Exterior Design: *****
It's a robot tank in desert brown, it has a 20mm cannon and tracks. 5 stars aren't enough.

Interior Design: **
It doesn't really have an interior, but since it can be operated from long range, you can be pretty much anywhere within 3 miles and run it, so the outside is the inside. We were standing in a parking lot in Sterling Heights and it was cold out. 2 stars.

Acceleration: Inc.
How do you gauge the acceleration of a tank? The Black Knight stayed in first gear, I wasn't in it, it seemed pretty responsive when I was driving it (Did we mention I DROVE A FREAKIN' ROBOT TANK?!?) but there's no way to say whether the acceleration was good or bad.

Braking: ****
Stellar. As you can see from the video, the tank stops like it's hitting a brick wall. With no need to prevent broken noses on passengers it can stop however hard it feels like.

Ride: Zero Stars
Better than a 1982 Corvette, but that's sure not saying much. We award it zero stars and may God have mercy upon the rears of any souls unfortunate enough to need a ride inside.

Handling: **
Er, how does a remote controlled tank handle? How about this — it did exactly what I asked it to do. A pirouette? Sure. Straight line? Right away, sir. Does it count if I felt the Earth move because the Earth was actually vibrating from it? No? Then it gets what it has coming to it.

Gearbox: Inc.
Without a shifter to throw or a seat to throw it from we couldn't tell how good or bad the cog-swapper was. Not only that, but the Black Knight's handlers kept the thing in first so, you know, no drag racing to be had in the parking lot.

Audio: **
There's no audio system save the gentle hum of the Cat diesel pushing it along. In fact, the tracks are actually nearly silent front the coat of rubber on them. But that's a far sight better than a few in-car radio systems we've experienced.

Toys: *****
Did we mention this a fully autonomous tank (OMG, I just remembered, I DROVE A FREAKIN' ROBOT TANK!!) with a 20mm cannon capable of real time obstacle detection and independent situational awareness? Yeah, cause it's got that. Again: Robot. Freakin'. Tank.

Value: Inc.
Depends. We don't know how much the price tag is on this system. But how do you put a value on keeping your soldiers out of nasty fire fights? That's for congressional appropriations committees to decide.

Overall: *****
FREAKIN'. AUTONOMOUS. ROBOT.TANK.

Not just bad, but a veritable chalice of wretchedness, a rattling, thumping, lolling tragedy of a car, a summary indictment of Chrysler's recent management and its self-eradicating product planning, all cast in plastic worthy of a Chinese water pistol.

Caparo T1 [World Car Fans]

Related:
Car Hack's Notebook: Top of the Top Marques [internal]

It's no secret that Los Pedran Jalop is not a massive Porsche obsessive. Most of his favorite sons of Ferdinand are racing vehicles, with only the 550 Coupe and 928 to really stoke his passions. But there's something about the new GT3 RS. It's the most immediately soulful road car Porsche has produced since the 928 left the line. A different beast to be sure, but an assured loin-stirrer it is, even to oddball dorks who've always loved 914s and think 912s are rad. It is an undeniable car, and we constantly castigate people who buy mere GT3s for not going full-awesome and waiting for the RS. We do not say this lightly, but the new GT3 RS is simply one of the coolest cars Porsche has ever built. And at a time when German cars are getting consistently more complex, to their own detriment, the latest Rennsport 911 has arrived to restore the mantle of merely essential awesome. As Ferry himself said, "This is why functional designs are so beautiful; so calming." We'd add that they look fabulous in wild-ass-yet-somehow-understated color schemes too. And with that, we hand things over to Mr. Needell to simply race the coked-up snail along Castle Coombe's asphalt straight razor. – Davey G. Johnson

[via Autoblog]

Related:

And Now A Word From Bruce's Patron, Ferry [Internal]

The lads at Autocar, more heavily locked in with the crew in Goodwood than we are, got a stab at a spin in the new Rolls-Royce Phantom Drophead coupé and wafted themselves silly. We've seen the Drophead at a few auto shows lately, and it's truly an insane piece of work. It makes us want to pick up a big, nasty redhead and cruise Century Boulevard, Victory Boulevard, Imperial Highway, Sixth Street and Santa Monica Boulevard. We'll leave Lower Wacker Drive to the Eskimos. We love it! – Davey G. Johnson

Rolls-Royce Phantom [Autocar]

Related:
Detroit Auto Show: Rolls Royce Phantom Drophead Coupe Bows, Barons Rejoice [Internal]

Ol' JC spins a tale of finding himself stuck somewhere eight miles high in Canada at an abandoned weather station with a guy named Halli, an uncultured Icelandic type who, from the sound of Clarkson's fabulous hyperbole, undoubtedly rebuild a drawbridge with nothing but a found crate of Doublemint foil wrappers, the soldering flux he invariably carries in his pocket and a fake Zippo bought at Keflavik International. Jezza also goes on about the Audi S3, which he doesn't much care for. He also says the RS 3 is two years away. What, praytell, will power that wee beastie? – Davey G. Johnson

Audi S3 [Times, UK]

Related:
Jalopnik Reviews: 2006 Audi RS4 - He Said Supercar, He Said 'Meh' Edition - Part 1 [Internal]

When he's not writing Car Hack's Notebook columns for the Jalop, our mate from Birmingham, UK, Nick Hall must suffer his day job. Such drudgery it is to fly to Scottsdale, Arizona to drive the Lamborghini Gallardo Superleggera in the desert at ludicrous speeds, trying to outwit a police force that lives to put his speed-gathering ass in the joint. What torture it must be to face the blank page after such a trip.

The final figure would have Arizona State Troopers reaching for the extradition papers, as figures of, theoretically speaking of course, 172mph, is akin to setting off a dirty bomb in a schoolyard round these parts. Of course it might just be bluff and bravado, depending on whether your belt carries a holster and cuffs.

WCF Test Drive: Lamborghini Gallardo Superleggera [World Car Fans]

Related:

In the video accompanying his review of the Ferrari 599, Se or Neil mentions that in a past life as a rock writer, he once interviewed Anthrax. He then proceeded to call them numbskulls. How can the band that recorded Among the Living and Persistence of Time possibly be a group of numbskulls? True, they did also record Fistful of Metal, an album that featured the lines, "I got thunder in my hands! I'm Metal Thrashing Maaaaaaaaaaaad!" So he could be correct. Regardless, Neil posits that the Fiorano is simply the best front-engined sports car ever made; a calling it a machine that will blow your mind to "spumy flinders." You okay over there, Dan? – Davey G. Johnson

Speed-style continuum [LA Times]

Related:
Nevermind The Horsepower: Buy A Ferrari 599, Use Your IPod [Internal]

Toyota's Lightweight [LAtimes.com]

Related:
More Dan Neil; The Apocalypse Dudes: An Open Letter to Auto Designers; Toyota Tundra Is The New Buick? [Internal]

That Jeremy Clarkson writes about cars by writing about other cars is about as predictable as an iron-gray sky and slight drizzle over Leeds. But even ol' Jezzah must have broken the soft-launch threshold in his latest Times piece. He doesn't mention the subject Lamborghini LP640 by name before word 786. And then, he lambastes its smart all-wheel-drive setup as "such a dim-witted set-up that you're usually going backwards before it's noticed the rear has lost traction." But in the end, with about a score of words left, he compares the alacantara steering wheel to dog fur and evokes the name of M torhead's Lemmy. And it's a positive review. Like digging for sushi-grade clams, this one. – Mike Spinelli

Mad, bad and utterly wonderful to know [Times (UK)]

Related:
More on the Lamborghini LP640 [internal]

Wherein Mister Clarkson and Master The Stig take on the bowel-loosening Lambo LP640 and live to tell the tale. – Davey G. Johnson

Related:
Classic Top Gear: Stay On Target! The Lotus Exige vs. Apache Attack Helicopter [Internal]

For part 47 of "Why My Job Is Better than Your Job," I direct your attention to how I spent my Saturday. Turns out that Jalopnik blabbermouth commenter and all around righteous dude Al Navarro is president of USA7s.com, a new club dedicated to all cars inspired by the legendary Lotus 7. He sent the Postfather a query wondering if any of us So-Cal Jalopnikos would be interested in riding a Se7en around Decker Canyon. I was screaming "YES!" at the top of my lungs. At 6:30 am. On a Tuesday. Alone in my room. I was all set to get whipped about the mountains in a Caterham by a man named Doug when freak weather caused the "Malibu Blizzard." Stupid global warming. My fantastic hoonage ride was delayed. More for those who dare to jump.

Enter Gert Burkhardt, a German electrical engineer who resides in Pasadena along with his gorgeous yellow and hand-polished aluminum South African built Birkin S3. He agreed to rattle my brain about my skull up and down some of Southern California's wildest roads. Gert sent me one final email before we set off:

Now...maybe I should mention something (because I had an embarrassing moment before). Since the car is something like a glove there is a certain size limitation. It fits me perfectly with my 195 pounds but if somebody wants to ride in it with a jeans size beyond 40 it is getting claustrophobic or just not going to work. I hope that is not a problem...

At a strapping, husky and yes — big-boned — 225lbs. I was confident that I would fit just fine. If you've never sat in a Se7en, let me assure it is nothing like a glove, as gloves tend to be soft and comfortable. No, being five-point swaddled in a Se7en is akin to being stuffed into a child's coffin. Only hotter. I spent the entire ride with my left hand holding my right arm so as to give Gert enough room to row the gears. Yeah, it's that tight.

The Se7en's acceleration is outright staggering. First of all, you are seated so low that if you wanted to, you could place your palm flat on the pavement. Second, the engine sounds as if the world's angriest, unmuffled lawnmower wants you dead. Gert claims that the 2.0L Ford Zetec engine cranks out, "170, maybe 180 horsepower." As the Birkin only weighs 1,400lbs, 60mph shows up in less than 5 seconds. Saying it feels faster is like explaining sex to a virgin. You just have to experience the thrill to understand.

We headed up Malibu Canyon and hung a right on Mulholland. Within a quarter of a mile it became apparent the chassis was ideally sorted, tightly hanging on until the very last moment and then finally breaking loose with a bit of oversteer. Gert explained that the chassis could be tuned for more oversteer but that he liked his neutral.

A dozen-dozen twists later we were blasting by the Rock Store where Schwarzenegger and Leno may or may not have been enjoying brunch. We really should have stopped, as Gert's shiny Se7en was seven-times cooler than all the hogs parked out front put together. Instead, Gert doubled-timed it up the hill to where Mulholland crosses Kanan and shifts into a much needed 55mph zone. Here Gert really opened her up and I found out what a fantastic touring car a Se7en can be. And then we got to Decker.

For those who don't know, Decker Canyon is one of the very greatest roads in all the world. It is the southern terminus of California Route 23 and connects Thousand Oaks to Malibu some ten miles later. This is the road where I nearly made Davey barf in the RS4. Here's what Wikipedia has to say;

This portion provides numerous beautiful vistas of the Santa Monica Mountains and the Pacific Ocean during daytime, but extreme caution is advisable, especially as the road nears PCH. It is a notoriously dangerous road, and the rusted chassis of cars that have gone over the side can still be seen. Bassist Philip Taylor Kramer of the rock band Iron Butterfly allegedly committed suicide by driving his van over the side along this route.

And when his crushed van was found three-days later, In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida was still playing on the eight-track. It's best to think of Decker Canyon as the N rburgring without the straightaways and with the added challenge of oncoming traffic. The Se7en ate it up. At first Gert was telling me about other roads he likes. By the time we got to Malibu, he was telling me what a fantastic hill climb Decker Canyon would make.

Now comes the Jalopnik part of the story. As the Swedish Mafia would have it, Dietrich Fat Stefan cleaved his Enzo in two about 100-yards up from where Decker Canyon dead ends into Pacific Coast Highway. This location also happens to be half-a-mile from the AC Schnitzer Memorial Nose Job Roadside Attraction. There we were, and... Gert stuffed it. Trying to perform a flashy, power-slider 180, my German pilot failed to notice a small, pointless curb. The front wheel, however, sure noticed. Long-story short, the fender was smashed against the tire. Yes friends, PCH had claimed another exotic. Or had it? "No problem," said Gert. "I always travel with tools."

And so, for the next half hour Gert and I wrenched, jacked and quite literally kicked the Birkin back into shape. I had a tiny crush on the South African kit-car before the crash. Afterwards, I was formulating a mix-tape to properly express my newfound obsession. I once helped rebuild an International Scout with little more than a brass hammer and a Sawzall. This was better. Seriously, we kicked it and made it home. It was like Han and Chewbacca beating the Millennium Falcon back into shape. Amazing. And now, dammit, I want a Se7en.

Gert's claiming that a decent used Se7en can be had for between $25,000 and $28,000, with new ones topping $40,000. If I abandon all hopes of owning a house within 100 miles of Los Angeles, I could swing a Se7en. Even if all I ever did was a mad, monthly power-blast over the Santa Monica Mountains. However, as I am about as mechanically inclined as, well, Gert's foot, mine would do very little but sit and look pretty. Until the tires went flat. Still, what a fantastic machine — yet another car for my personal spank bank fantasy garage. Sigh... [Thanks to Gert for the sweet ride and Al for the hookup] – Jonny Lieberman

Related:
Westfield to Build Hybrid Se7en Kit [Internal]

The most recent iteration of Jaguar's legendary XK line has been divisive at the very least. Some call it beautiful. Some cry "Ovoid Taurus" and others "carp." In his review of Jag's uprated GT car, Dan Neil admits to not being sure about the XK at first, but begins to warm to its design, commenting, "Maybe the effect is less aerodynamic than Jungian: This is the shape of a coveted thing slipping through your fingers." And while we argree that the 3/4 view of the car is quite nice, from head on, it still looks like a hip-hop-obsessed lamprey chugged a 40 of pure quinine. – Davey G. Johnson

One sleek cat: Jaguar XKR puts the 'grand' in grand touring [Detroit News]

Related:
Clarkson Pits XKR vs. AMV8 [Internal]

Now that the Hamster is repaired and the Top Gear boys are back to making television, we can dispense with the flipping jet car business and get back to giggling over egregious examples of hoonage — which is pretty much what Clarkson spends his time in the Jaguar XKR doing. He then sics it on its hotter half-sister, the Aston V8 Vantage, in a sans-Richard Dawson episode of Family Feud, usefully pointing out that the new EU booster seat mandate has now largely made 2+2 coupes too cramped in the back for the only people small enough to fit there — children. – Davey G. Johnson

Related:
Holy Jet Car, Hamster — Here's The Exclusive Crash Footage! [Internal]

Americans have been giving each other what-for since the beginning. After some fits and starts, a dash of Manifest Destiny here and there and some border clashes with unruly people of French descent and Spanish/Native ancestry, we mostly got on with the process of being annoyed with each other and banding together for a war on foreign soil now and then. Yeah, there was that conflict that inspired Across Five Aprils and now and then we shoot our presidents. But Europe's got a different issue.

After spending centuries upon centuries killing each other, the Europeans decided to band together and be far more civilized than their uncouth progeny across the pond. And became saddled with many of the problems America has been dealing with with better humor for the last 40 years or so. The Germans are deathly afraid of Nazis and Turks. The French outwardly loathe the North Africans. Even the genial Dutch have issues with Arabs, and the Dubliners are wondering where the hell all these fookin' Poles came from. But possibly no nation in Europe is quite so xenophobic as the Brits. They conquered the world and the world came back to conquer them. And they don't like it one bit.

They flirted with appeasement, and there was a prominent Nazi-sympathzing fascist movement in England until Hitler sent over the Ju-88s and Bf109s. So it makes sense then, that Clarkson would maintain an affinity for BMW, and beyond that, the Continent's own Camaro SS, the M6 cabrio. Rationally, the 6 sucks. It is not affordable. It is not tossable. It is not attractive. It really just isn't that good. It is not as rad as the E39, from which it should have learned some tricks, nor as imposing or cool as its 6-series forebears. We've not had a chance to experience the M version, but Clarkson claims a liberal application of horsepower and the open-air experience make him want to mate with the car. We're just not convinced it's worth the money. And we're not driving any M6 press cars in the UK until BMW provides us with proof they've all been slathered in Purell. – Davey G. Johnson

BMW M6 Convertible [Times, UK]

Related:
Jalopnik Holiday Gift Guide: Jeremy Clarkson's "The Good The Bad The Ugly" [Internal]

Los Jalopniks have only ever experienced the American-spec Evo (Farago likely excepted). One of us owned one. Another one of us thinks it's the greatest AWD car a man of average means could aspire to own, one would rather have a Jeep Liberty, and another would rather drive a hatchback and thinks another of us is slightly loony for saying that we would rather have an a souped-up Mitsu than an RS 4.

So for those of us who are sick of having "420hp" shoved down our throats from people with a predeliction for cars with their engine in an asinine locale, Mitsubishi produced the FQ400. But they didn't sell it here. And according to Clarkson, it kind of sucked anyway. However, he loves the FQ360 — the top-spec ninth-iteration Evo, and the last of the 4G63 interceptors — somehow, even without driving it, we can say at least 2/5 of the staff likely implicitly agree. – Davey G. Johnson

Mitsubishi Evo IX [Times, UK]

Related:
Inside Line Drives the Evo IX [Internal]

Fifth Gear's Tom Ford takes the massive Bentley Azure droptop out for a spin and ends up in a slightly disturbing makeout session with the steering wheel. Good thing the airbag didn't go off. – Davey G. Johnson

Related:
Fifth Gear: Tom Ford on the 335i [Internal]

Los Jalopniks have yet to get our hands on a 599 GTB. But we oh, oh, oh, oh so desperately want to. So far, C/D has crashed one, we have drooled over it from Geneva to Pebble Beach to Paris to LA, and now Clarkson weighs in on the Enzo-engined bruiser, As is his wont, he rips the hyperbux GT a new one, complaining that the headlights are no more effective than "candles in jam jars," among other things before succumbing to its charms, commenting "After just three days the power and the excess that had originally caused me to question this car were now causing me to drool and dribble." We wanna expectorate on our chins too. Please? – Davey G. Johnson

Ferrari 599 GTB Fiorano [Times, UK]

Related:
Pebble Beach: Ferrari 599 Preview [Internal]

While the urea-injection system won't come online until the 2009 model year, the kids over at Inside Line managed to smuggle an E320 diesel into the Golden State for testing. The seemed to like it quite well, calling it a better value than the E350, even with the $1K price premium over the gasoline model. But they were shocked — shocked — that they couldn't get low-sulfur diesel in Fontana, CA. Unless they were at California Speedway, or on their way somewhere else there is no reason to go to Fontucky, ever. The poor mid-sized Merc must've been traumatized. – Davey G. Johnson

Follow-Up Test: 2007 Mercedes-Benz E320 Bluetec [Inside Line]

Related:
Five US States to Mercedes: Bluetec Not Green Enough [Internal]

Free lease on a Bimmer? Gotta be an influencer, unsere Kapitan. But if you've got the cred the Bayrischens are looking for, you could be rolling in a dual-fuel BMW Hydrogen 7. The ForbesAutos crowd took one for a spin, and while the performance figures are rather underwhelming, and the liquid hydrogen fuel will burn off entirely in the space of two weeks, you can still run the thing on gasoline. BMW figures hydrogen ICE cars won't be ready for prime time until 2020, so think of it as investing your scenester cred in a piece of the future for six months. – Davey G. Johnson

Liquid Hydrogen Hopes: We Drive BMW's Hydrogen 7 Luxury Sedan [ForbesAutos]

Related:
Fill 'er Up With High Test: Driving the BMW Hydrogen 7 [Internal]

While our own Mister Wert lurved him some of that new Silverado, Texas Sajeev of The Truth About Cars wasn't so sold on the new GMT900 pickup. Se or Mehta dug the 5.3L small block, found the styling acceptable, the leather chintzy, and the truck's dynamic behavior rather uninspired. A Close Personal Texan Friend of Los Jalopniks recently drove the new Tundra (apparently beating the living crap out of it) and says the General, FoMoCo and DCX should be very, very worried. Think it's time for some point-counterpoint, gentlemen? Meanwhile, we just want a modern-day Stout. Or similar. – Davey G. Johnson

Chevrolet Silverado LTZ [The Truth About Cars]

Related:
Jalopnik Reviews: 2007 Chevrolet Silverado / GMC Sierra, Part 1 [Internal]

Yes, yes, we know that of the two major British motoring programs, we're biased toward the outlandish hoonage and silly pranks of Hammond, May, Clarkson and the Stig. But we do take a hit off of the Fifth Gear pipe now and then. So what have we today? Tom Ford on the BMW 335i, which is apparently brilliant, yet leaves him itching for a bit more of a tickle in the trouser department. Hopefully, we'll drive one soon and report back on our loins' stirredness or lack thereof. ] – Davey G. Johnson

Related:
Fifth Gear: Mini Works GP vs. R/C Car [Internal]

There is a part of us that thinks that the Mitsubishi Lancer Evo might possibly be the greatest car available today. Its performance belies its price. If you haven't been in one, get in one. Sure, the styling borders on the retarded and the interior is sheer crap. But Sweet Jesus on a Turbonique pogo stick in minimal-gravity conditions, once you're in the wheel, you simply don't care. You don't care about the dorky wing. You don't care about the chintzy plastics. All you care about is that this hypertuned shitbox goes, stops and turns like very little on the road today. And all of those cars cost way more money.

Peter Lyon took the latest iteration out for a spin on the streets and tracks of Nihon and came black glowing. We are in no way shocked. Dear Mitsubishi, there are two things you must do. One, make all of your cars as good as the Evo. Two, bring back the Starion. Do that, and you will thrive. That is all. – Davey G. Johnson

Japanese First Drive: 2007 Mitsubishi Evolution IX MR [Inside Line]

Related:
SUPER DURABILITY! Mitsubishi Lancer, The Elder [Internal]

Despite the Loverman's obsession with the Shelby GT500, his other employer, Robert Farago, does not like the snakey horse. Says Farago: "That's like saying it's OK to shag Adriana Lima even if you know she's got herpes. Maybe you'll catch it, maybe you won't. Why worry when it feels so gooood? 'Cause it will right until the moment it doesn't." But according to Jonny, "You can smoke the tires at 80! It's awesome!" Click through for Farago's review and his verbal sparring match with Jonny. – Davey G. Johnson

Shelby GT500 — Counterpoint [The Truth About Cars]

Related:
Jalopnik Reviews: 2007 Ford Shelby GT500, Part 1

My cousin Pierre in Dublin owns the Land Rover Defender 110 pictured above, a particular model of which only 500 or so were imported to the US. It has a diesel, it's hard to get into and out of. The interior's thrashed, and his girlfriend hates it. I, however, think it's the bestest thing on four wheels. Jeremy Clarkson, on the other hand, doesn't like the Defender. To him, it's not a proper car. It's underpowered; slow. A relic. And so what if it is? I hope they never stop making it. – Davey G. Johnson

Defender 90 Td5 Station Wagon [Times, UK]

Related:
Land Rover to Improve Defender for 2007 [Internal]

Wherein Vicki Hender-Butlersonsen takes on an electric HPI racer with a John Cooper Works GP. Who shall triumph? Who shall perish? Will the teenage boy get to snog the thirtysomething Vicki? Probably not. – Davey G. Johnson

Related:
The Arena Football of Car TV Shows [Internal]

Yes, we all know that Mitsu is a somewhat beleagured brand these days. But they did give us the mighty Starion, the totally underrated Mirage Turbo hatchback, and of course, the nothing-short-of-obscenely miraculous Lancer Evo. Paukert drove the upcoming Lancer on some winding roads near Santa Barbara recently, and seemed to like it just fine. But that doesn't matter. Without Mitsubishi, we wouldn't have Super Active Yaw Control, Mitsubishi Innovative Valve-timing-and-lift Electronic Control or, most importantly, SUPER POTENTIAL!. There, Mitsubishi, we just came up with your new tagline: Super. Innovative. Mitsubishi. Check's in the mail? Great, thanks. Business doing potential with you. – Davey G. Johnson

We Drive The New Mitsubishi Lancer - Just Don't Ask Us About It [Winding Road]

Related:
Hoon of the Day: Look Out Honey 'Cause He's Using (Turbo) Technology [Internal]

Acura is a strange brand. Only now is Honda beginning to figure out what they want it to be, and as the Civic has moved upmarket, it's edged out its more sophisticated cousin. Production ended this summer but there are still a number of them left on dealer lots. We've always liked the RSX, which seemed more grown-up and less boy-raceresque than its predecessor, the Integra. TTAC's Bill Montgomery, with whom we crunched terrain in the FJ Cruiser last month, pens a mash note to the little coupe. Czech it, and then pour out a 40 of Old E for our departed friend. – Davey G. Johnson

Acura RSX [The Truth About Cars]

Related:
The RSX Hits Death Row [Internal]

You stateside types might think the Brera is a pretty car. You might even wipe a bit of drool from your chin looking at pictures of it. You might even be praying nightly for its arrival on these shores. But the sheer beauty of this car needs to be seen in the metal to be appreciated. Alfa simply has the best-looking lineup of cars of any company in the world right now. When we walked their display in Paris, we couldn't find a styling dud in the bunch. The 8C Competizione is the dead-sexiest exotic since the Miura, and it's possibly less likely to catch fire. There. We said it.

Not even the 308 GTB or the pre-bumperette Countach can touch the 8C in the hotter-than-a-longshorman's-armpit department. And the Brera is simply yumtastic. No, it's not particularly fast. Yes, it's kind of pricey for what it is. But Clarkson thinks it might be the perfect replacement for your SUV. We'd surely replace ours with it. In half of one of Monica Bellucci's heartbeats. – Davey G. Johnson

Alfa Romeo Brera Coup V6 [Times, UK]

Related:
Health and Safety Takes on Jeremy Clarkson [Internal]

Commenter st3ph3n, our resident Scots Subie-head, sent over this video from Monday night's episode of Fifth Gear. It's the lowdown on the Litchfield Type 25, a steroidal Impreza with 415 Cosworth-tuned horsepower that gets to 60 in 3.8 seconds. We wonder if the Loverman would rather have this or the RS4?

Hey Brits! Want an Angry WRX? It's Got Cosworth Yumminess... [Internal]

Our boy Zerin at Dubspeed sent his man Wes Grueninger off to French Canada to flog the V10-powered angry brothers of the A6 and A8, and came back...well, we're not entirely sure. He had nits and picks about both models, but as if seemed like he liked them and was suitably impressed with the precision of most everything but the brake modulation. Plus, there's an entertaining bit about airborne pomme frittes and an irate Quebecois woman, and we're always suckers for that kind of nonsense. – Davey G. Johnson

Dubspeed Driven First Drive: 2007 Audi S8 & S6 [Dubspeed Driven]

Related:
Jalopnik Reviews: 2006 Audi RS4 - He Said Supercar, He Said 'Meh' Edition, Part 1 [Internal]

What happens when Lotus develops a Proton exotic and then has it handed back to itself? The answer, unfortunately, is not Tesla. Nor is it Exige. Or Elise. Or even submarine Esprit. If the Inside Line-types ensconced in the Edmunds compound are to be believed, the new Europa S fits into a no-man's land that isn't particularly pleasing. They say it's too pricey, too noisy for the intended segment and too impure to be a proper Lotus, plus it's too off the mark to slot in anywhere else. Ouch. – Davey G. Johnson

Impressive on paper, but in the real world, it's one thing no Lotus should ever have to be: compromised [Inside Line]

Related:
Ain't Nothing Like The Real Thing: The Lotus Europa [Internal]

An ex-girlfriend with whom I still have somewhat of a volatile relationship lives in Birmingham, Alabama. This would generally be rather unimportant, other than I felt like I needed to go and stare down the city she bailed on me for. So when Toyota offered me and three other various internet personalities a shot at going rock crawling outside of the 'Ham in celebration of the new FJ Cruiser, I figured I may as well take them up on it. The ex and I had had dinner plans for a month, which she suddenly and unceremoniously flaked on a couple of days before I left.

Toyota had put us up at the Tutwiler, which touts itself as the grand dame of Southern hotels. And while the people were nice, the cotomer sevis left something to be desired. It wasn't an uncaring attitude; it was just general ineptitude, which, for a hotel described by said ex as the Claremont or Fairmont of Birmingham, was somewhat (and I'm being rather generous here), below par. Plus, Birmingham is like Sacramento without the ready access to the Sierras or the sea. And although I met some very nice people, the overriding attitude — while hospitable — was "You're in 'Bama now, son. Don't you dare ask about the UT game while Auburn's playing." Toto, we're not in Pedro, anymore. We're about to squeal like pigs.

Even the other Southerners wandered around whistling or singing "Dueling Banjos" when out of earshot of the Alabama types. So while it's safe to say that I felt entirely worthless for being outvoted in favor of this podunk backwater (and I tried to like it — I swear), I'll readily admit that the Grayrock ORV park was an absolutely stunning locale, and the weather was note-perfect for a day of attempted Toyota-bending.

Toyota's taking a grassroots approach to the marketing of the FJ via its Trail Team program, sending crews out to various crawlin' and muddin' events across the nation in an effort to get the hardcores into their new small ute before they launch a mainstream campaign. And after spending a day attempting to break a black-cherry colored model, I have to say that I'm a believer. And with that, let's get the bad stuff out of the way first.

Number one, let's talk about the seatbelts. The front belts are anchored in the rear clamshell doors. Which means if you attempt to open a rear door while the driver or passenger is still belted in, strangulation-related hilarity ensues. Furthermore, on steep inclines, the pretensioners lock, precluding hanging your head out the window, forcing you to release your belt. Then, when the recon is done, you can't put it back on before you get to level ground, which means that you're in danger of bouncing yourself into the roof.

Beyond that, the rear area is devoid of oh-shit bars. And given that the FJ is capable of some serious oh-shitness, that seems like a serious omission. Also, it'd be nice to be able to open the rear doors without having to crack the fronts. We pulled a lot of Chinese firedrills while crawling the trucks, what with photogs jumping in and out and spotters making rapid ingress and egress over serious terrain, and the door setup left a lot to be desired. It's definitely a DINK-mobile. If you have kids and don't go off-road, there are certainly better choices. Also bad: a thermometer that only works over 15mph. On the road? No biggie. But when you spend your day creeping at 10mph in 4WD low, it's a rather amusing to see the thermo reading 45F when it's actually around 70.

But here's the thing. The FJ is the real deal. Our trucks were only slightly altered to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous journos and OHV enthusiasts. Here's the mod list: Full-length custom skidplates, ARB bull-bars with Warn winches, TRD cat-back exhaust systems, TRD wheels shod with more serious off-road tires, and a set of Toyota rock rails. Frankly, if you're going to do mild rock crawling, the rock rails and tires are the only musts. Toyota's equipped the truck with an electronically-locking rear diff, as well as a rather ingenious traction-control system.

And this is where the zen of rock crawling comes in. The first trail I tackled was rather ironically-titled "Bunny Slope #3." About 2/3 of the way up the course, there was a pretty technical section involving a few bomb holes and ruts on one side with alternating rocks, which required some serious spotting. The obstacles come so close together that it requires some sort of preternatural photographic vision/memory that I simply don't have. It took maybe ten attempts to finally power over it using only the onboard traction control.

Later in the day, we tried it again, with Will, one of the Trail Team guys, behind the wheel. It'd taken Tim, who'd spotted me on my attempt, an age to get over it just ahead of us. Will simply engaged the locker and powered straight through in one try. However, that doesn't signify a triumph of old-school lockers over the electronic mind of the traction control system. In other situations, the electronics didn't act so much as a nanny as a guide. Toyota likes to say that they've equipped the FJ with a toolkit, and that's exactly what they've done. The traction control and the locker can be engaged and disengaged at will. And while I think, as a PR move, they used the traction control to show off its technology, there were situations where obstacles could've been traversed more easily with the locker engaged. But that's what's really pretty amazing about the FJ — on the road, it's a very smooth vehicle. And offroad, even in basically-stock trim, it's ridiculously capable for a vehicle at its price-point. You could spend more to get less, easily

The Wrangler is more basic; less advanced and a little less cutesy. With the FJ, if you're going to swap out axles, you're negating the advantage of the traction control, which is truly one of the truck's best features. And with an independent front end, it's hard to lift the thing to the skies. But as a weekend-warrior trail-runner that can double as a work-week commuter, the FJ is hard to match. It's hipper than the H3. It's the metro boy that can pull off the hairy chest to the Liberty's Cialis-popping twink, and it won the respect of a crew of Alabama Jeepers who wanted to see it fail. I'm not a big Toyota guy. Sure, I like my Starlets and early '70s Celica GTs. I *heart* me some '80s post-Hilux and 'glass-backed 4Runner action, and I've always had a soft spot for FJ40s and 55s.

But to be honest, the FJ Cruiser, while largely due to government regulations, is a bit too padded for my tastes, is a ridiculously serious machine for the price; especially in an era of watered-down crossovers. I bought my SUV in V8, rear-drive form because I wanted a station wagon for tow/haul duty. If I were in the market for a genuine off-roader for weekend blasts and work-week slogs, the FJ's combination of styling, prowess and general civility makes it an absolute must-consider. But if I had a family, I'd probably lean toward the Liberty for everyday practicality's sake. And then I'd spend my days lamenting that I hadn't bought the FJ. It's not a perfect vehicle, and it's aesthetically a tad overwrought (although I do dig the basic styling of it) but let it not be doubted that the FJ is incredibly good at what it does.

And here's the deal. I went to 'Bama in a rather bothered state. I was frustrated with the reptitive frustration of the repetitive frustration of the repetitively-frustrating BS I was going through with the aforementioned ex; it seemed like a never-ending slog. But the nature of crawling taught me something. The whole raison d'etere of the sport is that it is a never-ending slog; there's a peace to it — even as you're smoking your tires on slick rocks or high-centering the truck so brilliantly that you could literally change all four tires with no worry of the thing tipping over on you. And well, that, friends, is why God gave us the electric winch. – Davey G. Johnson

Disclaimer: Toyota paid for my flight to Alabama, my room at the Tutwiler, all of my food and drink, gas and insurance on the vehicles.

[Gallery]

Related:
From Toyota to You: FJ Cruiser Gets TRD Package, Camry Hybrid Gets Price Increase [Internal]

FoMoCo invited us down to Duke's Restaurant in Malibu to drive the Shelby GT500 Convertible, the Shelby GT and most righteously right-on of all, the Hertz Shelby GT-H along the beautiful Bo Stefan Eriksson/Mel Gibson/AC Schnitzer Memorial Highway. After a few minutes spent gawking at all four cars (they had both kinds of Shelby GT — the black and the white) parked against the backdrop of the Pacific Ocean, it occurred to us just how ludicrous it is that Ford is sitting on the pole in the race to be the first American manufacturer to go belly-up in a generation.

These Shelbys, especially the Hertz, raise men's heart rates. Women look at you when you drive them. Pretty, rich, Malibu-Barbie-type women. A trio of motorcycle cops even stopped by to ogle (which was good because I did something really dumb right in a front of a five-O an hour later and he didn't budge). If only Ford would attack the rest of their product line with the same vim and vigor... well, you know where and how this sentence ends.

First up was the 500hp, 480 pound-foot GT500 drop-top, sporting a detuned version of the recently deceased Ford GT's 5.4L Roots-blown mill. A stonker that happens to fill up every inch of space in the engine bay. Seriously, cramped to the point of having to go metric. GT Marketing Manager John Alguire explained that the fit is so tight that when they load the engine in from the bottom, they have only two millimeters of clearance on either side. Sadly, with the hood up, the motor resembles a chemistry set made out of piss-bottles. Best to keep the lid down and concentrate instead on all the angry looking snakes festooned on the vehicle. I counted seven, including two stitched into the seats!

Grabbing the six-speed Tremec handle is your first clue that this is not your mother's Mustang ragtop. Unfortunately, it is the last clue for quite some time. Call it a Q-car if you like, but in normal, everyday driving (which the ridiculously congested PCH provided plenty of) no indication is given that you are at the helm of the most powerful factory 'Stang ever built. The cowl shakes as per normal, the soundtrack isn't all that interesting, and the view out over the hood is nothing to write home about. Heeling and toeing into a red light provided the first inkling that something special lurks below, for as you crest 4,000rpm, an SVT badge in the center of the tach lights up orange. Cool! And when you press the button to turn off the traction control, it too lights up orange. That's when you should tell the passenger to hold on. As 57% of this porker's weight (3,920lbs. in all) is over the front axle, the rear end slides like Enzos hunt power poles. And once you get into third gear, the acceleration is frightening. We loved it. Summary: when pushed hard the Shelby GT500 Convertible is as cruel a car as they come. But why do you have to push it so hard?

Next was the Mustang GT Ford should have been building since day one, the Shelby GT. For reals y'all, this is the current height of 'Stang chic. Silver Le Mans racing stripe? Standard. Same hood scoop as the original Shelby Mustangs? Check. Bulging power dome bonnet? You know it. Badass brushed aluminum grill? Damn skippy. But beneath all the hotness lies the best bits and baubles from all three of Ford Racing's packs. A modded chip, 90mm cold-air intake, groovy mufflers, Hurst short-throw shifter, dampers, lowered springs, sway bars and the coolest-looking tower brace of all time — plus honest-to-Dyno Don Nicholson hood pins — all get installed and massaged by the factory. The resulting car not only looks and handles better than any Mustang to ever leave Dearborn, but it sounds better, too. Aside from the crap stock GT brakes held over from the garden-variety car, there's only one thing wrong with the Shelby GT — you can't get it with a gold stripe.

Enter the Shelby GT-H. I've driven all manner of high-gloss metal up and down the coast of California and never have I felt as fly or as desired. Everybody looked at this car. Wisely, Ford capped production of the Hertz Rent-a-Racer at 600 units, guaranteeing mondo exclusivity. Think of it this way, FoMoCo had to go to Hertz and rent this puppy for the event because they don't have any! The only differences between the GT-H and the Shelby GT is that the former only comes with an auto box, you can't turn off the traction control, some badging and the hood scoop, which is more in line from the original Ford/Shelby/Hertz GT350H. Never mind all that, as you still get 325hp, 330lbs. footsies of torque and the nipple clamps poking out of the hood. $99 a day and a buck-a-mile? Well worth it.

Almost as fun was the impromptu car show that took place in the parking lot. All those Shelbys must have stirred something up in the quiet beach-front community (or just brought a lot of car freaks together). Coolest of the day was the '49 Ford V La Carrera Panamericana "Mexico" racer, although I did get a few miles in a 1983 Porsche 911SC.
[by Jonny Lieberman]

Carroll Shelby Helps Choose Mercury Mariner Hybrid as 'Green Car of the Year' [Internal]

Thankfully, Inside Line's Kelly Toepke and her husband Barry escaped this wreck with a few broken bones and their six-year-old daughter was fine. In an attempt to avoid a spinning Forester smacked by an alleged hoon, Barry ended up driving the long-term test Commander onto a grass median and into a tree. Interestingly the Toepkes' injuries (a broken ankle for him and multiple fractures in her foot) were caused by the engine coming back through the firewall, which freaks us out a little bit. Meanwhile the po-po are still looking for the hoon, who left the scene. Facking 'oun.

CRASH: Say goodbye to the Jeep Commander [Inside Line]

Related:
Jalopnik Reviews: 2006 Jeep Commander, Part 1 [Internal]

One of our resident reviewers proved you can go home again by getting some action from Jean Jennings. No, not like that. Austin went back to his old Automobile boss and picked up a gig driving an Impala solely on E85 from Michigan to the Coors brewery in Golden, where they not only brew beer, but manufacture ethanol. And then, y'know, he drank some beer. Because if there are two things Austins know how to do well, it's grow top-quality Blue Spruce, Norway Spruce and Canaan Fir trees and consume alcohol.

2006 Chevrolet Impala E85: Hopped up on Ethanol [Automobile]

Related:
Sometimes A Guv's Gotta Do What A Guv's Gotta Do: Michigan Guv Granholm Creates Incentive Program For 1,000 BioFuel Pumps By 2008 [Internal]

Lucky bastard Michael Bettencourt of ForbesAutos got a chance to ride as a passenger on a few hot laps of Mosport Raceway in an unnamed owner's Ferrari FXX. The 800hp, 2,500-lb ber-Enzo apparently dished out the punishment like a pre-menstrual Zsa Zsa Gabor in a leather corset, prompting Bettencourt to comment, "I was already wondering what I had said wrong to deserve this automotive flogging. Even with me bracing myself as much as I could, my neck, legs and hang-on arm tingled like wobbly Jell-O after the car was shut off." G-forces are a bitch. Just ask John Stapp

Ferrari FXX Foreshadows Next Supercar [ForbesAutos]

Related:
Super-Enzo Video: The Ferrari FXX at Monza [Internal]