Believe it or not, there is a method to our madness. Sure, we admit we're the worst magazine out of what seems like the millions under the Primedia publishing umbrella when it comes to meeting article deadlines; we're the loudest (and most denigrating) group of flunkies to ever rock the 9th floor of our building; and the sole economic backbone for such companies like Jergen's lotion (it gets lonely sometimes--ah, hell, all the time), Grey Goose, Corona, Marlboro Lights, Newports, boot-leg DVDs and CDs, all sex-line numbers beginning with 800 and 976, Friendster.com, Chappelle's Show, Budget Gourmet, Zig-Zags, the entire national chain of Bare Elegance strip clubs, mark-ass tricks, trick-ass marks, skip-skaps, scaliwags, hoo-has, and hoola-hoops. (Sorry about that. Seems like there's more madness than method.)
But one thing we'll never admit to, regardless of how second-rate we are as writers, photographers, and members of society, is the mediocrity of our cover cars because, for starters, there is no such thing. Getting a cover is not as easy as what Need for Speed: Underground leads you to believe. There are a lot of man-tiddies to be caressed and pimp factors to be set. Take, for example, R-Magic's Mazda RX-7 and RX-8. Don't even front like you don't wish you drove these cars. We guarantee that they're better than yours. And if you disagree, then you better start yelling at your moms for dropping you on your head too many times. These RXs made their way to cover superstardom because: 1) We've never seen anything like them, 2) They boast the power to back up the wild looks, and, 3) Well, we have to prove we did something during our visits to Japan.
Also, we actually planned this rare twofer. There wasn't some freak accident that left us with one memory flash card that only had room to photograph one feature car and were forced to shoot two cars as one. Nah, it didn't happen that way, son. Rather, months ago we sat inside the 9th floor conference room, brainstormed story ideas until the 2 a.m. last call, and came up with an idea for a rotary issue. And who else in tuning happy land can represent the rotor like Mazda? Exactly. So we traveled to Japan, scored some free sake, and met up with R-Magic.
R-Magic can be found in the US at www.bozzperformance.com, and the tuner exclusively specializes on RX-type cars. That means it doesn't make an air filter for your Honda Civic or your Geo Storm, so don't ask. It does, however, produce everything from body kits to rollcages to freakin' full exhaust systems for your second- or third-gen RX-7 or RX-8 (sorry, Savanah owners), and, if you ask nicely, it will tell you how it came up with its name. We'd tell you ourselves, but we didn't ask too nicely. So instead, we'll make random assumptions. Obviously the "R" must stand for "rotary," because as much as the Ladies Love Cool R (uh, that's me), he's not powerful enough to produce a cult following, much less magic, which brings us to the latter half of the name. We're guessing that it chose the word "magic" because it sounds cool, and it does exist. You knew that, right? Magic exists. David Blaine can really make coffee into money, read your mind, and have you take off your clothes and make sweet love to a baboon. Wait up. Damn, that prick made me have sex with a baboon! OK, never mind.
First up to bat is the FD3S, the Mazda RX-7 for you chassis-code illiterates. According to the R-Magic representative, who remains faceless, nameless, and, for all we know, altogether nonexistent because he/she stated the following in an e-mail message: "The concept of the RX-7 was for it to sustain its street legal status, yet have a cool style and be fast." Apparently it accomplished what it set out to do. After all, the RX-7's internals and turbo were left to factory specification. Rather, the tuning company opted for the power of the laughing gas, using an NX nitrous kit to bump up its pimpness, resulting in the car's production of up to 420 ps, which can still embarrass the majority of stateside enthusiasts. And with Dunlop tires, lightweight Volk GT-7s, and a R-Magic N1 damper system, potential track competitors need not apply. Though we'd like to ramble on about every part inside this FD, we know you've already snaked a look at the Fast Facts section and are reading this article for pity of the writer, so we'll move on to the RX-8.
R-Magic's choice to dump nearly 40 Gs on this RX-8 was mainly due to Super Autobacs. The tuning superstore worked with R-Magic to build an RX-8 exclusively for its Chiba Naganuma, Japan, store. The two partnered up and, coincidentally enough, labeled the project Super Street RX-8. Mainly, Super Autobacs wanted some eye candy for one of its branches to attract more customers, which attributes to the RX-8's wild graphics and beautiful body kit, forcing R-Magic to ease up on the engine buildup. So that is the reason why this RX-8 only sports a R-Magic muffler, metal catalytic converter, and big capacity radiator, along with a big shot of NX happy happy, pushing the horsepower to 260 ps. The real magic, however, lies in the suspension and aesthetics. R-Magic installed its original suspension setup, which is based on the Ohlins system. If your jaw just didn't drop, you obviously don't know what Ohlins does. It makes F1-worthy suspension systems for your undeserving car and sells them for the retail price of your whip brand new--and quadrupled. And it is the best suspension you can buy. OK, now you can pick up your jaw. Out and around this RX-8 is the R-Magic widebody kit with GT-wing, all painted over with the R-Magic signature color, pearl white "Pinky."
Yeah, don't ask. The wheels are Volk SF-Challenges wrapped up in Dunlop rubber. A strong overall setup nonetheless, considering the fact that it's strictly a show car.
So there you have it. Proof that we do, indeed, work, albeit in an extremely lazy fashion, but nobody reading this should really be complaining. After all, you are either reading this because you subscribe, bought the magazine at a newsstand, or reading this at a 7-11, in which case, pull out your wallet and pay for the damned thing. Because who else in this automotive publishing industry, including those under the Primedia umbrella, can bring you these types of cars? C'mon really. Who? We challenge you to go out there and find another magazine like this, and bring your friends so they can see you get schooled. We challenge you! For those who are still hatin', we have one word for you: bitches.