P. J. O’Rourke takes the decline of the American car personally. And not just because his family has sold Buicks for three generations. In his latest book Driving Like Crazy, O’Rourke sees the very story of our nation written in the crazy, chrome-clad arc of American automobilia. From “the sheer genius that transformed the 1908 Model T into the 1965 Shelby Cobra GT500 in a single human lifetime of speeding tickets” to the industry’s decades-long “sayonara,” O’Rourke reflects on where we’ve been and what we drove to get there. But he also knows that cars are about more important things than mere cultural and political commentary. They’re about fun. Fast fun. Busting axles in Baja fun. Pointing a big, noisy car at the horizon and burying the gas pedal fun. And what’s more American than that?

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Yes, I realize animated GIFs are so twentieth century, but when I try to explain how my car cover works, I’m often met with looks of confusion and bewilderment. Known as SmartCover, this product lands between the nearly useless cardboard/foil foam windshield reflector and a whole-car-takes-ten-minutes-to-unfurl-and-position-before-you-realize-it’s-inside-out cover in both price and usability.

Summers in the California Central Valley are brutal. Just last week we had a few days of 100°+ temperatures that cause the leather interiors of most cars to become skin singers. First-degree burns on the backs of thighs aren’t fun (don’t ask me how I know). When you think about it, what good is a windshield shade if the sun is in its highest position or if your car is pointing away from the rising or setting sun? Not much good at all. Better to shield all your car’s windows if you’re going to bother.

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Before landing a part-time gig as an automotive test monkey, I cut my teeth driving virtual cars on Gran Turismo 4 (GT4). Developer Polyphony Digital’s attention to detail was startling. You could/can feel subtle differences between ostensibly similar cars, such as an ’89 and a ’93 Mazda Miata (hint: chassis rigidity on the older car sucks). Sure, GT4’s artificial intelligence was a joke. And the lack of damage was mildly disappointing. But it was a great game, except for the understeer . . . the terminal bloody understeer.

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Ford seems to be the only part of the big 3/2.5/1.8 that’s embracing technology as a way to win customers. Their SYNC system got massive airplay in the Blue Oval’s ads. Down at the dealer level, FoMoCo’s been pushing SYNC like crazy. Strange, then, that I’ve noticed a distinct lack of reviews on the SYNC. So I hopped into a Ford Fusion for a week to answer a simple question: it is any good?

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One of my long-standing disagreements with the editor: the Porsche Cayenne is a dangerous diffusion of the Porsche brand. I never believed that. I’d call Robert up and tell him— if I could dial this new Porsche Design P’9522 phone with its razor thin buttons. Or use it stateside for that matter. Perhaps I’ll e-mail my review. Nope. The gorgeous new touch screen gizmo lacks that feature. It does have a 911 GT3 ring tone, though.

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Now that the Need For Speed franchise has definitively and conclusively jumped the shark, Rockstar’s Midnight Club has emerged as the standard-bearer for street racing games. Enter the newest edition: Midnight Club: LA. The recipe for this one was deceptively simple: take the GTA IV driving engine, enhance it to reflect different (i.e. real) cars, stick the driver in yet another trendy city-– this time LA– and let him get into as much trouble as possible. On the whole, Midnight Club picks up right where NFS Carbon left off (let’s pretend ProStreet and Undercover never happened). It’s a fun, arcade-style game, but it’s not without its flaws.

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When new acquaintances find out that I cover the automotive industry, the response is often a flood of pent-up questions on the topic. Though much of the interest converges on the future of the American automakers, the future of cars, fuel and mobility in general attract a lot of curiosity. Facile blogger that I am, I usually cop out by saying that telecommuting is the true future of mobility. In reality, the interplay of energy, economics, politics, technology and the environment that defines the cars and fuels of the future is a topic of near infinite complexity. Luckily, two correspondents for the Economist have tackled the issues in a new book entitled Zoom: The Global Race To Fuel The Car Of The Future.

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There’s nothing like matching wits with the sweepers in a car that normally fears a bend in the road. Unless you own the well engineered underpinnings of a Porsche, Corvette, BMW or a handful of less obvious winners sporting a bona fide performance suspension from the factory, that is. For the rest of us, there are after market alternatives that allow loyalists to keep their current rides (and monthly payment) and let the inner Pistonhead shine in all its glory. With this in mind, start with better tires, and then take a look at your sway bars.

Most cars come with a Pistonhead-averse, lawsuit-friendly pair of bars. Even worse, many rear bars are deleted entirely to please the merciless will of corporate beancounters. So Addco Manufacturing, one of the few suspension suppliers with the flexibility and knowledge to create sway bar upgrades for most any ride, feeds the need for flat cornering.

Disclaimer: while some vehicles have sway bar alternatives from their high(er) performance counterparts (a la Ford SVT or BMW M-series), buying used sway bars may not give the desired bang-for-the-buck when you consider metal fatigue, worn bushings and unrealistic pricing due to a limited supply.

Right. So TTAC’s test vehicle for Addco’s bars is my daily driver: a Lincoln Mark VIII LSC with a fully refreshed air suspension. Obviously this Lincoln is not the logical choice, but as a cousin of the Ford Thunderbird, Addco’s engineers worked with the road racing T-bird faithful (who knew?) to create three options for my wannabe GT. So I had a dilemma not unlike a trip to the hot sauce counter at Taco Bell: will it be “Mild”, “Hot” or “Fire”?

Moderation and parts matching is paramount. I chose Addco’s “Hot” offering: a pair of bars measuring a stout 1 ¼” in diameter. This is a serious upgrade from the puny stock bars, both measuring less than one inch. Considering the Lincoln’s overall mission (Boss Hogg worthy cruiser) and the relative softness of its air-filled spring bladders, going to bigger bars minimized the pain of a firmer suspension but maximized the cornering prowess. And if Addco stocks the parts to make a 3800lb pimpmobile turn tricks, odds are they got your whip covered.

Installation times vary by vehicle. I was on the losing end of that promise. For the front bar, I needed a hand and a (hydraulic) lift to get the K-member out of the way. Mercifully, the rear bar was a 20-minute job in my driveway with basic hand tools. If your favorite model-specific forum didn’t already document the swap, Addco provides stellar instructions in the box, new hardware and excellent customer support for when I had a few questions. While Addco normally includes the “red” polyurethane bushings for maximum impact, I asked for the OEM-spec “black” bushings for Lincoln levels of NVH (noise, vibration, harshness) control. Addco gladly capitulated.

The end result? No longer the victim of wallow and massive understeer, the Mark VIII cuts corners like an old school AMG Benz. Now the link-intensive suspension and the “Rich Man’s Mustang” independent rear axle have a voice. And a calling: tenaciously holding its Z-rated gumballs to the pavement. The matched, oversized sway bars made corner carving a breeze with minimal body roll: what took 50 mph now demands speeds of 60 or 70 for the same kick. I betcha this is what Ford’s engineering team had in mind for this platform from day one.

The flip side to flat cornering is the resulting tendency to oversteer. The key is to build rear steer progressively with modest levels of throttle input, not popping out like a creepy mechanical mannequin in a haunted house. Addco’s package did it right: only foolish levels of throttle (or the ill-timed downshift) make the RWD Mark change its course, provided you disengage the traction control. The extra mid-corner speed generated by these sway bars demands more respect from the driver, and little else.

No sway bar discussion is done without mentioning ride quality: the Lincoln is obviously firmer than stock, but acceptable from the first mile. As the bushings lightened up over the course of 500 miles, the ride lost its jiggle and regained composure. Its quite amazing: enjoying the insolated freedom of air suspended bliss one moment, then confidently clipping the apex another. While the Addco-fettled Lincoln cannot beat the laws of physics, it can pull a Warren Sapp and dance with a 3-series.

Though prices vary with application and dimensions, many of Addco’s bars sell for around $160 each, including bushings and hardware. In my case, I had Addco’s bars shipped and (halfway) professionally installed for under $600. Even better, Addco is one company known for offering group purchases to motivated forum junkies with loyal followers. Its an epic win for all.

[Addco Manufacturing provided these parts for this review]

Grand Theft Auto IV’s (GTAIV) intricate and involving storyline has drawn comparisons to Martin Scorsese’s Taxi Driver. You playin’ with me? Yes, well, there are a lot more cars in GTAIV. And the game’s protagonist, a Serbian immigrant named Niko Bellic, has neither a clean license nor a clean conscience. Despite the increased focus on the thematic and shooting action, most of GTAIV’s single-player missions still mandate mastery of a wide range of vehicles. From the start of the first mission, to the usual drug deliveries, to driving a big rig filled with explosives through city streets, Grand Theft is pistonhead catnip. As you’d expect, car chases and street races present some of the game’s toughest– and most rewarding– challenges.

While the simulated car’s simulated physics are more realistic than previous GTA iterations, that’s a bit like saying Sam Wiggle is a better singer than Greg. GTAIV’s driving dynamics are still more Roadrunner than road-worthy. A sharp handbrake turn at 30mph can set a car on its side. Hardly real world reflective. Or, as Travis Bickle might say, I could tell by the way they related there was no connection whatsoever.

Assuming you don’t hail a cab, the game begins behind the virtual wheel of a crappy-looking late 80s Buick look-a-like. All the cars in GTAIV look like real-world automobiles, with subtle and no-so-subtle “enhancements.” No points for guessing what a “Coquette” or “Dukes” would like to be when it grows up. Just in case a manufacturer might get upset about ripped-off whips engaging in criminal activities, GTAIV’s programmers occasionally hedge their bets by morphing two cars into one. The “Infernus” combines a Lamborghini Gallardo front end and a Pagani Zonda butt. Like the game itself, the $1.5m cut-and-shunt is strangely satisfying.

Each car offers specific driving dynamics: front wheel-drive cars understeer. All wheel-drive SUVs feel heavy in corners, and then pull strongly out of them. In this game, weight matters. In a “Patriot”, the only things that will scare you are big rigs, walls and tiny trees. More importantly, driving skill is (now) a critical factor; poor drivers will suffer immensely through the many vehicular missions. That goes double for the multiplayer races. The old turn-and-handbrake technique is no longer sufficient. Multi-tap subtlety is required to negotiate a bend “just right.”

Dab hands will opt for the first person view from behind the windshield. That’s where the sound of the stereo is drowned out by engine roar (or sputter, if you’re driving some old junk). Talk about aural sex… While the powerplants’ sonic signatures aren’t as faithful as, say Gran Turismo, they’re even more addictive. SUVs have booming big-block V8s, flat 6s wail and tasty imports provide plenty of turbo whine. The radio doesn’t stand a chance. It’s a bit of a shame; a multitude of stations offer some wikkid variety, from DJ Iggy Pop to NPR-style talk radio.

The game’s main mission is good for removing at least 30 hours from your life. Side missions can take up an additional 10 hours, hidden jumps and hunting for “flying rats” notwithstanding.

Despite some poor textures up close, the graphics are where it’s at. The game’s main appeal resides in its setting and the clever dialogue, not its racing qualities. Humorous touches abound, entrance and delight. Liberty City’s Statue of happiness holds a cup of RF’s favorite brew. Even without excessive caffeination, driving around is a buzz– enough to make random meandering almost as much fun as the game’s trademark violence. Bonus: the weather changes randomly, including rain and fog, which alter a car’s handling.

Rating:

Overall, 5/5 stars. Other than repetitive missions, it’s a real show stopper.

As a racing game: 4/5 stars. Gran Turismo and the Forza series are far superior. Then again, if you’re an aspiring gangsta– and who isn’t?– this is the place to be.

Need for Speed Prostreet is a huge departure from the NFS series, featuring only legal racing. That’s right; the ultimate “I don’t wanna grow up” game has grown up. By banishing typical NFS staples – illegality, police chases and near-invincibility – EA Sports has made a serious racing game. Unfortunately, that places ProStreet squarely in the crosshairs of established franchises like Gran Turismo and Forza Motorsport, who’ve cornered the market on “serious racing.” Against this lethal competition, ProStreet falls far short of establishing a beachhead.

The game’s heart is its career mode, which is structured in a series of “Race Day.” Each race day has a minimum point requirement for victory. If you collect enough points after a few races, you don’t need to finish the entire event to unlock more Race Days. However, you can choose to continue an already-won Race Day to collect even more points and earn a “Domination” victory, which unlocks better rewards and gives you more cash.

And so, you go from Race Day to Race Day, unlocking other Race Days. Gone is the “Free Roam” which allows you to meander through the city, exploring the limits of the car or trying to incite the police play bumper tag with you. All the various types of races within each Race Day are standard fare for experienced Xbox racers: straight-up races, time trials, sector shootouts and drag races. The only “free time” allowed is race practice.

It’s not a bad set-up for a pure racing game, but there are many disappointments. Track-based drag racing, for example, is new to the NFS franchise. It was an idea that must’ve sounded cool to a bunch of geeky car/gamer guys sitting around on bean bags, but wasn’t. Each NFS drag race starts with a burnout. The goal: heat your tires by keeping your revs in a specified power band. Do well and you’ll be catapulted at the green light.

From there, drags are ridiculously easy. Time your shifts to claim a victory. Presto. No race lasts longer than 24 seconds. (Surprise!)  In other words, it’s pure tedium; especially since most Race Days include at least one drag event. In comparison to the canyon duels– an innovative wrinkle introduced in NFS Carbon– drag racing is a non-crashing bore.

The other issue with Race Days: car typing. When you buy a ride, you select one type of racing for the vehicle: grip (standard racing), speed, drag or drift. Switching a car from one mode to another deletes all previous tuning. Obviously, some semi-pro racers optimize their cars for one type of event. But forcing gamers to do the same adds little value to the game, and another dollop of ennui. It seems obvious to me that a stock Corvette Z06 would be a competent dragster and time-attacker all at once.

Another unfortunate mystery: why an all wheel-drive (AWD) car can’t enter drift events. Seriously. I can still recall earning the “Drift King” achievement in NFS Carbon with an AWD R34 Skyline, a car known for its ability to drift. Yet in the next game of the series, the car is apparently unable to drift.

On the other hand, ProStreet introduces damage modeling to the series. Not there’s much to it; there three basic states of damage, each of which hampers your performance slightly. And of course, it costs money to repair your car (which you must do at the end of each Race Day). Unfortunately, there’s no distinction as to what’s been damaged (e.g., steering, engine, gearbox) and how each type of damage hinders you.

Forza’s guiding line is shamelessly aped, though ProStreet’s line is nowhere near as accurate. Follow it at your own risk. Most cars handle like buses at any speed above 40 mph. Some car rumps still have that cartoonish jiggle under acceleration. The steering is vague and imprecise as always. Visuals are not much better than Forza Motorsport 2 (released a year earlier) either.

NFS, in any incarnation, has never been a purist’s driving game. As long as it had that taboo underground  feeling, the arcade feel and a city to explore, you’d forgive the unrealistic driving, where brakes are an afterthought and a Viper can hit 120 mph in 1.5 seconds. In a more adult setting, NFS’ driving flaws are laid bare.

And yet someone at EA decided to let NFS step up into the big leagues. Wong answer. Let’s hope EA returns ProStreet to the streets or… no, that’s it. That’s what they need to do.