It's November in Michigan, and that means it's cold and dreary and dark, not the most appealing time to be out driving, but when GM tosses us the keys to it's latest Buick we actually felt a twinge of excitement. Over a Buick. This shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone who's seen the accolades piled atop the Regal's twin the Opel/Vauxhall Insignia. Combined the two identical cars have racked up over thirty awards across Europe and have managed to claim top-seller status.

This is where you replay the last twenty years of General Motors history and put on your skeptic's hat. 'They'll decontent the car, turn the suspension into a squishy mess, the seats will be made of muppet soft cloth and the steering will feel like it's connected to the road through a damp rope.' This is a supposition any healthy car consumer should have, especially regarding a Buick made from an Opel. On all counts however, you'd be wrong.

The Regal in the US is different than the Korean market version in tuning only, it shares 95% of it's parts with the Insignia. Basically the changes come down to different headlights and tail lights per federal requirements, new software in the radio and navigation system, different rear view mirror glass, and all-season tires. They actually improved over the Insignia's NVH requirements, adding sound deadening material in the cabin to make it align with Buick targets.

We drove the European spec Insignia against the Regal and believe it or not, the Regal is better.

We drove Regals equipped with the 2.0 liter turbocharged inline four with both the six-speed automatic and the manual six speed. Off the line the car pulls hard with both the manual and the auto, squealing the tires through first, making use of all 220 HP and 258 lb-ft of torque on the way to a mid-seven second 0-60 MPH time. The transmissions are pretty respectable too, the manual shifts crisply and the engagement point is smooth, gears are well placed to work with the slightly heady engine and spirited driving is downright fun. The six speed auto isn't anything to sneeze at either, passing is a remarkably swift endeavor, it kicks down and away you go, pulling like a mule all the way. Steering under normal and spirited driving has an excellent on-center feel the thick-rimmed tiller has just the right weighty feel under turn-in and the car stays flat through hard sweepers. Potholes and heaves are soaked up though don't completely disappear, the car is tuned fairly stiff for a sporty communicative feel. If there's one thing we can fault in the Regal, it's the steering under hard acceleration, there is a tendency for the wheel to get light and darty, while it's not nightmarish vintage Saab-like torque steer, it's the one thing that could use improvement in the car. Did you catch that? One thing.

Everything about the car is solid, it feels overwhelmingly Germanic in nature. The build quality of the interior is on-par with modern VW's, the seats even look and feel like something out of Germany — firm, supportive, well bolstered and extraordinarily comfortable, they even have extending thigh supports. The leather is extremely high-quality but the cloth seats are nothing to sneeze at either. Buttons have a satisfying damped click, knobs are detented just right. The gauges are clear and communicative and the info center works without complaint. The car comes with all the latest gadgets like Bluetooth, satellite radio, navigation, and other widgets people seem to like. The entire layout is sculptural and quite handsome, though like the Buick LaCrosse, the sculpture results in storage that's somewhat lacking.

While we couldn't find a good place to put our camera and notepad, it didn't matter, just look at the thing, it's gorgeous. The looks which made us simultaneously jealous at the Europeans and furious at General Motors when they announced the Insignia for Europe translate to the Regal virtually unscathed. While following a train of maniac journalists through the twisty roads on the outskirts of Detroit, I regulaly found myself thinking 'Dayum! That's a good lookin' car up there.'

So let's see what we have here; A gorgeous, fun-to-drive, quick, comfortable, well-equipped American sedan built with the quality of its German competitors... and it's a Buick. Who knew?

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]

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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]

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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]

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

Toyota's Lightweight [LAtimes.com]

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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

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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]

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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]