2005 Cadillac CTS-V vs. Chrysler 300C SRT8 vs. Pontiac GTO

Whoever said "knowledge is power" never got blown off by some pimple-faced kid in a ratty Trans Am after screaming, "The area of the square built upon the hypotenuse of a right triangle is equal to the sum of the areas of the squares upon the remaining sides!"

Often, there's just no substitute for power of the powerful variety. Say, when you're trying to coax an 800,000-pound Boeing bound for Mumbai off the runway (try that by flaunting your facility with irregular second-conjugation Italian verbs). Or if you want a car so deliciously quick it'll entice you to skip "Desperate Housewives" just to get in another run to the Piggly Wiggly.

Detroit used to know this. In the heyday of the 1960s, the Big Three tossed out brawny, ballsy, rear-drive automobiles like so many internal-combustion poker chips: "Okay, I'll see your 440 Charger R/T and 428 Cobra Jet and raise you a 454 Chevelle SS." Then Detroit, uh, forgot--and for decades, we watched in collective horror as drive wheels mostly migrated from rear to front and horsepower ratings got as drearily sensible as Ralph Nader's sport coats.

Now--heh-heh--Detroit muscle is back. Big-time. How much horsepressure would you deem sufficient to embolden a rakishly attired, thoroughly modern automobile capable of ferrying four adults in leather-lined splendor? Would 375 horses do? No, let's be greedy--how about 400? Minimum.

Feast your eyes on these three Patriot missiles. Each flaunts a proper rear-drive layout and a big, lusty, Detroit-bred pushrod V-8 producing 400 horsepower--or more. The slowest of the trio rips to 60 mph in five seconds flat (and remember: These bad-boys have back seats). Brakes are vented and large at all 12 corners; tires are of the big and sticky variety. The pimply kid in the ratty Trans Am is doomed.