Since the Model T, car owners have paid good money to make their rides stand out from the crowd. A brass radiator cap, special head lights, a steering wheel that pivoted out of the way– these are just a few of the hundreds of mods that could turn a Tin Lizzie into your Tin Lizzie. Today, the trend continues with an even wider (and wilder) array of goodies lining the aisles of automotive parts emporia, tempting whoever wanders past with the promise of aesthetic liberation. With a few exceptions, the only thing that results from these efforts is a 9-1-1 to the taste police.

The flame wars regarding “imports” versus "domestics" have reached Fahrenheit 451. Ironically enough, I’ve doused those fires by banning “any comments that attempt to impugn this site's authors or its commentators for an anti-domestic car bias.” And I mean it. To those who would malign this website on that basis, I state for the record that TTAC writers apply their critical facilities without fear or favor, regardless of a manufacturer’s national origin. Although I haven’t asked my scribes to take a loyalty oath, I’m sure they love their country. What they don’t love is crap cars.

In his own ew-inducing sort of way, Oedipus defined the Tragic Hero. His story teaches us that character is fate; the arrogant King can no more escape his destiny than a bad guy on a cop show. And so it is with the Ford Taurus, a vehicle named for either the constellation of the same name (minus the Ford) or the Zodiac sign ascribed to it. According to pseudo- science, Taureans are practical, reliable, patient, affectionate, competent, ambitious, determined, lazy, jealous, inflexible, greedy and stubborn. And some people wonder why the model took twenty years to die an ignominious death…