Paul raises his eyebrow. Seriously?

Times have changed. Changed in a whopping, Big Bang kind of way. Once hopeless and bumbling, Ford Motor Co. is now really cranking out the good stuff. And its new Mustang is about as good as it gets.

I’m reminded why as I aim the sparkling blue hood (the deep, lustrous paint is called “Kona Blue Metallic”) on my way out of town.

Normally I nurse high-dollar rides over the canyon-sized cracks and craters in New York’s West Side Highway as if guiding a colicky baby in a carriage. With the Mustang’s high clearance and sturdy shocks, I bound over the choppy asphalt. Bulletproof.

On today’s just-for-fun itinerary: I’m prowling for open, winding lanes where the V-8 can have its torque-mad way with the world. Under full throttle, the brand-new 5.0-liter motor sounds like Zeus hurling thunderbolts, channeling 412 horsepower and 390 pound-feet of torque.

Years ago it was inconceivable to have so much power at such a bargain price. This base coupe has more kick than the original V-10-powered Dodge Viper or a Ferrari 360 Modena.

And boy does it pull. At a stop light it yanks you, inexorably, toward the next traffic stop like a leashed bull mastiff, a kind of torque overload that’s nearly impossible not to childishly indulge in over and over again.

The sound is bright, raw, delicious.

As for gas mileage, the V-8 manages 17 city and 26 highway and can be run on regular gasoline rather than premium with a slight reduction in power.

As driven, my test car was $42,305. It included most of the convenience and sport options, including navigation, improved Brembo brakes, 19-inch wheels and an electronic stability control meant for spirited driving.

So equipped, the GT was as much or more fun than any European or Japanese car at that same price.

The lengthy and impassioned argument over which car would finish second is what really ran up the post-dinner bar tab. The proletarian staffers found the Challenger SRT8’s sticker too shocking and argued fervently for the Transformers-yellow Camaro SS, while the Jack Daniels Single Barrel swilling patricians dismissed the gauche, faddish Camaro with its overwrought controls in favor of the refined, mellow, mellifluous Dodge. (Plus it finished higher in more of our individual contests.) So when the buzzer sounded (last call), the scoreboard indicated that more staffers would prefer to own the Challenger, even if it meant downgrading to blended whiskeys and Swisher Sweets to save the extra $10 large. And so, until Chevy or Dodge tweaks a substantial engine, chassis, or body part, the Ford Mustang GT is the reigning V-8 Ponycar champion of the universe. See you next season