I copies this out a magazine a few months ago:
[FONT="]This old Detroit iron that we are drawn to is the real thing, built from real steel milled in a real mill by real men. Those engines were cast in sand molds in a real foundry, from molten iron. Theyre genuine carbureted, big-cube V-8s, not hybrids, not turbo-fours, not high tech sixes or high winding Euro V-12s. They are as big as the Montana sky, unrefined as a cage fight, crude as a biker bar, powerful as a deer rifle, and more fun than a roller coaster.[/FONT]
[FONT="]Other parts of the world have their own thing. The Brits make a fine DOHC straight six, and the Italians make great V-12s, but those are their things... Americans own the V-8. We are the V-8. Its what we do, and its who we are. Its as American as Philly and as tough as Detroit. Muscle cars are loud and tacky and crass and gaudy. I love that. Its wonderful. It does my American soul good. Muscle cars are about as subtle as a tractor pull. But theyre American, and they speak to me. We are not polished and continental and manicured. We brag too much, we come on too strong, we shout too loud. But too much is just enough. [/FONT]
[FONT="]Real muscle cars dont have to fake it or create some virtual fantasy. Theyre loud and proud and the real deal. Its not just a car. Its not just a collection of parts. You own something powerful, something born of true American character, something special in all the world.[/FONT]
[FONT="] Tom Shaw, Muscle Car Review, May 2014[/FONT]