By Gunnar Heinrich | IMG by GM via CadillacFaq
CADILLAC’S CTS-V is pure road going violence.
It’s as though a certain fear and loathing drove the designers, the tuners, the machinists, the suppliers, the engineers, the writers, and the executives all to the same point of critical mass. The result is a savage machine of extreme brutality and exacting finesse- an American psycho.
The CTS-V, meine Herren, is Cadillac’s Manhattan Project; it’s 6.2 Liter V8, the de-tuned Little Boy to the Corvette ZR1’s Big Boy.
But with the launch of this new flagship (of sorts) Cadillac’s future is placed on hold along with everyone else’s. There’s nothing in the immediate pipeline that harnesses the same capacity to upset the balance of (horse)power. Not the next SRX. Not the CTS coupe or wagon.
As if America’s luxury market needed upsetting.
Until the smoke of public inquiry clears, there can be no progress beyond CTS-V for Cadillac. Not one cubic inch.
There’s nothing more to be done until whatever new day finds them. And even then, there are no promises.
And that brings us to that nasty thing about fear. There’s no safe. It holds no sanctity for Christmas. Doesn’t guarantee expiration with the New Year. It’s omnipresent so long as there’s cause.
At this point in the marque’s history, does too much depend on the success and recognition of one car?