I swear I had no intention of performing a drifting demonstration outside my step-daughter's school gates. In a prior attempt to gain a little mid-corner throttle control, I'd switched off the computerized handling Nanny. And then forgot all about it. So when I attempted to merge with the after-camp traffic, I suddenly found myself laying down a good 20 feet of rubber, in a decidedly sideways fashion.

Needless to say, that was not an example of driving in the traditional Mercedes manner. One wafts in one's Merc. But let's face facts: the C-Class appeals to a younger, thrustier demographic. Turning a plain Jane C into a demented German hot rod can't piss away the model's air of emotionally reserved exclusivity– it never had any in the first place. So it's damn the brand, full speed ahead!

Naming a sports car an "S2000" was not an auspicious start for Honda's open-top pocket rocket. It probably sounded way cool at the time, but it's SO four years ago. And yet the little roadster still has its supporters. Earlier this year, Car and Driver magazine included the Honda in their "10 Best Cars", calling it "pure and involving". Me, I call it old and aggravating.

I find the average pickup truck’s buckboard ride and apple cart handling a constant source of wonder. If they can put a man on the moon, why can’t they put the lunar rover’s suspension on a pickup truck? Yes, I know: if you want to carry heavy things, coil/leaf suspension is your only option. But why would anyone who doesn’t schlep stuff for a living actually choose to drive a pickup?

Toyota claims the xB is "all about attitude". Roger that. Anyone willing to drive a van that causes children to point and laugh– and let's be clear about this: the kids are laughing AT the xB, not WITH it—needs a bullet-proof 'tude. Maybe that's why Toyota markets the xB under its youth-oriented Scion brand: the company reckons that only the arrogance of youth could protect an xB owner from the constant snorts of derision garnered by this, this, thing. And yet…

Unlike the Pontiac Aztek, an SUV so gruesome it turns onlookers to stone, the xB is not a heavy-handed pastiche. Sure, there's a bit of bread van, a touch of funeral hearse, a soupcon of the old mini, a hint of an industrial air conditioning unit. But the xB is what it is, in a non-apologetic kind of way. If you like owning something "distinctive", well, Scion's boxy four-door is certainly that. The xB is at least as visually arresting as a Ferrari, Bentley or Aston— for $14k.

When Porsche decided they needed a cash cow in the shape of an SUV, they built a brand new truck and stuck a 911 face on it. The Cayenne isn't exactly what you'd call pretty, but there's genuine Porsche engineering underneath. When the fast-growing Saab brand decided to enter the American SUV fray, parent company GM took a different approach. They stuck a Swedish nose on a Trailblazer/Envoy, made some suspension mods, angled the instruments towards the driver, put the ignition between the seats and called it good.

To be fair, Saab swears on its smorgasbord that the 9-7X has brand-specific driving dynamics. Hmmm. Good as it is, a Porsche Cayenne still drives like a truck, not a 911 or Boxster. By the same token, a lowered and stiffened Envoy isn't likely to handle like a front-wheel-drive turbocharged Saab sedan. Besides, no matter how many Swedish engineers were involved, no matter how Scandinavian the driving experience, can you really call the gas-loving 9-7X a genuine Saab when it won't even be sold in Sweden? What the Hell happened to national automotive identity?

Find an open stretch of highway, floor the Mercedes S55 and you'll soon know what it means to kompress the time/space continuum. There's a small pause and a gentle jerking sensation– as the five-speed gearbox kicks down and the supercharger spools up. And then the AMG-fettled sedan launches itself at the horizon with a single, seamless blast of forward thrust. Any doubt that the massive S55 can obliterate time with acceleration dissipates the moment you watch the speedo arc gracefully past 140 miles per hour, and keep on going.

I guess that's what happens when the Württemberg Wirbelwinds stuff 493 horses and 516ft.-lbs. of torque under the hood of an S-Class sedan. Even in these horsepower mad times, when a stock pickup truck can out-drag a 60's Ferrari, that's a lot of grunt. It's enough shove to put Mercedes' 5.5-liter V8-powered leviathan on a par with a Porsche 911. (Both sprint from 0 to 60 in 4.6 seconds.) No wonder the technician who builds the S55's supercharged powerplant signs his name on the engine; Guido Nordheim wants you to know who owns your adrenal glands.

I called up Ford the other day. Apparently, they're still keen on putting Volvo, Land Rover, Jaguar and Aston Martin under one roof. Talk about weird. Passion dead people who want to stay alive buy Volvos. People who really do honestly intend to take their off-roader off-road someday (or at least drive it when it's snowing) buy Landies. Aspiring plutocrats buy Jags. People with more Mercedes than sense (i.e. people who don't mind when bits of their second car fall off) buy Astons. It's about as logical a mix as muesli, venison, Pimms and cocaine.

Apparently, it's not the forecourt from Hell. It's Ford Motor Company's Premium Automotive Group! Discriminating buyers who want the best, um, status safety off-road sports car can find it— or them—under one roof. PAG plans for each super dealership to feature a "Motor land" test-driving facility. Customers will have the opportunity to try out the car of their choice on an oval track or an off-road course. God forbid someone should take a wrong turn and drive an XKR-R off-road, or a Defender around a proper corner. If it sounds confusing, that's because it is.

Pistonheads believe cars have personality, character and yes, soul. Putting the pedal to the metal in a Cadillac CTS-V, it's hard not to agree. The 5.7-liter powerplant bellows, the tires squirm and the V charges at the horizon with all the determination of an enraged bull heading for a matador's cape. Redline Caddy's 400-horse four-door and she'll give you everything she's got. And man, she's got a lot. The V rockets from zero to sixty in 4.7 seconds and completes the ¼ mile in 13.1. If the V was a bull, I'd want to be one very fast matador.

Amazingly, the CTS-V is not all about brute force. Unlike its rip-snorting cousins– the Dodge Viper, Chevrolet Corvette and Dodge SRT10– the V is a seriously agile whip. As hard as it is to comprehend, the CTS-V, a Cadillac, could well be America's finest handling car. Yes folks, it's true: Detroit has finally produced a car to rival a BMW.

Here's a question: why would anyone want a pickup truck that accelerates from 0 to 60 in 5.2 seconds? Don't most people prefer a flatbed that's comfortable or practical or reliable or fuel efficient or… something other than monstrously quick? What's the point of a Porsche-killing pickup?

Bragging rights. Drivers of the Dodge Ram SRT-10 bask in the knowledge that they're behind the wheel of the world's fastest pickup truck. And by God, they want everyone to know it. And by God, they will. Anyone who stands eyeball-to-eyeball with an SRT-10 will be in no doubt that The Dodge Boys' uber-pickup is in a league of its own.

Every now and then a car comes along that turns convention on its head. Cadillac's CTS-V is a perfect example. Who would have thought that the foremost proponent of the floaty-drifty school of handling would produce a sports sedan with sharper reflexes than a BMW 5-Series? The Chrysler 300C is another case in point. The last thing you'd expect from Daimler Chrysler, a traditional Detroit automaker with German masters, is a bad-ass gangsta-mobile.

The 300C was built for a drive-by shooter. Its narrow, high-set windows look more like gun slits than casements. Its gigantic "egg crate" prow projects a distinct air of physical menace. Slab sides, sharp creases and sheer bulk complete the "urban assault vehicle" design theme. Not to put too fine a point on it, what player wouldn't want to roll up in a car with such stylish malevolence?

The instant you fire-up BMW's new 645Ci, a chime buried deep in the dash rings out. "BLING!" In fact, it does it twice: BLING! BLING! Point taken. From its backlit kick panels, to the chrome "eyelids" over the kidney-shaped grills, to the gigantic wheels and tires filling massive, flared arches, the 645Ci boasts more street […]

Fancy a game of "spot the triangle"? The RX8 wants to play. I spotted a triangle between the exhausts, in the front spoiler, embedded in the bonnet, under the headrests and on the top of the gear lever. They're there to remind us that Mazda's top-shelf sports car has a rotary engine, which consists of two triangle-shaped rotors, four spark plugs and… that's about it. So what? Most drivers wouldn't care if their car was powered by racing hamsters – just as long as it doesn't break.

As you might expect from a car with a four-year, 50,000-mile, bumper-to-bumper warranty, the RX8 is reliable enough. Any doubts about this singular machine centre on its performance and handling, rather than its quirky propulsion. Sports car buyers want to know one thing: how's it drive? To which the only possible answer is "like a motorcycle".

Nostalgia ain't what it used to be. Once upon a time, brand heritage kept customers loyal. "I'm a Chevy man" actually meant something. These days, Chevrolet sells a Korean compact with about as much Chevy DNA as a Manchurian ring-necked pheasant. Ford's offers a retro-Thunderbird whose driving dynamics, ergonomics and style would have found few takers in 1955. And the new Pontiac GTO is a distant cousin of the old GTO, adopted and twice removed.

The original GTO started life in 1964 as option 382 on a Pontiac Tempest LeMans. Two-hundred and ninety-five dollars bought a bigger engine (389 cubic inches) and air scoops (non-functional). The new GTO is an Australian coupe, slightly modified for the US market, with a 5.7-liter V8. In other words, if you're a heritage freak looking for a connection between the old "goat" and the new, don't bother. Unlike its illustrious predecessor, the new GTO has no kinship with any other Pontiac automobile made, ever.

There's a sticker in the new BMW 5-Series that tells you everything you need to know about the mid-sized motorcar. This permanent post-it, affixed just beneath the infamous iDrive controller, has a tiny arrow pointing left and the words "Climate, Air Dist. and Vent Temp". Before iDrive, BMW drivers adjusted the vent temperature with a […]

When GM dropped off a Cadillac CTS, the car came pre-loaded with a CD by rapper Obie Trice. I somehow doubt the General figured a taste of gangsta lyrics would help me understand Cadillac's brand transformation. Still, point taken. There was a time when a Caddy wouldn't function without a Carpenters' 8-track turning its middle-aged […]