Tuesday, June 08, 2004
Did I hear Dymaxion?
This is a new feature that will soon be appearing regularly and by regularly I really mean whenever I happen to note the absurb and bizzare that is Van De Vyvere.
As it is clearly stated in the "matt-hatter quota" of politics of the business, I am required to take at least one unbiased, unopinionated, unprejudiced, completely netural look at an everyday happening once every few days. Exactly. (Other sections of the contract state that for every hundred posts I write, o'carreigh's quota is equal to one).
The reason behind the sudden surge of piesexual comments on our usually clean comments board is due to one man, one spirit... one essence... one hero who can only be defined as a blundering oaf, often identified by his voice: one riddled with sarcasm, recognized through humor, and accentuated by the curses that fill the voids of the nouns. Alas, this man is no Emeal "E-mail" Jacobson or Nei' "Absolutely Uncompromisable" Borly, but yet he does have, at his disposal, ready for immediate use, a number of handy gadgets any 6th grade nerd could ask for.
If I'm not mistaken, (which clearly I'm not, because believe me, Emeal wouldn't knight me if I were), this one magician of the ages owns a certain small box (possibly not a box - the complete secrecy of his life shrouds our answers) which, when activated will deafen his assailant for six seconds. And I quote, "(...) deafen 'em for six seconds, non-lethal". A rash decision? Certainly not, the man himself felt threatened by his surroundings, and as a soldier of fortune must remain private and protected in all ways of lie. Oops, I mean "life". (see: Soldier of Fortune contract, season 2004-2005. Available wherever firearms are sold. And manufactured. And distributed illegaly. And sold to kids).
Let's not forget that this modern day Clouseau also keeps pocketed away his very own set of rear view mirrors. Just the tool for when sticky situations consume him in a pulpy orange mess of skin and the likes. What I'm talking about is, of course, none other than his sunglasses, useful for all covert operations, fully equipped with turn signals and rear view mirrors. One who doubts the need for a set of blinkers and a pair of small mirrors fixed on the cornea of your eye clearly misunderstands just what sort of trouble this agent encounters. Who knows when a tiger is ready in waiting to pounce on our man when he least expects it. Furthermore, bear in mind that what creeps out of the average school locker before beheading or castrating the victim is most certainly something worth fending off. With the blink of an eye (literally), a lesser person would not even know what hit them, but our man Van De Vyvere is equipped for all situations, regardless of time, space, or space and time, or continuums.
Another interesting, if I may, 'necessity' to our man's character is his model rocket. Often referred to as his pock-rocket, due to the fact that it relies mainly on the need of a pocket to successfully lift-off, this handy portable deployment unit has more than one use. Sure, you could say that every young astronaut (or cosmonaut as long as we're respecting the town charter) loves to watch the small chemical reaction light up the sky, yet our man Van De Vyvere has once again outsmarted the competition. Basing my findings on a scientific level, it is now obvious that yet again, our top-notch spy has risen above his peers and has been using the pock-rocket, (with "mods" of course) to relay messages between his self and a younger, less civilized, less devoted, (yet amazingly adept at picking up on all the right tactics) version of himself. (Someone I like to refer to as Jason version 2.0).
Finally, every modern day detective must own the wheels to get the job done and still make it to Esso in time to run her through the wash. Unfortunately for our man Van De Vyvere, the very "set of wheels" he owns would never be able to sustain the damage of the rough brissels used in an everyday American car-wash. What I'm saying, of course, is that this genius has spent years developing a car that needs no washing, because the self-cleaning mechanism is beyond well-tuned. What car, you ask, could accomplish so much and ask for so little in return? Why, The Dymaxion 3000 has the answer. This handcrafted oeuvre d'art has been assembled with the greatest of precision by the finest hands in the business. The business of handcrafting hydrogen propulsed cars. Since there is simply no way of reproducing all the information concerning this road-king on paper, ours truly has been kind enough to provide us with the link to some further information on his ride. Found here is the very basic outline of what she looks like and of what specifications went into her. Let's accredit R. Buckminster Fuller with having developed the idea of the dymaxion house. A word which he formed by combining dy-maxun - the element he invented - and ion - greek for house - . Alas, let us, as civilized human beings, not forget that our man Van De Vyvere himself has the rights to the dymaxion (three-wheeled!) car stashed in his underwear drawer. Yes, although never before released on the Internet, his site was made public today at this address. Unfortunately for most of you, by the time you have clicked the link, ours truly will have already taken the site down, with the hopes of preserving the uniqueness of his car. Any normal man would fear the average citizen would print off the plans and build one of his own, only to parade it around the neighborhood, while catwalking on the two rear wheels, impressing every last one of us, and finalising the deal by passing it off as his own.
Fear not good sir, for we at politics of the business salute you!
As it is clearly stated in the "matt-hatter quota" of politics of the business, I am required to take at least one unbiased, unopinionated, unprejudiced, completely netural look at an everyday happening once every few days. Exactly. (Other sections of the contract state that for every hundred posts I write, o'carreigh's quota is equal to one).
The reason behind the sudden surge of piesexual comments on our usually clean comments board is due to one man, one spirit... one essence... one hero who can only be defined as a blundering oaf, often identified by his voice: one riddled with sarcasm, recognized through humor, and accentuated by the curses that fill the voids of the nouns. Alas, this man is no Emeal "E-mail" Jacobson or Nei' "Absolutely Uncompromisable" Borly, but yet he does have, at his disposal, ready for immediate use, a number of handy gadgets any 6th grade nerd could ask for.
If I'm not mistaken, (which clearly I'm not, because believe me, Emeal wouldn't knight me if I were), this one magician of the ages owns a certain small box (possibly not a box - the complete secrecy of his life shrouds our answers) which, when activated will deafen his assailant for six seconds. And I quote, "(...) deafen 'em for six seconds, non-lethal". A rash decision? Certainly not, the man himself felt threatened by his surroundings, and as a soldier of fortune must remain private and protected in all ways of lie. Oops, I mean "life". (see: Soldier of Fortune contract, season 2004-2005. Available wherever firearms are sold. And manufactured. And distributed illegaly. And sold to kids).
Let's not forget that this modern day Clouseau also keeps pocketed away his very own set of rear view mirrors. Just the tool for when sticky situations consume him in a pulpy orange mess of skin and the likes. What I'm talking about is, of course, none other than his sunglasses, useful for all covert operations, fully equipped with turn signals and rear view mirrors. One who doubts the need for a set of blinkers and a pair of small mirrors fixed on the cornea of your eye clearly misunderstands just what sort of trouble this agent encounters. Who knows when a tiger is ready in waiting to pounce on our man when he least expects it. Furthermore, bear in mind that what creeps out of the average school locker before beheading or castrating the victim is most certainly something worth fending off. With the blink of an eye (literally), a lesser person would not even know what hit them, but our man Van De Vyvere is equipped for all situations, regardless of time, space, or space and time, or continuums.
Another interesting, if I may, 'necessity' to our man's character is his model rocket. Often referred to as his pock-rocket, due to the fact that it relies mainly on the need of a pocket to successfully lift-off, this handy portable deployment unit has more than one use. Sure, you could say that every young astronaut (or cosmonaut as long as we're respecting the town charter) loves to watch the small chemical reaction light up the sky, yet our man Van De Vyvere has once again outsmarted the competition. Basing my findings on a scientific level, it is now obvious that yet again, our top-notch spy has risen above his peers and has been using the pock-rocket, (with "mods" of course) to relay messages between his self and a younger, less civilized, less devoted, (yet amazingly adept at picking up on all the right tactics) version of himself. (Someone I like to refer to as Jason version 2.0).
Finally, every modern day detective must own the wheels to get the job done and still make it to Esso in time to run her through the wash. Unfortunately for our man Van De Vyvere, the very "set of wheels" he owns would never be able to sustain the damage of the rough brissels used in an everyday American car-wash. What I'm saying, of course, is that this genius has spent years developing a car that needs no washing, because the self-cleaning mechanism is beyond well-tuned. What car, you ask, could accomplish so much and ask for so little in return? Why, The Dymaxion 3000 has the answer. This handcrafted oeuvre d'art has been assembled with the greatest of precision by the finest hands in the business. The business of handcrafting hydrogen propulsed cars. Since there is simply no way of reproducing all the information concerning this road-king on paper, ours truly has been kind enough to provide us with the link to some further information on his ride. Found here is the very basic outline of what she looks like and of what specifications went into her. Let's accredit R. Buckminster Fuller with having developed the idea of the dymaxion house. A word which he formed by combining dy-maxun - the element he invented - and ion - greek for house - . Alas, let us, as civilized human beings, not forget that our man Van De Vyvere himself has the rights to the dymaxion (three-wheeled!) car stashed in his underwear drawer. Yes, although never before released on the Internet, his site was made public today at this address. Unfortunately for most of you, by the time you have clicked the link, ours truly will have already taken the site down, with the hopes of preserving the uniqueness of his car. Any normal man would fear the average citizen would print off the plans and build one of his own, only to parade it around the neighborhood, while catwalking on the two rear wheels, impressing every last one of us, and finalising the deal by passing it off as his own.
Fear not good sir, for we at politics of the business salute you!
