My car is as dead as German Expressionism and modesty. Oh, it might be resurrected, but doing so would require purchasing a Matchbox model of my car, booking a trip to Haiti, and meeting with a witch doctor, who would then perform all manner of bizarre and biblically unsound rituals upon the unsuspecting die cast miniature machine. The act of which would cause my Honda, sitting back stateside in its garagean berth, to rise from its mechanical grave with a rumble, leak several gallons of evil-smelling oil, and begin marauding all over Los Angeles. And since I haven’t yet received my California state tags (and by received, I mean I haven’t registered for them), police efforts to stop the rampaging zombie car of death would end in a futile OJ Simpson-like chase down the 405.
This scenario presents certain advantages, and I’ll enumerate those before moving forward.
1) Infinite power. No more four cylinder weak willied attempts at passing someone whilst attempting to prevent being hit head on by the oncoming semi. A Voodoo Honda Civic possesses pretty much the get up and go that you require. Simply stick a pin hard on the miniature gas pedal, and the full size does what it once took a tank of NOS and a Ludacris-powered soundtrack to accomplish.
2) Meaner sound. Normal Civics sound something like a cross between a starving kitten and a chorus of anemic whales performing “The Pines of Rome” for Fantasia 2. Voodoo Civics sound like the elements of the universe being molded by the hand of God. Need I say more? But I will.
3) Unstoppable by normal means. An average Civic can be stopped by any number of objects or roadblocks, including steel spiked grates, police roadblocks, sidewalk curbs, small babies, etc. A Voodoo Civic carries with it the mindless strength of the driving dead. Thus normal obstacles become a playground of destruction, and what used to stop it now merely serves as fuel for an unholy rampage of driving fury and awesomeness.
4) Decrepit look now “in”. It’s true, my current Civic is a beaten and bruised cage of dirty napkins, gas receipts, Mountain Dew cans, an atlas from 2001, and my Transatlantica CD by Death Cab For Cutie. But once converted to its proposed bewitched state, these would become decorations for a rolling paen to horror and blasphemy. And I mean that in the best way. Not only that, the exterior, featuring chipped and faded paint, dented panels, rusty sidewalls, missing hubcaps, and a broken signal lamp cover, would no longer incite laughter and mockery, but would instead instill fear, loathing, and grudging respect in all who gazed upon its decayed and yet strength-filled body.
In short, I think it’s fairly clear that converting my poor red baby into a menacing monster of aggression and feckless lane changing is the way to go. Unfortunately, the cheapest witch doctors still charge $300 to let the caged beast to sing again. So much for dreams.
In job search news, the two big motion graphics projects I’ve been working on for a month or more are now complete. I’ll update this post a little later with links to the movie files. Eventually I’ll put up a portfolio page which may prove useful in getting a job. So far I’ve been turned down for five job applications, and it may be that getting a decent portfolio up might turn some heads more than my impressive resume.
Resumes are meant to be impressive–it’s sort of the point of their existence–so it always strikes me as odd when I read one that is less than such. My resume reads like a veritable Knight’s tale of jobs conquered and clients rescued. Not that I’m an impressive employee, or even a person, but I know how to write a resume that looks good. I’ve been commended twice now on my credentials and experience, but I think what employers are looking for is work I’ve done. So I’ve started initial design work on what will probably become my temporary portfolio page, which will of course eventually morph into my permanent portfolio once I realize that I’m not going to turn my temporary portolio into my permanent one.
As fascinating as all this is, I’m sure you’re poking your eyes out with corn skewers by now. Just end it! So I’ll leave you all with a warning: if you see a dirty red Honda Civic lurching down Rodeo Drive sometime in the near future…no, it’s not the anti-Christ; I’ve just come into some money and have made a creature that cannot be killed except through certain unspeakable spells. Just steer clear and try not to make it angry.
You wouldn’t like it when it’s angry. See you tomorrow.