I’m a fan of the underdog. I’m also a contrarian. And I hate red cars.

I marvel at the Espada’s transparent kammback, but then I think, “The Maserati Khamsin’s taillights floated in its transparent kammback, so, whatever, Espada.” I am insufferably jaded. Also, hungry for oysters.

From behind the narrow, quad-spoked steering wheel, the 1935 Mercedes-Benz 540K Special Roadster appears to be all hood. In fact, it is.

It even has the Clark plaid seats. All it needs is a golf-ball shifter.

Answering the world’s most intractable questions, as usual.

When feeling threatened, many major corporations–Hollywood movie studios, fast food restaurants, America–will mine their heritage for old ideas.

Answer: Money, and Joy

Jim Keyes finally found the perfect the Chevy Citation X-11. Then he decided to find all of them.

Mercedes’ latest extortionate concept makes a statement. And that statement is, “I am Red Skull.”

Stuffing turgid New World muscle into lithe European bodies is one of our favorite traditions.