1971 Chrysler Town & Country Station Wagon on 2040-cars

Auto blog

We aren't the only ones who want a Chrysler Pacifica Hellcat

Yes, you read that correctly: Chrysler. Pacifica. Hellcat. We want one. It's definitely not happening. But that doesn't mean we – and the FCA designers – can't dream, right? That's what led to this sketch, posted on Instagram by Fiat-Chrysler design boss Ralph Gilles. It looks pretty sweet, including that hella important wing for maximum downforce, yo. As long as we're dreaming, we've got a few other requests. Let's put that 707-horsepower, 6.2-liter, supercharged V8 in the middle of the van. Screw the Stow 'N Go seats – let's get that engine mounted as low in the car's midsection as possible. And while we're at it, let's go for rear-wheel drive. And a six-speed manual transmission. And a third row of seats behind the engine, but rear-facing, so we can make our friends puke. This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings. In all seriousness, we're looking forward to driving the regular Pacifica when it launches this Spring. To refresh your memory, it's a totally new van, and will even be offered in Hybrid spec with an 80-mile-per-gallon-equivalent rating. Sounds impressive. Oh, heck. Hellcats > Hybrids. Ralph, we urge you to make this one a reality. Related Video:

Junkyard Gem: 1986 Chrysler Fifth Avenue

Chrysler started putting the New Yorker name on its top-end luxury dreadnaughts all the way back in the early 1940s. When it came time to pitch an even more exclusive New Yorker, what street did Chrysler choose for its name in 1979? Exactly. The Fifth Avenues started out as Plymouth Gran Fury siblings, then switched to the smaller M-Body Dodge Diplomat platform for the 1982-1989 model years. Here's a padded-landau-roof-equipped '86 Fifth Avenue, spotted in a San Francisco Bay Area self-service wrecking yard. Though the Fifth Avenue started life as a option package for the New Yorker, Chrysler ditched the New Yorker badging on these cars after the 1983 model year (while applying it, confusingly, to the Chrysler-badged front-wheel-drive E-Body). Perhaps this was due to certain Chrysler-demographic-terrifying developments in New York-based popular culture around that time. 1970s styling touches were still going strong in mid-1980s Detroit, and this car has lots of fake wood and button-tufted vinyl inside, with this stainless-trimmed padded landau roof outside. Mechanically speaking, it's a Dodge Diplomat, complete with 140-horsepower 318-cubic-inch (5.2 liter) V8, rear-wheel-drive, and three-speed automatic transmission. The Diplomat was a sturdy and reliable machine, but the $14,910 Fifth Avenue sticker price was a lot to pay for a Diplomat with some extra gingerbread, especially when the Diplomat listed at $10,086. This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings. The Diplomat was a very popular choice for American law-enforcement duties during the 1980s, and the chase scene from Short Time shows a slightly exaggerated depiction of its tough construction. It's a shame that the filmmakers couldn't find a way to use a Fifth Avenue instead. For 1990, the Fifth Avenue name went onto a stretched version of the front-wheel-drive K Platform, then disappeared after 1993. This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings. "I enjoy making money... and spending it. But not foolishly." Related Video:

The problem with how automakers confront hacking threats

More than anyone, Chris Valasek and Charlie Miller are responsible for alerting Americans to the hacking perils awaiting them in their modern-day cars. In 2013, the pair of cyber-security researchers followed in the footsteps of academics at the University of Cal-San Diego and University of Washington, demonstrating it was possible to hack and control cars. Last summer, their research established which vehicles contained inherent security weaknesses. In recent weeks, their latest findings have underscored the far-reaching danger of automotive security breaches. From the comfort of his Pittsburgh home, Valasek exploited a flaw in the cellular connection of a Jeep Cherokee and commandeered control as Miller drove along a St. Louis highway. Remote access. No prior tampering with the vehicle. An industry's nightmare. As a result of their work, FCA US recalled 1.4 million cars, improving safety for millions of motorists. For now, Valasek and Miller are at the forefront of their profession. In a few months, they could be out of jobs. Rather than embrace the skills of software and security experts in confronting the unforeseen downside of connectivity in cars, automakers have been doing their best to stifle independent cyber-security research. Lost in the analysis of the Jeep Cherokee vulnerabilities is the possibility this could be the last study of its kind. In September or October, the U.S. Copyright Office will issue a key ruling that could prevent third-party researchers like Valasek and Miller from accessing the components they need to conduct experiments on vehicles. Researchers have asked for an exemption in the Digital Millennial Copyright Act that would preserve their right to analyze cars, but automakers have opposed that exemption, claiming the software that runs almost every conceivable vehicle function is proprietary. Further, their attorneys have argued the complexity of the software has evolved to a point where safety and security risks arise when third parties start monkeying with the code. Their message on cyber security is, as it has been for years, that they know their products better than anyone else and that it's dangerous for others to meddle with them. But in precise terms, the Jeep Cherokee problems show this is not the case. Valasek and Miller discovered the problem, a security hole in the Sprint cellular connection to the UConnect infotainment system, not industry insiders.