Proponents of Chrysler’s current reinvention often refer to the exercise as a “surgical” bankruptcy. OK, who’s the surgeon? As far as I can tell, the people in charge of deciding how to cut-up Chrysler are Chrysler. “Physician heal thyself” is a nice sentiment, but it doesn’t normally involve a scalpel. Second, speed. When a patient is bleeding to death, time is of the essence. Chrysler is hemorrhaging red ink. It’s one thing to stop the bleeding (as Uncle Sam adds multi-billion dollar cash infusions). It’s another to attempt to cure the patient with a knife. And after the health care recipient leaves the theater, well, who expects an amputee to run a marathon? In other words, the operation may be a success, but the patient will still die.

The counterpoint: synergy. Or, to call it by its rightful name, “wishful thinking.” In the course of human history there must have been two huge companies working in a hideously complicated manufacturing enterprise who were able to integrate with each other and prove that the whole is greater than the sum of the parts. A partnership that delivered cost reductions though combined “back office” functions. More efficient and creative product development. Better sales and marketing. Streamlined management. A more productive workforce. It’s just that I can’t think of any.

[Renault – Nissan? The fact that this partnership works at all—and the jury’s still out—is down to the fact that the two companies tend to stay out of their each other’s way.]

It’s ironic that the American carmaker that forged a company-killing merger with a German automobile manufacturer almost eleven years ago to the day now wants US taxpayers, suppliers, creditors, workers, the media, etc. to accept the idea that Chrysler’s future is best served by merging with an Italian automobile manufacturer. To borrow an adjective from the non-TARPies court filing, that’s “incomprehensible.” Unless you try really hard to believe that someone isn’t stripping assets from someone else. To wit: The New York Times.

Fiat and Chrysler have much to offer each other. Chrysler desperately needs Fiat’s small cars and fuel-efficient engines to balance an aging lineup of S.U.V.’s.

For Fiat, Chrysler offers an instant dealership network for its return to the United States. They can also benefit from savings on the $46 billion worth of parts and materials they would buy as a combined entity.

The whole “ChryCo needs small cars” meme flies in the face of any realistic appraisal of commercial reality. Stateside, small cars a small part of a shrinking market; Chrysler needs small cars like a man dying of thirst desperately needs a shot glass of low-alcohol beer. Chrysler needs a mainstream model that generates enough profits to sustain their credibility the next time they call on the public purse. I mean, to repay their “loans.” Something like the Chrysler 300. Only a lot better.

The merger’s small car justification violates a pseudo-military maxim: go where they ain’t. Trying to sell small cars in a mature marketplace against highly-developed, well-entrenched competition is a Sisyphusian endeavor. GM’s failure to recapture its automotive mojo in its North American and European home markets—even while it succeeded outside of North America and Europe—proves the wisdom of the advice.

Besides, Chrysler already has small cars. Yes, they’re crap. But fixing ChryCo’s crap cars would be a lot less expensive and time consuming than hitting reset. Again. And that’s without adding Fiat’s cultural dissonance to the mix.

Clearly, there’s a political subtext to this supposed “desperation.” ChyrCo’s political overlords and their camp (not in the Batman TV series sense of the word) followers have a hard-on for American-built small cars/hybrids. To use an Obama-ism, they believe it’s “the right thing to do.” But even The Gray Lady understands that it’s probably not the most profitable thing to do; hence the SUV “balancing” remark.

As for the joint savings on parts, somebody somewhere’s smoking one. Three years after assuming control of Ford, CEO Alan Mulally still hasn’t fully realized his plan for parts worldwide parts commonality. Similarly, GM’s “world car” program has been a spectacular failure, delivering unto the world a seemingly endless stream of badge-engineered failures (e.g., Cadillac BLS), non-starters (e.g.,Pontiac G8) and nichemobiles (e.g., Chevrolet Camaro).

Just for S&G, figure Fiatsler will save ten percent on its $46 billion parts and materials tab. Split it two ways. That’s a $2.3 billion cost reduction. Which is not even half of Chrysler’s current cash burn. Or the United States government’s outstanding “loans” to the Auburn Hills zombie. This theoretical saving might pay for the bureaucracy needed to organize the two automakers’ parts integration. It might not. if history is any guide, any such attempt would end up costing money and delaying production.

So where’s the beef? Nowhere. The Chrysler – Fiat deal is one of those veggie burgers that only looks good—and then only to vegetarians. It sounds crazy, and it just won’t work.

Kathy writes:

Hi, Sajeev. A coworker recently bought a new commuter car. Not some fancy $25K+ sports car (under $20K “sporty” commuter car). He talked about breaking in the new engine hard for the first 120 miles: putting the auto into gears 1 and 2 and redlining it. Driving 0 to 120 to 0 to 120 mph.

Supposedly it makes the engine better. Where does the TTAC community stand on this: easy or hard break in for a new car?

Read More >

“G.M. is very different than Chrysler,” said Rahm Emanuel, President Obama’s chief of staff. “But I suppose the one lesson for G.M., and all the other players, is that this is a moment when a Democratic president said, ‘I am really willing to let a company dissolve, and there’s not going to be an open checkbook.’ There’s got to be real viability.” Huh? I was under the impression that this was the moment when a Democratic president said “I am NOT really willing to let a failed automaker dissolve. Uncle Sam’s checkbook is as open as a hooker’s gams. For the sake of political expediency, there’s got to be pretend viability.” Of course, it’s much worse than that. The White House has caught Detroit disease, where stupid decisions vie with no decisions for supremacy, leaving the status quo bruised and battered, but triumphant. 

Like the Motown moguls that the Presidential Task Force on Autos (PTFOA) protects, all the president’s car guys’ dementia began with an idee fixee. Unlike Chrysler and GM execs, the PTFOA’s starting point had nothing to do with ensuring that they could afford to fly first class to Gleneagles for a round of golf and a hot stone massage for the Mrs. It was a simple question: “How do we save these failed companies (a.k.a. union votes)?”

At that point, the PTFOA developed a massive hardon for federal intervention that’s lasted a lot longer than four hours. Bad craziness was a given.

For example, the bureaucrats running GM’s car business—giving a thumbs-up or thumbs-down on any transaction over $10 million—swear up, down and sideways they don’t want to run a car company. PTFOA boss Steve Rattner has publicly declared that his employer will not “interfere” with GM’s decisions about brands or products. This at the same time that the PTFOA is planning to convert $22.8b of GM’s federal “loans” (so far) into a controlling stake in a newly reconstituted GM. Even The New York Times wonders WTF that’s all about.

Members of Mr. Obama’s auto task force say that even after the government owns a majority of the company, it will have no role in management. That, they say, will be farmed out to professionals, the work supervised by government-appointed members of a new G.M. board.

That doesn’t even make sense. The federal government won’t be involved in GM’s management, but the federally appointed Board of Directors will. And that’s totally different because they’ll be independent, right? Even though they’ll serve at the government’s pleasure. Anyway, I guess we can be thankful that the PTFOA has no desire to farm out GM to amateurs—although God knows I’d put my money on my fellow armchair executives before I’d “invest” a single dime on a GM suit. You know; if I had a choice.

I’m completely confused by the PTFOA’s reluctance to roll up its sleeves and tell GM how to build what for whom, where, what brand to sell it under and how to sell it. I don’t want the feds to run GM. But if they are running it—and they are—how can they do so without getting down to brand and product-related decisions?

Truth be told, the car business is about . . . wait for it . . . cars. If the feds are “protecting the taxpayers’ investment” in GM, they should start by firing all the people who had anything to do with GM’s current brand and product plans—before they make any more. How in the world does anyone expect Fritz “the Wagoner Clone” Henderson to make the correct pre- and post-bankruptcy car-related decisions when the ex-CFO has shown no ability to do so in the past?

By the same token, not firing marketing maven Mark LaNeve is proof positive that the lunatics are still running the asylum. This is the man who ran eight GM brands into the ground, destroying any and all brand equity through a massive miasma of mixed messages. I wouldn’t let LaNeve write a Craigslist ad for my minivan, never mind control a $3 billion ad budget. Why has no one rid GM of this troublesome man?

Again, I’m not in favor of Uncle Sam running GM. Clearly, they don’t have the appetite or the aptitude for the job. But as the Brits say, it’s time for the PTFOA to piss or get off the pot. Either the quango should take full responsibility for GM’s product-related plans (please, God, no) or offload this entire mess on someone else (liquidation or cough-Nissan-cough).

Either way, an immediate palace putsch would be a damn fine idea. Given that the PTFOA has already shit-canned GM’s CEO, there’s no reason to delay a more thorough housecleaning. Every day that the PTFOA allows GM’s current management to chart the automaker’s course makes reversing their lunacy more expensive. And less likely.

Even the most even-handed comparison tests reflect a specific set of specifically weighted criteria. Then there are those that aren’t even-handed. Car comparison tests don’t come much more tilted than the “Camaro vs. Genesis” comparison test in the June 2009 Car and Driver.

Let’s begin with the cover, which shows the Camaro nosing ahead of the Hyundai on a track and includes three bits of information on each car. The first, base prices: $23K for the Chevrolet Camaro, $26K for the Hyundai Genesis Coupe. Open the magazine and you’ll find that C&D rejected a Camaro LS for its awful upholstery and mediocre tires. Upgrade to the LT, like they did, and two-thirds of the Camaro’s price advantage goes away. Adjust for remaining feature differences, and the cars’ prices are generally only a few hundred dollars apart.

Next on the cover, fuel economy: 29 MPG for the Camaro, 26 MPG for the Hyundai. EPA highway figures, of course. The city figures are an identical 17. In C&D’s testing, the Hyundai went slightly farther on a gallon of gas.

The third bit of information, horsepower: 304 for the Camaro, 306 for the Genesis Coupe. Not as potentially misleading as the other two bits. And yet, unsaid on the cover: the Camaro is over 300 pounds heavier. The Hyundai has a significantly better power-to-weight ratio.

In the actual comparo, the Camaro wins (as suggested by the cover photo). By a single point. Actually check the details, and you’ll find that, despite the connotations of that cover photo, the Camaro trailed the Genesis Coupe in every track test—acceleration, handling and braking—sometimes by a substantial margin. Moving to the subjective scoring, C&D rated the Genesis Coupe more “fun to drive” by a not insignificant two points. They note a few times that the Camaro feels too big because of its size, mass, and small windows, and that it doesn’t invite precise steering inputs.

So how did the Genesis Coupe lose? First, ride quality—affected by the optional Track Package on the car C&D tested. The buff book notes that they cycled through three Camaro test vehicles before settling on the one they liked best for the test. Why, then, didn’t they also evaluate the Genesis Coupe without the Track Package?

Even the four point spread in ride quality––a huge difference as scoring in these tests tends to go––wasn’t enough to fully erase the Hyundai’s lead in nearly every other category. To give the Camaro a one-point victory, C&D resorted to the score of last resort: “gotta have it.” The reviewers gave the new Chevrolet Camaro a monstrous six-point advantage. That’s 22 vs. 16, out of 25 in a 110% subjective category.

To put it bluntly, the Camaro won this comparison test because, in C&D’s estimation, people want it more. Chalk one up to the power of a name and an effective PR campaign. [ED: Or ad revenue.]

Even if we grant that “gotta have it” belongs in the scoring table at all––and I don’t, since I’d rather a test compare what the cars are like to look at, sit in, and drive and not the model name or the PR––the Hyundai’s 16 is crazy low for a car that offers so much performance for a price in the mid-$20s.

The issue includes one other comparison test, between the BMW 328i, Infiniti G37, Audi A4 2.0T and Acura TL. The TL, the least “gotta have” car in that test, with far more faults than strengths, received a 16. The Infiniti and Audi both received 20s. In the context of these scores, the Genesis Coupe’s 16 doesn’t hold water.

And the Camaro V6’s 22? Yes, there’s a lot of interest in the new Camaro, but generally for the V8. Maybe that’s why they couldn’t go all the way to 25, and so had to dock the Genesis Coupe’s “gotta have it” score to carve out the desired margin?

No disrespect meant to the Camaro. If it handles anything like the Pontiac G8 with which it shares a platform, it’s a fun car, and it looks great. I’ve driven neither car yet myself and have no predisposition in favor of either. In other words, I’m no fanboy or hater.

My focus here has been strictly on the fairness of the test. And this is the most tilted comparison test I’ve come across in a long time. In the end, “gotta have it” is like the “reviewer’s tilt” score used by gamespot.com when reviewing games. It’s being used to ensure that the car the reviewers want to win actually wins, despite what the other scores happen to be.

Fate intervened. I wasn’t going to do another Chrysler product CC for a while, after the two recent Plymouths. But there I was tooling down West 11th when I spotted this red Chrysler up ahead. When I finally got next to him at a light, I waved my camera and gestured if he would pull over for a shoot. A nod of assent followed. But he kept burbling along, and I began to wonder. Suddenly, he pulled into the Lane Memorial Gardens. How fitting. Read More >

GM’s investors and bondholders have taken their lumps. The value of their investments have plummeted and they’ve been blamed for enabling GM’s mismanagement. Hedge fund managers and institutional investors are not the most popular people in the wake of the financial meltdown so it’s easy to forget that many investors are not Wall Street wheeler dealers, but regular folks with investments.

Patricia St. Pierre is a nice lady. She and her husband Cliff worked hard, raised a family, got their kids through college and retired on their investments. They live on Grosse Ile, a comfortable island suburb downriver of Detroit. She’s 70 now and she’s worried about having to go back to work because their life savings may be wiped out in a GM bankruptcy.

Mrs. St. Pierre and her husband have what she calls a “large amount” invested in unsecured GM bonds. The St. Pierres attended a meeting at Warren’s town hall, across the street from GM’s Tech Center with other individual bond holders on Thursday as the President was announcing the bankruptcy of crosstown rival Chrysler. When I asked her how she came to own the bonds, she said that they had moved to bonds during a downturn in the stock market with their mutual funds. They wanted to try “something that was safe”.

They initially did well with Ford bonds but moved to GM debt three years ago when Ford seemed to be at greater risk than GM. As their broker told them, “you don’t think they’ll ever be out of business.” That same reason is why they haven’t sold before now. They also didn’t know at first that the debt was unsecured. Then the bottom fell out last fall. “Everything turned on a dime.”

Though neither has worked for the company in years, the St. Pierres have ties to GM. Her father is a GM retiree and she worked for GM right out of high school for seven years. Cliff St. Pierre graduated from the General Motors Institute. LIke GMI grads back in the day he worked as an intern at GM and then started his career there.

The St. Pierres live off the income from their investments and Patricia acknowledged that they’ve earned interest since owning the bonds, but they face losing all the principal since the bonds are unsecured. GM has offered debt holders 225 shares of stock in a reorganized GM in exchange for $1000 of the $27 billion in debt GM owes, plus whatever accrued interest the bonds have at this point. If they don’t accept the deal, GM will declare bankruptcy and they’ll get nothing.

The stock offered to bondholders will represent 10% of GM’s equity. Stockholders, punished for enabling a feckless board of directors, will own 1 percent of GM stock. The government will own 50 percent of GM, and the UAW’s VEBA will own the remaining 39 percent.

One thing that troubles the St. Pierres the most is that they are being left completely out of the loop and not informed by either GM or the government. While the large bondholders are negotiating with and in constant contact with GM and the Presidential Task Force on Automobiles (PTFOA), the St. Pierres haven’t heard a thing except for the most recent prospectus from GM.

There is nobody in the process representing their interests. They’ve contacted Senators Stabenow and Levin to complain but their elected officials haven’t been very reassuring. They feel pretty helpless. Their broker doesn’t really know any more than they do. The St. Pierres aren’t destitute, but you could hear the worry in her voice. “I’m glad my kids aren’t about to graduate (high school) and go to college.”

While it can be argued that they took a risk and lost their bet, the government cutting in line ahead of other prior creditors creates a huge dilemma for investors, investors that may be you, your neighbors and your family members. As Cliff St. Pierre said, “who will want to buy bonds?” Who will want to invest if the government is going to step in and declare your investment virtually worthless?

Some say that GM’s stakeholders, management, the UAW, shareholders and bondholders, all deserve blame for the company’s decline, but the bondholders and stockholders, while perhaps giving management too little oversight, played by well defined rules, the rules and laws we’ve used to become the wealthiest society in the planet’s history. Now the President is rewriting the rules.

When I asked her who she thought would protect her interests more, the administration in Washington or a bankruptcy judge, Patricia laughed ruefully and said the bankruptcy judge. She’s not happy about the government owning GM. GM’s bondholders, after all, do have a bigger investment in the company than the government. “It’s not a good situation,” she said.

It doesn’t seem that long ago that General Motors was pouring billions of dollars into Cadillac in a bid to create a line of world-class luxury cars. American enthusiasts rejoiced. Now, with GM on the verge of bankruptcy, all signs point to a full-scale retreat. Assuming GM pulls through, within the next five years it will kill Buick outside China–or at least kill its Lexian aspirations—and shift Cadillac downmarket into a “near luxury” position.

Cadillac’s bid for a return to greatness met with an early success. The 2003 CTS’ angular styling might have polarized opinions, but it made a strong statement and grabbed everyone’s attention. The car’s performance suggested that GM was capable of developing a first-rate rear-wheel-drive sport sedan.

The Escalade sold well, but its pushrod powerplant and antiquated chassis did not fit Cadillac’s new mission. A DOHC-powered, independently suspended crossover would be much more fitting. Problem was, in the late 1990s it was hard to tell what would make for a successful crossover. Should the proportions be those of an SUV, or more like those of a station wagon? Cadillac opted for the latter, while the market opted for the former. Combine wagonesque proportions with a BMW-like price, and the 2004 SRX flopped.

The 2004 XLR roadster was sharply styled, but insufficiently luxurious and (like the SRX) over-priced. Perhaps emboldened by the CTS’ success, Cadillac convinced itself that it could give subsequent models Teutonic prices from the start—a bad move. Both Toyota with the original LS 400 and Hyundai with the Genesis recognized that new entries must start low. If they sell, then you can raise the price. So the XLR became strike two.

The CTS had carved out a spot vis-a-vis the BMW 3-Series. Could a rear-wheel-drive Seville replacement do the same against the 5-Series? First, newly hired car czar Bob Lutz delayed the STS. Not a fan of Cadillac’s new look, he ordered that the STS’ greenhouse be redone to add tumblehome—even though such a major change late in the process cost tens of millions of dollars.

Though perhaps an improvement, the revised design both failed to be beautiful and failed to make a strong statement. The interior, though more luxurious than that of the CTS, was still not luxurious enough for the STS’ richer target market, and its styling was boringly conventional. The market yawned, and stuck with the imports. Strike three.

Hyper-expensive supercharged STS-V and XLR-V variants were little more than a distraction. If the basic product isn’t a winner, adding power isn’t going to make it one.

Lutz’ desire to offer a production version of the gargantuan 13.6-liter Sixteen? To those thinking with their heads, the Sixteen seemed overly ambitious and a poor use of corporate resources. Before it could realistically attempt a statement like the Sixteen, Cadillac first needed to succeed not only with the STS but with a never approved S-Class competitor. In retrospect, this embodiment of the Detroit executive ego seems downright ridiculous.

Back in the real world, Cadillac’s upmarket adventure was dealt a fatal blow when the STS failed to carve out a beachhead north of $50,000. In the aftermath, Cadillac couldn’t decide what to do next. Plans to replace both the STS and DTS with a large rear-wheel-drive luxury sedan wandered this way and that, then died. The V8 that would have powered this car met the same fate. Hyundai could field a competitive DOHC V8. Detroit would not.

Yes, the redesigned 2008 CTS has been a hit and deservedly so. But you can’t base a luxury brand on one $35,000 model.

At the same time, Cadillac can’t simply return to where it used to be. The DTS has solidered on, but sales have slowed to a trickle. With the Zeta-based replacement canceled, and no new large front-wheel-drive platform in the pipeline, Cadillac could simply abandon the large luxury sedan segment. With the collapse of the conventional SUV market, the Escalade also seems unlikely to live on in its current form.

So, whither Cadillac? With the foray into Teutonic territory one for four, and no funds for another round, Cadillac’s target must shift from the Germans to entry-level Lexus. For 2010, the SRX switches to an Equinox-related front-wheel-drive platform. Next up: a LaCrosse-based sedan. After that: perhaps a Lambda-based Escalade.

In short, Cadillac’s new focus will be Buick’s current focus: front-wheel-drive-based, comfort-biased vehicles with transaction prices in the thirties to low forties. If the two aren’t to overlap, Buick will either have to shimmy closer to Chevy or become China-only. Among the many casualties of GM’s meltdown, this forced acceptance of Cadillac’s second-tier status could be the saddest. Even Lincoln, which beat a similar retreat post-Nasser, could emerge with a stronger product line.

Want to remember Cadillac at its final zenith? Buy a 2009 CTS-V.

Heathroi writes:

Remember the Focus with the wandering rear that I thought (ha!) might need lower profile tires?

Well as an update, it didn’t need tires at all. It needed new bushings all though the rear suspension. Which turned into a mammoth job of taking the rear suspension apart, cutting rusted bolts, frequent trips to the ford dealer for new control arms and lower A arms but back together in working order, like its new again.

Read More >

Announcing Chrysler’s bankruptcy, President Obama vilified the “investment firms and hedge funds” who decided to “hold out for the prospect of an unjustified taxpayer funded bailout.” No, not the existing unjustified taxpayer funded bailout. The new one. “Some demanded twice the return that we bludgeoned the other TARP-supported lenders into accepting.” Obama didn’t say that; but he would have if his daughter had made the same birthday wish as Max Reede. Anyway, it turns out the Presidential Task Force on Automobiles can’t stand losing, they can’t they can’t they cant stand losing, they can’t they can’t they can’t stand losing to hedge funds. “I don’t stand with those who held out when everybody else is making sacrifices,” Obama chided con multo vigore. As intended, Obama’s remarks triggered a shit storm from both his supporters and the business community.

“U.S. Tactics Spark Worries Over Lenders’ Rights” The Wall Street Journal reports/warns.

Banks, hedge funds and other investors that hold $6.9 billion in secured loans are being asked to release their contractual claims over Chrysler’s assets in exchange for a fraction of what they are owed. Many lenders see that as a raw deal, because in the bankruptcy code’s priority scheme, secured creditors are supposed to get paid before unsecured creditors such as employees.

Remember when Congressman Barney Frank confronted an expert on bankruptcy law during the second round of the so-called bailout hearings? [link help?] When the witness said it would be illegal for the feds to jump the queue to recover bailout bucks, Frank suggested that Congress could rewrite those pesky laws because, well, Congress wrote them (never mind the Constitution or common sense). Well, here we go . . .

Investors worry the government-led plan could rewrite the rulebook on corporate restructurings and the entitlements of creditors. They say that could make lending more expensive for corporations, while crimping lenders’ willingness to get involved with companies that have a connection to the government.

As of late Wednesday, about 20 of the 46 lenders were opposed to the government plan, according to a statement from a group of debtholders. If more than half the lenders oppose the reorganization, the Chrysler deal could be stuck in bankruptcy court for far longer than the government hopes.

Or not. After all, you have the President of the United States deciding with whom he does and doesn’t stand in a legal proceeding. Could the Prez use his political power to gazump secured debt holders? Yes he can! And that’s when this could get really, really ugly.

Of course, there are those who see beauty in the face of Gorgon (stoned as they are). How about Salon’s “A sob story from the vultures who forced Chrysler into bankruptcy.”

According to reporter Serena Ng, Gwin, the “principal” of the Group G Capital hedge fund, “is wrestling with the knowledge that the retirement plans of some 80,000 Americans may rest in his hands.” 

Spare us the sob story, [Chrysler investor] Geoffrey Gwin. You’re in this game to make money by speculating on the bonds of companies that are in big financial trouble. Now you’ve found yourself smack in the middle of a major political showdown between a pissed-off public and a Wall Street that hasn’t had this little credibility since 1929. Too bad for you. Good luck sweet-talking the judge.

The Washington Post is down with that “reasoning.”

What you need to know about these vultures is that their idea of fairness is throwing 100,000 people out of work and denying retirees their pensions and their health benefits just so they can liquidate the company and maybe squeeze an extra 15 cents on the dollar from their Chrysler debt.

As you might expect, The Huffington Post is just as huffy.

On the 101st day of his Presidency, Barack Obama finally slapped the hedge funds across the face like they deserved . . . The President’s message was this: when labor, management, and taxpayers of multiple nations have stepped up to bat, the American public will not be held hostage by hedge fund managers stalling for profits. That is the message. And it is a message Americans have been waiting patiently to hear.”

As over 70 percent of the public opposed providing additional bailout billions to Detroit, I thought they were patiently waiting to hear that the United States government was getting out of the car business. If so, in this they were disappointed.

As in any good zombie movie, Chrysler’s liquidation—the only “viable” or indeed probable outcome in this—depends on a hero who stands for truth, justice and yes, the American way. In other words, it’s all coming down to the judge Arthur J. Gonzalez.

And who chose Gonzalez? Art got the nod via a sealed envelope system known as “the wheel.” It is, literally, a wheel of fortune. You can’t make this shit up. Nor the confrontation to follow.

Chrysler’s logo should have been a bottle of lithium, rather than the Pentastar. It suffered from severe bipolar disorder all its life, and, sadly, died from it at its own hands. Like many suicidal bipolars (e.g., Van Gogh, Hemingway, Virgina Woolf), Chrysler’s many crashes and acts of self-mutilation were punctuated by fantastic highs of brilliant engineering, design and creativity. Chrysler has taken us on quite the roller coaster ride. And now it’s over. As we stumble out of our (Hemi-powered) coaster car, we’re left with an intense mixture of relief, thrill, and sadness.

Chrysler’s beginning was an unparalleled flash of genius and overnight success. Walter P. Chrysler had a fairy-tale career in the early automobile business, earning $10 million ($130 million today) in just three years while turning Buick into GM’s early powerhouse. Then, while running Maxwell, he launched the Chrysler line in 1924 with that just-perfect blend of advanced engineering and style.

It was a home run that catapulted Chrysler to number four out of a crowded field of 49 manufacturers. The subsequent successful launches of the low-price Plymouth, the upper-mid priced DeSoto, and the purchase of mid-priced Dodge firmly established Chrysler as a charter member of the Big Three.

Chrysler’s first crisis came in 1934 with the failure of the radically advanced but unusual-looking Airflow. Its wholesale rejection by the buying public taught Chrysler (and Detroit) a painful lesson: avoid extreme innovation.

Chrysler recuperated and made enormous profits during the WWII era. But the development of the all-new 1949 models was haunted by Chrysler’s still-lingering Airflow insecurities. Whereas GM and Ford confidently introduced longer and lower models designed to thrill exuberant post-was buyers, Chrysler president P. T. Keller insisted on tall, boxy cars.

In the early fifties, Americans were in the mood for more—horsepower, automatics, power steering and brakes, style, and flash. Unlike Chevy and Ford, Plymouth offered none of those, and the market punished it unmercifully. In 1954, Plymouth was kicked out of its long-established number three spot by Buick and dropped to number five behind Pontiac.

The exuberant designer Virgil Exner was hired to inject vitality and fresh style. The 1955s were an improvement, but the radical 1957s were destined to be the great leap forward (“suddenly it’s 1960!”). But in the rush to revolutionize, the products were not fully developed, and suffered from atrocious build quality.

The flashy ’57s sold, but word got out and buyers punished Chrysler unmercifully. 1958 sales plunged by no less than 41% for Plymouth. And despite a reputation for engineering excellence, Chrysler would have to dodge a reputation for spotty build quality from then on, deserved or not.

Chrysler nursed itself to health once more, only to be deeply wounded by one of the most staggeringly idiotic acts of executive self-mutilation. In 1960, Chrysler president William Newberg overheard a rumor at a cocktail party that Chevrolet was working on a dramatically smaller 1962 model (it was: the compact Chevy II).

In a colossal blunder, he assumed this referred to the full-sized Chevrolets. Newberg killed development of the full size 1962 Plymouths and Dodges and initiated a crash program for substantially downsized replacements. When the ugly, truncated ’62s were first shown to dealers, an uproar ensued, and twenty dealers cancelled their franchises on the spot. Plymouth crashed to ninth place, while GM’s market share rose to an all-time peak of 52%.

Chrysler barely survived the fiasco but went on to enjoy a relatively long spell of good health from the mid-60s through 1974, in part thanks to its successful performance image. But with a portfolio of heavy RWD cars and lacking the foresight, will (and capital) to retool extensively, Chrysler was flattened by the one-two punch of the energy crises. By 1979, it was back on the critical list, saved from bankruptcy only by the life-support of a government loan-guarantee act.

This financed the compact K-car; Chrysler squeaked by and regained health, once again. Endless K-car variants carried the day. When the 1990 recession brought on another depression, Iaccoca was shown the door.

In the mid-nineties, Chrysler was on its ultimate manic high. Low overhead costs from its near-bankruptcy, some deft model development, the purchase of Jeep, and sheer luck (the boom of the truck and SUV markets) generated huge profits and a 23% market share in 1997 (bigger than GM’s recently). But at the very height of health and success, the suicidal urges return.

In 1998, CEO Robert Eaton had Chrysler engage in ritual corporate seppuku by selling itself to Daimler (while walking away with over $200 million himself). And despite all of Dr. Z’s ministrations, the patient never really regained lasting health. Was there arsenic in the Daimler medicine?

There’s a market for corpses, and Cerberus bit with all three heads at once. And choked.

Well, the fat lady done sung. Only it was a thin president who ended TTAC’s Chrysler Suicide Watch. Lucky for us (if no one else), the Prez also promised to keep the dead automaker alive, through a fresh injection of federal funds. Obama didn’t specify the price tag for this zombification, but the bidding starts with the familiar “b” word, and octo-mom would recognize the number. As you know, Obama justified his ongoing intervention in Chrysler’s journey to liquidation by pimping the un-dead (now dead) American automaker to Italy’s own automotive English patient. So it’s time to get on with the business of tearing the Fiat “merger” idea to shreds. In this unenviable (but gainful) task, I’m aided by Jennifer Clark of the Dow Jones News Service. Jenny’s Chrysler-on-the-block piece arrives under the odd title “Chrysler Chapter 11 Filing May Aid Fiat Turnaround.” Go figure.

Miss Clark’s analysis begins with some Detroit News-like cheerleading from a hand-picked optimist. “A Chrysler bankruptcy filing could be a wonderful opportunity for Fiat,” said Jerry Reisman, a bankruptcy lawyer at Reisman, Peirez & Reisman, who predicts a speedy procedure. “All of Chrysler’s debt will be dealt with in court, so Fiat will know exactly what it’s buying. It will be a new Chrysler.”

It’s a shame Reisman wasn’t my divorce lawyer. Or, conversely, it’s a blessing. The Chrysler C11 case will involve hundreds of Chrysler creditors. Thousands of Chrysler dealers. Dozens of Chrysler debt holders. And they’ll all be represented by Reisman’s colleagues AND hamstrung by a building full of megalomaniacal bureaucrats. Reisman’s faith that a bankruptcy judge will sort this Fiat-finagled farrago in short order is almost as delusional as Chrysler’s initial hopes for the Sebring.

And the clock is ticking. “How will the company keep going for 18 or 24 months until the new product is brought to market?” asked Mark Fulthorpe, director of European vehicle forecast at CSM Worldwide. “They can’t rely on the U.S. government.” Silly me; I thought that was the whole point. But point taken. Even if Chrysler’s new boss opts for a short-term “solution” to the automaker’s glaring lack of commercially appealing products—say, by slapping a Chrysler badge on an imported Fiat—the federalization process required is neither cheap nor fast.

If, heaven forfend, the Presidential Task on Automobiles (PTFOA) bullies the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration (NHTSA) to relax its rules on product safety, Chrysler would still be SOL (shit out of luck). The move would open the way for Ford to bring over its Euro-models, which would slaughter Fiat’s models in the market.

Or not. There is no proof that anyone’s European models would do well in the US and plenty of indication that the exact opposite is true (Merkur much?) Otherwise, plan B (or plan A as it’s called) calls for retooling American factories to build Fiats. Huh? Why not just improve current Chrysler models? If American automakers should have learned one thing from this debacle, it’s that the constant pursuit of the next big thing puts an automaker on a hiding to nowhere.

And then there are the cultural problems. Let’s assume that the PTFOA is calling the shots at post-C11 Chrysler (only because it is). So now they have to ming with Fiat. And Chrysler’s new CEO (to be named later). And the United Auto Workers. Let’s also assume they can all work together in perfect harmony. Quickly, efficiently and, above all, profitably. And while we’re at it, let’s assume that someone makes a non-fat, low-calorie ice cream that tastes better than Häagen–Dazs ice cream for, I dunno, half the price. Yum.

Funny thing about Häagen–Dazs: it’s a made-up name created by two Polish immigrants in the Bronx. But the branding is killer. As is Chrysler’s, only in the literal sense of the word. Even with Barack Obama personally guaranteeing Chrysler’s warranties, the automaker’s Chapter 11 is the kiss of death. On a corpse, if we’re going down the icky route.

I know: I recommended a ChryCo C11 at the start of the old series. Well, as any S.E. Hinton fan will tell you, that was then, this is now. Now that Detroit has used up all its goodwill by sucking up seemingly endless (’cause they are) subsidies, the stench of bankruptcy is overpowering. If buyers avoided Chrysler like the plague before, they will now avoid the Auburn Hills zombie like Ebola. Which, coincidentally, ends with a vowel, Italian style.

Counterpoint! “Carlos Ghosn proves it can be done: Ghosn is chief executive of France’s Renault SA and alliance partner Nissan Motor Co. of Japan.” Yes and no. Ghosn brought Nissan back to life, but he didn’t do it by selling rebadged (or retooled) Renaults in the US market. He did it the hard way, through evolution, over time. And Nissan still got slammed by the economic meltdown.

Nope. Chrysler is an evolutionary dead end, a walking zombie waiting for the marketplace to blow its head off. And TTAC will be there.