You gotta love Audi. Despite its rivals' explosive growth, The Boys from Ingolstadt have resisted the lure of sudden intended niche acceleration. While questions about reliability and resale value have shadowed the brand's progress like a pack of predatory wolves, Audi keeps on plugging away with a limited line of luxury limos, waiting for their turn to fill US owners' heated garages. As always, the A4 is both the point man and the mainstay of Audi's long march. Does the latest evolution finally signal the beginning of the end of the beginning?

From a sheet metal standpoint, the A4 is perfectly positioned to enjoy a rare window of unopposed conservatism. BMW's once-staid products have been turning Japanese (I really think so), Mercedes has renounced their discreet design heritage, Jaguar has overexploited theirs, Cadillac continues to live on the edge and the Asian brands are stuck in Pasticheland (save Infiniti). Aside from its inappropriately voracious snout– perfectly designed to make US license plates look ugly and stupid– the A4 is the ideal choice for drivers who believe discretion is the better part of showing off. It's old money on wheels.

The GM Death Watch series has repeatedly asserted that The General has too many brands selling too many models, with insufficient focus on any level, with excessive overlap on every level. The very first DW entry, "GM Must Die", recommended that the world's largest automaker should be broken-up; its constituent parts deep-sixed and/or spun off into independent corporate entities. I figured the stance placed me well to the right of my fellow GM-bashers. And then I read Al Ries' Ad Age column, "The Sad and Unnecessary Decline of Saturn" and instantly realized I wasn't being radical enough.

Ries wrote that there are only two ways for a company to increase sales: expand the brand (with new products) or expand market share (capture more of the existing market with the existing product). The Atlanta-based marketing consultant asserts that market share is best. Once a brand captures more than 50% of its market, it's virtually unassailable. Ries cites McDonald's, Heinz ketchup, Microsoft, Tabasco, Rolex, Kleenex, Starbucks, WD-40 and Jello as examples of consumer brands whose market sector dominance insulates them from competitive pressure and obviates the need for brand expansion. [NB: variations within a brand's remit, such as Kleenex with Aloe, are not considered brand extensions.]

Last June, Rabid Rick Wagoner unveiled his five-point plan to rescue The General. He promised to downsize GM's production capacity– then let normal attrition take its course. He promised thrilling new products– then accelerated production of gas-guzzling SUV's. He promised he'd cut union benefits– then didn't. He promised to end incentives– then launched the Employee Discount for All program. And lastly, Rabid Rick promised to build cars using cheaper parts made in China. This he's doing. Unfortunately, it's the one promise he shouldn't have made.

A quick reminder: China is a dictatorship. There is no freedom of speech, movement or association. There is no independent judiciary. "Workers' rights" exist entirely at the ruling party's pleasure. It is, in truth, a police state. On the positive side (at least from GM's point-of-view), the country has a large supply of men, women and children who are willing to toil on an assembly line for $1.50 an hour without legal protections, health care or a pension.

Peter DeLorenzo latest rant tore US automakers a new orifice. The Autoextremist accused US manufacturers of putting all their eggs in an SUV shaped basket– despite clear warnings that rising gas prices and political correctness would eventually destroy the genre's over-arching popularity. Although Mr. DeLorenzo's essay is a cogent and scathing indictment of the automakers' short-term thinking, he's sure to face some stiff rhetorical competition from the environmental groups who've been railing against SUV's since the first Suburban burbled its way into the American housewife's heart. Guess what? I'm not joining the chorus.

While I'm happy to condemn GM et al for responding to US market trends with all the alacrity of a three-toed sloth, I reject Mr. DeLorenzo's argument that Detroit artificially induced America's "need" for lumbering leviathans. Did Colgate create the "need" for whitening toothpaste? No; they identified a desire, created a product to satisfy it and marketed the Hell out of it. As a capitalistic enterprise, automakers are obligated to follow the same process. Taking automakers to task for making XXXX SUV's handle like cars– instead of simply abandoning the entire genre as "woefully inappropriate"– makes Mr. DeLorenzo more of an Autoelitist than a player of extreme games.

You can no more assess a PT Cruiser Convertible based on its acceleration, ride and handling than you can rate a Harley Davidson Softail on its ability to keep pace with a Honda Blackbird. As a "cruiser", the PT Convertible can only be judged by one metric: its feel good factor (FGF). Do owners run out of milk at odd intervals? Do they name their cars? Do they lower the lid in winter? Yes, cubed. The PT drop top has all the car-isma cruisers crave– and then some.

First and foremost, it's a four-seater. The rag-top cognoscenti know that a convertible's FGF increases arithmetically with each additional passenger. If the rear seats are spacious, the pleasure generated is almost inconceivable. Try. Imagine stashing a couple of best buds in your Chrysler top-down two-door and heading for the beach; sucking on an ice cold Coke and blissing on Ban de Soleil as your crew sing along with the latest Black Eyed Peas hookfest. If that's not a peak automotive experience (and an example of unpaid product placement), I don't know what is.

You get a terrific view from the top of a roller coaster– but there's only one way to go. GM execs would have known the feeling at the beginning of August– if they were paying attention. They weren't. Despite all the experts' warnings, The General's top brass were too busy high-fiving each other over the 'success' of their Employee Discount for Everyone (EDFE) program, talking-up their plans to gently wean customers from discounts and incentives. Well hands in the air boys, the August sales figures are in…

Ward's AutoInfoBank reports that GM's sales are down 16.5%. [All figures cited are in comparison to August '04] Lest you think the results were a simple case of a sinking tide stranding all boats, Autodata reveals that the US automotive market as a whole rose 3.8%. While Daimler Chrysler and Ford eked-out small gains (1.2 and 1.4%), check out their Japanese competition: Toyota (+9.5%), Nissan (+10.6%) and Honda (+18.6%).

Listen up guys: size matters. Not your penis; your testicles. Testicle size determines your level of sexual desire and stamina. By the same token, a minivan's interior is not the ultimate measure of its worth. While minivanistas love to boast about their whip's cubic capacity and cranny count, all MPV's can stow the better part of an NFL specialty team with air-conditioned ease. No, the true gauge of a minivan's basic appeal is its engine. All true pistonheads know that there's not a vehicle made– including minivans– that can't be improved by a large capacity, free-revving powerplant. Luckily, the Nissan Quest's got a big one.

Nissan's people mover holsters a detuned version of the Z-car's 3.5-liter six, with all the usual tricks of the trade (DOHC, variable valve timing and intake, multi-port fuel injection, drive-by-wire throttle, platinum spark plugs, etc.). In other words, this behemoth books. Well, OK, "browses swiftly". Empirically speaking, the Quest accelerates from zero to 60 in 8.2 seconds. The stat may not be stunning in these days of Hemi-engined Jeeps, but the Quest's 240 horses are a mighty frisky herd. The minivan bolts from the starting gate with a vigor that belies its looks, genre, size and age.

Last Tuesday, a man named John E Packowski sent me an email: 'Effective immediately, The San Francisco Chronicle will no longer be using your automotive columns.' I'd never heard of the Chronicle's Creative Director. But I was hardly mystified by Mr. Packowski's motivation. The week previous, the paper ran my review of the Subaru B9 Tribeca.

I'm not sure if the Chronicle removed my description of the SUV's front end as a 'flying vagina' (the editors ignore my request for a copy of the published review), but even without it my analysis of the B9 was not bound to please its manufacturer. The section's editor, Mike Berry, refused to clarify the exact cause of my summary dismissal. But a colleague let it be known that a Subaru-scented shit storm had hit the department responsible for my employment. The paper caved.

As I write, a group of Wall Street analysts are bunkering in GM's corporate HQ for an update on The General's recovery plans. The morning session will feature a PowerPoint pummeling entitled 'The Solstice Will Come out Tomorrow'. The post-prandial spin session will address the big issue: how GM plans to stem the torrent of red ink spewing from every corporate vein, artery and orifice. As TTAC was denied admission to the confab, we thought we'd Blackberry a few questions to our secret admirers…

1. When is GM going to cut UAW benefits?

You may have noticed that TTAC hasn't been maintaining its usual fecundity. That's 'cause we're busy hanging with the homies during the challenging camp – school hiatus, and trying to earn a crust. (If you're suffering sarcasm withdrawl, please note that Robert Farago's reviews now appear on a weekly basis on www.jalopnik.com and in the ghetto known as 'User Reviews' on www.automotive.com. Same cars, different jokes.) Meanwhile…

TTAC has recently been voted 'Best of the Web' by Forbes magazine (official watermark to follow). We've also crested the 3k per day visitor ratio, and have a stunning four minute per visitor hang time. We'd love to expand our coverage in all directions, but we need cash money to do so. We're looking for a single advertiser to help us grow. Someone with vision, money, respect for our editorial independence, money, a cool-looking ad and money. Interested parties please apply by email to robertfarago@hotmail.com. Thanks.

An electrical relay sitting in the front windscreen's rain gutter. Headliner that looks like mouse fur. Soft touch plastics that aren't. If you look closely at the new BMW 3-Series you'll see considerable evidence that Mercedes isn't the only German brand cutting corners at the low end of their lineup. But there's a difference: BMW says they let the whole obsessive compulsive construction thing slide so they could enlarge the 3-Series' performance envelope whilst holding the line on postage. In other words, they amped-up the driving dynamics rather than sweating the small stuff.

The new 3's helm justifies the justification. For far too long, BMW has pandered to America's [alleged] predilection for steering with all the feel and feedback of a Novocained bicuspid. Now, finally, The Boys from Bavaria have installed a rack-and-pinion tiller that rewards elbow grease with information. Whether you're giving it some mid-corner or jinking around a Volvo, the wheel tells you where you are in the pivoting process and what's happening underfoot. It makes driving, wait for it, fun. (Anyone who opts for Bimmer's anesthetic– I mean, active steering system loses all pistonhead privileges.)

Without any prompting whatsoever, my 11-year-old daughter took one look at the new Subaru B9 Tribeca and said 'ew'. And there you have it. Scooby's first-ever SUV is an irredeemably gruesome beast whose design should have been aborted a femtosecond after conception. While Subaru would like to convince us that "ugly ass" and "dynamic styling" are synonymous, even a pre-teen knows that repulsive is not, and never will be, the new cool. In the race for SUV buyers' affections, the horrific B9 sets off a mile behind the starting line.

Not to belabor the point, but who in their right mind would put a vagina on the nose of an SUV, and then accentuate the effect with wings and hood strakes AND make the shape stand proud of the grill? Yes, I know: the design reflects Fuji Heavy Industries' past as an airplane manufacturer. But they don't make airplanes anymore, and the ones they DID make attacked Pearl Harbor. While we're at it, the B9's rear resembles the face of a gigantic alien– which is only fitting. Other than its side profile, the B9's best viewing angle is high Earth orbit.

It may not have escaped GM watchers' notice that The General has just announced that it's selling 60% of the General Motors Acceptance Corporation's (GMAC) commercial mortgage division. This after agreeing to sell $55b worth of GMAC car loans to Bank of America. The bottom line is clear: The General is hawking the family silver. The only solidly profitable part of the entire corporation is being sold off piecemeal to increase GM's liquidity. It's the long-predicted beginning of the end.

Before we explore GM's rationale for the sale, it's critical to note the commercial division's new owners: Kohlberg Kravis Roberts & Co (KKR). This hugely profitable investment firm practically invented the leveraged buyout. KKR's MO: raise money through junk bonds (ironically enough), buy a large company, sell off underperforming assets, restructure the core business, cut costs and, eventually, re-sell the new, leaner company at a huge profit. KKR has sliced and diced Texaco, Gillette, Playtex, Beatrice, Safeway, Borden, Samsonite and Toys 'R' Us.

I should have seen it coming. How could GM flog its remaining '05 cars, trucks and SUV's at anything other than the Employee Discount for Everyone (EDFE) price? As we've said here before, you can't very well raise the price on an old product when its replacement is heading down the pike. Besides, Ford and Chrysler are continuing their Grab Your Checkbook and Work for Us programs through the summer. So the extension of GM's EDFE program until September 6th makes perfect sense. My bad for believing GM's public promises.

Speaking of which, The General is revving-up its "Total Value Promise" program. That's right, GM's post-fire sale 'Value Pricing' program has evolved. Originally, The General was simply going to lower '06 sticker prices to reflect the products' actual purchase price after [what would have been] incentives. Now, the automaker is saying they've "lowered prices, added features or redesigned over 50 GM models" so "you get more without paying more on the cars and trucks you really want."

And so General Motors turns to 'value pricing' to maintain the momentum created by its now defunct Employee Discount For Everyone (EDFE) program. OK, so what the Hell is value pricing? 'Value' is a subjective term. Stick it front of the word 'pricing' and the phrase simply indicates that someone somewhere thinks that a particular price is fair. Whether or not customers agree with The General's assessment will be revealed in a month or so. Meanwhile, let's try to find the truth behind this slippery concept…

This is what we know for sure: the official sticker price for GM's '06 models will be lower than the official sticker price for its '05 models. Whether or not the new sticker price will be significantly less than the EDFE price, or the pre-EDFA discounted price, is not yet clear. (To refresh your memory: the EDFE price represented a large discount from the official sticker price, but a relatively small discount from the actual, discounted price available before the EDFE program began. In a few rare cases, the EDFE price was actually higher than the discounted price.) More importantly, The General swears it will no longer slash prices to chase turnover and market share. The fire sales are finished.