It verges on racism, really. Jap bike, rice rocket, no character, no soul. People who spout that stuff, as they load their bevel-drive Ducatis on the trailer for the tow home, haven't ridden a 1200 Suzuki lately, if ever. Because if they had they'd know that Suzuki's old oil-cooled beast has more soul in one cooling fin than Ray Charles' upper denture-a distinct clicky, raspy-smooth whir no other four makes. And when it comes time to compare the big Suzuki's performance with your more "soulful" European brands, well, wait a minute, there are none to compare. In short, the thing makes hogsheads of power, it feels good doing it, it doesn't break and maintenance is really optional.