - they emanate a sense of quality and beauty. So then, this is where technology can let us down; where the endless quest for more and better can take an odd turn and go awry. It's information's efficient delivery and quantity rather than the beauty of its presentation. And the way I see it, it's a tragedy.

The motoring icons at Top Gear have maintained for years that the BMW M3 is for cocks. They're right, but I'm totally convinced the new, four-door M3 is the best sedan in the world. Maybe the best car in the world. I know I'm wrong: it isn't either of those things. I know it puts me perilously close to being a cock. I don't care. If you have $54,850 and are looking for a car, buy one. Ignore all the downsides. You will want to spend the rest of your life in it. And while that doesn't cut it for healthy relationships with women, that's what matters with cars. You'll love it. It's imperative that you get the four-door though. The coupe is really just for friendless, flaming cocks.

Now: Megan Fox. I know she isn't a car, but it doesn't matter. If she were a car though, I read somewhere that ninety percent of men would take her for a spin. Ninety percent! For Megan Fox! And considering three to four percent of men are exclusively attracted to their own sex, that's an astounding statistic. Advertising gurus, why don't I see her everywhere? On every billboard and TV commercial? If you ran an ad campaign with Ms. Fox, it doesn't matter what you're selling. Hemorrhoid cream would suddenly interest ninety percent of half of the population. And women would inevitably be jealous and try to mimic the Fox, so they'd buy it too. Soon enough, vast numbers among the female population would morph into Megan Fox copies. And hemorrhoid cream would outsell Viagra. It's...I wish you could envision the world I've just come up with.

First, I'd just like to get this out of the way. Growing up, bottlenose dolphins were easily my favorite animals. I admired their intelligence and graceful beauty. I had (have) many stuffed toy dolphins. They all have names. We had (have) great conversations in the wee morning hours. But I learned the other day that bottlenose dolphins are, so far as we know, the most bisexual animals on earth. In fact, they're hugely sexual animals to begin with. See, in school they always told us dolphins are cute, fun-loving creatures. They may have even told us that they're among the elite in all creation that do sex for recreation. They didn't mention the dolphin orgies and that girl dolphins weren't invited. And that when dolphins choose life partners, they aren't of the opposite sex. Stunned by my new knowledge, I confronted my toy friends. The guys feigned ignorance. They insisted they were all just good buddies and that was an end of it. I'd let them hang out on my bed! For years! Gross. So I've just changed out the bed. If you ever sleep in our guest room, I'm sorry.

Next, I saw a new Camaro the other day in Buckhead. It was yellow. I got excited...dolphin-style. Okay I restrained myself...a bit. But it's seriously good looking. Although I wasn't expecting it to be enormous. It's huge. Super-tanker huge. And with those windows, driving it would be like piloting a submarine with just the periscope. Only the Camaro is heavier. And more powerful. And yes, it comes with the nukes. But big whoop. Everyone has those now. So it ain't cutting edge, but I like it anyway. Well done, GM. Too bad I'm uber-pissed at you for f-ing up everything for the last three decades.

Oh and on a strictly personal note, if you're interested, my ideal garage would contain: a hydraulic lift, massive toolset (big tool needs big playset), spotlights (highlight my good looks), industrial fan (dramatic hair), air pump (don't ask), sink and running water. Oh, and yes...a Mercedes GLK 350 4matic and a KTM X-bow. And if KTM hasn't released that here, I'll move to where I can get it. Or buy an Exige S 240 instead. Or a 2000 NSX. Or an M3 Sedan. Or a Corvette Z06. Or...damn.

It's official. Chrysler and Fiat are now an item. A pair. Duo. Couple. Normally, hookups either elicit an "aww that's cute!," an "eww that's gross" or a "WTF." This is, decidedly, an opportunity for a collective utterance of the last. Chrysler, which I hear tell was once a great American institution long before I started life, will be "saved" by a union with Fiat. And we're slated to receive some of those Italian wares Stateside as soon as the coming year. If you're thinking this is awesome because Fiat oversees Ferrari, Maserati, and Alfa Romeo, stop. In fact, do me a favor and stop thinking altogether. Fiat primarily builds...you guessed it: Fiats. And those this year earned the incredible and unique distinction of being the least reliable cars offered in the United Kingdom. Dead, bottom, stonkin' last place. I'm entirely convinced that's something you have to try to achieve in a market that includes Peugeots, Citroens, Renaults, Seats, and Volkswagens. Well done then, Fiat. You've done it. So - and I mean this in as nice a way as possible - Dear Italians, please stick to cooking, building great tourist attractions, and lovemaking. Word is that you're good at those things. Keep your cars and leave the engineering up to the rest of us.

If Fiat hadn't invaded, Chrysler would be dead. Well, okay. I would miss the Viper. And they're not keeping that around anyway. So there you go.

EDIT: The Viper is apparently sticking around because Chrysler gave it to Fiat. In other news, the Jeep Panda. Again: "WTF?"

In the wake of rough times for the global car industry, gearheads are left wondering if the transformations in the industry will leave us with a vast sea of dull econoboxes. I think it's somewhere between inevitable and avoidable. Honda, for example, has already axed plans for successors to their performance-oriented S2000 and NSX models, leaving the automaker with a brilliantly efficient lineup primed and ready for fast-approaching deadlines for government limitations on fuel consumption and CO2 emissions. Fair enough, but now the global flagship for Honda is what we here in the U.S. know as the Acura RL. And let's be honest here - it isn't much fun to drive and comes fresh out of the factory looking like it's already been wrecked. Mercedes has brought the Smart stateside, and hordes of idiots have bought them...probably hoping the moniker will fool people. Alas, the Smart is not a car; it's a piece of crap. I've driven one. I know. Tata may bring the godawful Nano here, giving Americans the opportunity to buy glorified garbage for cheaper than the cheapest real car on the market. But isn't there some good news...like the new BMW M tanks, the M-ified X5 and X6? Those have hyperdrive and can beat the M3 around the Nurburgring despite weighing more than a Death Star, right? Well, yes. But real gearheads don't buy those - posers do. Same goes for the facelifted-but-still-hideo