2006 Lexus Rx 400h, Hybrid, Awd With 48k Miles on 2040-cars

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What's in a trademark? Sometimes, the next iconic car name

The United States Patent and Trademark Office is a treasure trove for auto enthusiasts, especially those who double as conspiracy theorists.
Why has Toyota applied to trademark "Supra," the name of one of its legendary sports cars, even though it hasn't sold one in the United States in 16 years? Why would General Motors continue to register "Chevelle" long after one of the most famous American muscle cars hit the end of the road? And what could Chrysler possibly do with the rights to "313," the area code for Detroit?

Anything but boring | 2018 Lexus LC 500 First Drive

This is it, the headliner, the main event. After years of Lexus promising to make less-boring cars and instead giving us countless spindle-grille facelifts, the 2018 LC 500 is here as the brand's new North Star. It's the official halo to mark where Toyota's luxury brand is headed. This is the car that we hope can bring an end to the relentless mentions of boring cars - which are themselves needlessly boring. And besides, "not boring" is a terrible metric for evaluation. What Lexus is really trying to do is give its cars some spirit, to transcend the paint-by-numbers stereotype that made this brand the luxury juggernaut it is today. By that yardstick, the LC 500 is a success simply based on how it looks. It's beautiful in a way that we couldn't predict from the 2012 LF-LC concept that foreshadowed it. The kind of beauty where instead of reflexively grabbing your phone to take a picture, you just stand there and keep looking. And pictures don't do this car justice, anyway. They soften the edges and reduce the massive draw of the wide shoulders. In person, looking straight at the LC, the car looks like it's 80 percent hood. In the rest of the lineup, the trademark Lexus grille's execution ranges from caricature (RC) to botched nose job (LX). Here it pulls everything together. From every other angle, the LC has some feature that seems excessive – in the best way possible. The proportions of the LC give off a distinctively functional vibe, and it's genuine. That hood is so long because the 5.0-liter V8's center of mass sits three and a half inches behind the front axle. The extra space up front is mostly empty - Lexus uses high-strength steel cross-braces to shore up torsional rigidity instead of adding structure ahead of the front wheels, and the battery sits under the trunk floor. For all the visual excitement, the LC is still a conventional vehicle. Aside from some advancements in the LC 500h's hybrid powertain, the innovation here is of the iterative type. It's interesting, in that Lexus is betting on emotional appeal and driving character at a time when the future relevance of both is up for debate. If anything, the LC is a car for the current automotive world, not the one to come. And despite extensive use of aluminum and sheet-molded carbon, the LC 500 weighs in at a hefty 4,280 pounds. That's right in line with the BMW 6 Series and a good deal below the Batali-esque Mercedes-Benz S-Class Coupe's 4,700 pounds.

2015 Lexus RC F Review

Every year, thousands of people buy two-door coupes that bear the badges of BMW M, Mercedes-AMG, Audi RS, and Cadillac V. These cars are powerful, fast, agile, and - if you believe the marketing - are made to kick ass on the track. But, and this is just my theory, only about 0.2 percent of these owners actually drive their cars the way the companies intended. Most buyers, I think, want the image put forth by an M4 or C63 AMG more than any dynamic abilities. These people just want to give the impression that they're out tearing up the local road course, and a $70,000 sports coupe and a pair of Pilotis are just the ticket. Which is not to say they don't use the performance of these cars, just not the full track-day capabilities. If this describes you, I recommend checking out the new Lexus RC F. This coupe is powered by a 5.0-liter V8, complete with 467 horsepower and 389 pound-feet of torque. These figures, while impressive in a vacuum, are troubling when viewed alongside the competition. The Mercedes-AMG C63 tops 500 in horsepower and torque in S guise, while the six-pot Cadillac ATS-V is nearly equal on power but offers almost 60 more pound-feet of torque. And while the BMW M4 cedes more than 40 horsepower to the Lexus, the RC F doesn't feel as potent from the driver's seat. The RC F doesn't even feel as potent as less-powerful competition. This numerical deficit translates to the stopwatch, where the RC F lags behind the force-induced competition. The C63 and ATS-V both hit 60 in 3.9 seconds, while the BMW takes 4.1 seconds (these are all manufacturer estimates, by the way). The RC F needs 4.4 seconds to hit 60 miles per hour. The only vehicle in this segment that's slower is the Audi RS 5, and that's been on sale longer than all its current competitors combined. And the Audi's charms (oh, that glorious engine note) help you overlook its lack of pace. The RC F doesn't have the aging Audi's charisma, making its lack of both perceived and actual pace more glaring. I'm placing blame on this car's overbearing induction sound. It was a neat trick on the original IS F – this car's predecessor – but over the years it's just become kind of played out. At the least the noise is real, piped into the cabin via a resonator, but it sounds too artificial. And the point at which it kicks in is entirely predictable. Neither of these traits contribute to an involving driving experience.