Friday, May 22, 2009

High Maintainence

I've been saying for about a year now that I expect my car to eventually explode or fail in some other grand dramatic way that will put a defninitive end to the machine.  In a way I wish that had happened.  

What's actually been happening is the slow death of the machine, in a way that seems designed to mock me.  The transmission has been flakey for years, but the car was still drivable.  The roof was unreliable, but the car was still drivable.  The roof became stuck semi-closed with a little open slit in the back, unable to be fully closed and no longer a convertable, but the car was still drivable.  Around a month ago the radiator sprung a tiny leak.  It was a hassle monitoring the heat and refilling the radiator but the car was still drivable.  A few weeks ago the driver side seatbelt became permentantly stuck, but the car was still drivable.  This morning I discovered that the front driver side tire has blown out.  I have a spare, I could make the car drivable, but enough is enough.

The repair costs on the roof alone are more then the blue book value of the car.  Then add in the transmission, the brakes, the radiator, the seatbelt, and now the tires.  It would cost at least a thousand dollar to get the car to the point where it would pass inspection.

As much as it's going to complicate my life it's time for me to accept one thing.  I no longer have a car.  

Sunday, May 17, 2009


I need to offer a quick correction on a phase I used to toss around.  "It's like Twitter for crazy people."  This was always uttered as a commentary to my giant whiteboard, but it's incorrect.  The twitter for crazy people is twitter, and microblogging is one of the most amusing pointless and supremelly arrogant things one can engage in.  

Thursday, May 14, 2009

Subject Zero

Subject Zero's pattern of over investigation was first recognized by Subject L.  We believe that subject L's candid nature has pointed out what may be a recurring event.  

A recently developed theory states that Subject Zero will display this behavior more when communicating through a purely text based medium.  This is based on the idea that the lack of visual, auditory, or physical presence causes an unconscious dehumanization of the person he is interacting with.  This pulls Subject Zero out of a present mindset, and more into his own internal mental cosmos.  Within said cosmos Subject Zero has only the constructed mental frameworks with which to form his actions, and his perceptions of the world around him.  This leads to over investigation as he feels the need for greater and greater detail and realism in said constructions.  

While the subject is being discussed let's go over some previous theories on this behavior.  

The principle theory here is clear.  The behavior stems from confidence loss, which leads to uncertainty, and hence a compulsive desire for direct clarified knowledge.  Whether this is a simple manifestation of doubt, or an effect of a dissociative defense mechanism, which may itself be a response to doubt, is debated.  This theory fits into the profile of Subject Zero, particularly when interacting with Subject L, who serves the ironic role of being the pivotal figure in his recent rise of confidence, and a metaphorical kryptonite to said confidence.  This theory warrants further study.  Examining how overinvestigative behavior plays out with regards to subject J.

Due diligence.  The null hypothesis to this theory is that Subject L simply doesn't like answering questions and tells incomplete stories.  In this institutes role as a metacognitive fabrication of Subject Zero's own mind, we are unable disprove, or determinately fail to disprove the null hypothesis.

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Good Honest Folk

We looked at a lot of places.  I looked at about twice as many as we looked at, since I have free time and a car.  The place we settled on was the owners unit of a place in Ballard.  It was great, it was new, it had the feel of a place that had been managed by professionals and carefully cultivated to appeal to the prospective renter.  As prospective renters we felt it's appeal, and we were sold.  

That's where things began to go a little odd.  We ceased our pursuit at that point, and began working on finalizing the deal.  We were told there was one other group ahead of us, but they didn't have a very strong application, so it was pretty much in our pocket.  A tense weekend, and Monday comes around.  There's a lot of pretty frantic texting back and forth between me and our real estate contact.  She holds up a number of hoops, and we expertly jump through them.  The last exchange was setting up a time we could all meet and sign the lease.  Which is when she told me that there was some confusion.   See, she thought she was texting with the other group, the one ahead of us, and it turns out that all the hoops we had just jumped through were going to be offered to them.  They jumped through them, and victory was snatched from us at the last possible moment.

The hunt went on.

We looked at a number of other places, and when things were good we settled on another place.  This one lacked the professional sheen, a word I'm using because I don't know how to spell veneer.  We walked around this one with the same eye for potential, but we knew, and those who own the property knew, that it was going to take some work.  They planned, and still plan, to do a great deal of that work for us, but our visions go beyond the simple fix ups and more into the realm of improvements.  Customizations perhaps.   

When we talked things out with them we had the exact opposite experience.  They were good honest folk who wanted to rent out this property.   They had some credit check forms that they pulled fresh from the bag, staple's price tag still on the bag, and when they weren't quite sure how it all went they took a good look at us, and they did something that no major institution can do.  

They trusted us.

They knew that we were good kids, that we wouldn't screw things up, and that when all was said and done we would be good for the house.  We will be too.  We, mostly I, have a lot of plans for that place, and by the time we move out it's going to be worth a lot more then it is now, and I like that.  I like that because the house is, by it's nature, what I wanted it to be.  It's a place were I can learn, and grow, and mature.  And as I do, the house itself will mature.  I know it's a weakness of mind, but when the symbolism lines up so perfectly I can not help but feel the subtle pull of fate.  And as someone who works so much with distant institutions who function along protocol, and more often then not automated programming, it's a true relief to be working with good honest folk for once.