I'm reminded of the scene in Ghostbusters when Dan Ackroyd tells Gozer that by the power vested in him by the State and Municipality of New York, Gozer is to return to his home dimension immediately.
Bill Murray: "That ought to do it; thanks, Ray."
Gozer then asks, "Are you a god?"
Gozer: "Then die!" And unleashes some kind of attack which nearly knocks the Ghostbusters off the roof of the building.
Sanctions. "That ought to do it. Thanks, Barry."
Meanwhile, Ahmadinejehad-saheeb-skyhook says, "[The sanctions] are like a used handkerchief and should be thrown in a garbage can." He's not even remotely worried about them. Why? Because they won't do squat, that's why.
* * *
"It is probable that atmospheric scientists were wrong about CFCs."
* * *
The Escort got noisy yesterday.
Over the past couple of weeks I've been noticing that it's exhaust began sounding flatulent. You know the sound; you've heard a car with a four-cylinder engine and a leaky exhaust system go past, making that peculiar rasping buzz.
The flex pipe went again. I bought parts and jacked up the car and replaced it. It took maybe fifteen minutes to do.
...there's an oil leak somewhere under there. Damn it.
It's not the rear main seal--thank God!--and it's not the oil pan gasket. It's not the oil pressure sensor. I don't know what it is. It might be the RTV at the corners of the oil pan, where the gasket doesn't completely seal; I might not have used enough. But I can't tell for sure, and dropping the oil pan is a big enough job that I don't want to do it if I don't have to. (Step one: remove exhaust system. *sigh*)
The dipstick reported that the oil was a quart low. It hasn't been all that long since I changed the oil, so it's obviously a pretty good leak. As if I hadn't figured that out already, judging by all the oil on the underside of the engine.
...in the process of trying to figure out WTF it was coming from I discovered that the passenger side axle shaft has an awful lot of play in it. That rumble I hear when driving at 55 might be from that.
So among other things I'm going to have to get a leak detection kit, the kind with UV dye, and see what turns up. And then fix it.
On the plus side, Advance Auto is now stocking the correct kind of flex joint: the kind with the braided stainless steel outer jacket and a corrugated inner which bends very easily. It costs about $28 and of course the size I needed was out of stock, but they do have them. I'm going to have to figure out how to install it (once they have the correct size) but I'm probably going to go ahead and do it, because I like that better than having to replace the flex coupling every eight to ten months.
Wherever the oil is coming from, it's getting onto the CV axle, which is then flinging it all over the damn place. My clean engine is a greasy mess and I haven't even put 1,000 miles on it yet....
* * *
Carol is awesome. I don't mind voluptuous women.
BTW, let me say here again that I really, really hate white text on black background. Since most of the Internet runs on a white (or at least a light-colored) background, when I come across the occasional white-on-black, I then have to spend several seconds blinking away afterimages of white-on-black before I can read black-on-white. It's hard on the eyes.
I used to do nothing but. I had programs for my C-64 which would set the screen color to white-on-black automatically. I wrote a short machine code program to do it so all I had to hit was "sys828" and hit the enter key. (I wanted to write an interrupt routine so I could use the function keys to set them, but I could never get it to work.)
...but this is 2010 and we're long past the days of greenscreen dumb terminals. Guys, they don't charge you more for white backgrounds, okay?
* * *
In another one of those "science learns something everyone knew all along" things, apparently a study has shown that fat women have trouble getting men.
Gee, most men like skinny women? Who would have thought that?
...it's a social construct, not genetic. 300 years ago men liked 'em with a bit of meat on 'em, becuase "fat" meant "rich". Now "skinny" means "rich". Of course, we're speaking in relative terms; "fat" 300 years ago typically meant something we'd call "moderate overweight". A few extra pounds here and there, maybe as many as 20-30. Voluptuous.
Even 300 years ago, the round blobs out there would be considered too fat. Okay, the "quarter-ton mom" would be just as much of a turn-off to folks from 1710 as they are in 2010.
Carol (see the link above) falls into the "voluptuous" category. The thing is, in modern society, that's "fat" and a lot of guys don't like it. They want the skinny supermodel instead, preferably with the same cup size, and plenty won't even consider someone shaped like Carol.
* * *
I finished United States of Atlantis last night, finally. Good book; and there's another one in the series (Liberating Atlantis) but it's in hardcover right now. So I'll wait for paperback.
* * *
The projected high for today is 90° and the dewpoint is near 70°, so I'm attempting to stay indoors today. I purposely braved the (lesser) heat yesterday to get the Escort fixed with this in mind.
We'll see how well I do, but I suppose I won't mind going out to pick up dinner if that's what we end up deciding on. I'm certainly not going to do any work outside in this muggy heat.
On to Azeroth!