I don't like Mustangs.  They are stylish and some are pretty quick, but most are uncomfortable to sit in and drive.  They are made by Ford;  they are everywhere these days in their lastest incarnation, and they have little tinny- sounding exhausts.  They are kind of effeminate.
For that matter, I don't care much for Chargers, Challengers, Camaros, or Subarus, either.  
I don't mind if you like those cars.  I support your right to buy and drive whatever you want.  I would not try to stop you from owning one of them.  And I would not do a single thing to encourage you buying one.
Now, there are some cars in the above categories that are great performers;  Cadillac (I know, Caddy wasn't mentioned above...), Subaru, and some Mustangs are boasting a 0-60 time under 4 seconds.  That is pretty impressive, and great for "light-to-light" drags.  But a block is not a quarter-mile and what counts in a quarter-mile is who gets to top speed first and holds it longest.  Light-to-light used to be the tease we employed in order to get the fish out to Greenfield Drive for the real deal, ala American Graffiti.  We could squeeze in four or five good drags before the nuns called the cops on us.
I do not like "Tuners".  I don't like their "Bee-in-a-beer-can" engine noise.  I don't like their coffee-can-sized exhaust.  I don't like their "slammed" suspension or anything else about them.  I especially don't like the fact that if you try one on, you can't tell from the outside if it is some teener's pasted- together clone or a geniune Tuner's street beast developing 500 hp out of a four-banger that can leave you spinning in its vortex.  But if you want to drive either variety, that is okay with me.  I will not try to stop you.
Now, I do like Pontiacs.  Especially old Pontiacs.  I love the sound of multiple carburators, or quadrajets ( I once heard them described as sounding like a Hoover on steroids).  
I love the deep, hollow-sounding, thundering exhaust noises.
I love the ringing sound of all those moving parts inside the engine as it winds up to maximum horse power.
I love the smell of rubber smoke, the screech of tortured tires, the G-forces of the launch.
I love to race.  The thrill of the launch, the tension, the competition.  The victory.  
If you don't love to race, okay.  If you don't like Pontiacs, that's okay, too.
As much as I love it, a first offense here in the colorful state brings a six-month suspension, automatic, so I don't do it much anymore.  But the fact that I do love it so much and would if I could, I guess that makes me a...RACE-IST !!