The Hierarchy of Difficulty is, in principle, a ratings system in which various everyday tasks and situations are allocated a numerical value reflecting the degree of difficulty experienced by an individual whenst that individual encounters said everyday tasks or situations. Commonly, the rating scale is from 1 to 10, with 1 = super easy ("I am strolling through a well maintained park on a pleasantly warm summer's day whilst eating a delicious non-dripping ice-cream") and 10 = massively fucking hard ("I have reverted to a permanent foetal position, you may as well kill me now").
I have personally found the Hierarchy of Difficulty to be an effective tool in identifying irksome obstacles and assessing their level of irksomeness upon my person. This helps to give me a more concrete picture of the irksome and, thus, the extent of its evil. I am then better prepared to devise an irksome-reduction strategy. Here are some recent examples from my hierarchy, with ratings in brackets:
♣ Spelling 'hierarchy'. (5)
♣ Writing a blog post titled 'Hierarchy of Difficulty'. (4-5)
♣ Reversing out of my driveway with neighbour's bins almost obstructing driveway - with the margin of error being not more than 2 inches. (8-9)
(though closer to (7) now that I've moved bins approximately 4 inches to the north - away from the driveway - and neighbour seems not to have noticed)
(for those of you at home doing the maths, that does indeed mean that my total margin of error is now approximately 6 inches, which is still pretty tight, but I am highly skilled at driving my car in reverse out of my driveway, so I can handle it, unless I've been drinking or am experiencing a severe inner ear condition or I've got my eyes closed)
♣ Reversing out of my driveway with my eyes closed. (9-10)
♣ Talking to neighbour about bin/driveway issue. (10)
(see here for previous driveway issue involving the same neighbour)
♣ Not obsessing about the driveway irritations of neighbour. (8)
♣ Not obsessing in general. (7-8)
♣ Accurately differentiating between healthy and unhealthy obsessing. (4-5)
♣ Using my powers of obsessing for good rather than evil. (5-6)
♣ Not obsessing to the point of freaking myself out. (3-4)
♣ Establishing a personality that is not easily freaked out. (5)
♣ Establishing a personality that is not easily freaked out by other people. (6-7)
♣ Establishing a personality that does not easily freak out other people. (6)
♣ Deciding whether or not to care about people freakage in general. (1-10)
♣ Finding a job commensurate with my ability to hold it down. (7)
♣ Determining my level of ability in the 'job holding down' arena. (7-8)
♣ Focusing on the positives rather than the negatives. (1-10)
♣ Maintaining high enough energy levels - physical, mental, emotional - to cope with everyday obstacles. (1-10)
♣ Not giving in to Asperger type tendencies. (7-8)
♣ Giving in to Asperger type tendencies. (1)
♣ Going to the supermarket. (1-10)
♣ Finishing blog posts. (1-10)
Friday, 17 October 2014
Monday, 15 September 2014
TARDIS as TEAPOT
The TARDIS (as seen in Dr Who) possesses many extraordinary capabilities - time travel, space travel, sentience, telepathy, babel fish like language translation, wacky dimensional manipulations and distortions. But one of its lesser known (though tremendously important) capabilities, is its capacity to manifest as a teapot:
I wonder if the TARDIS teapot brews vastly greater quantities of tea than its exterior size would suggest.
A strange, feline induced, time-space-teapot-TARDIS paradox occurred:
I wonder if the TARDIS teapot brews vastly greater quantities of tea than its exterior size would suggest.
A strange, feline induced, time-space-teapot-TARDIS paradox occurred:
Friday, 22 August 2014
Contemplative Kitty Lounging on Wooden Chair
Due to the rampant (and entirely justified) popularity of black and white photos of cats (start here, also here), this blog finds it necessary to include such a photo (see below). Note the masterful use of sunlight and shadow and chair (and cat). The unused power socket symbolizes disconnection.
[Model: Ms Willow]
[Model: Ms Willow]
Wednesday, 30 July 2014
Mountain of Video Tape
As The Age of the Video Tape Cassette is increasingly consigned to the annals of history, I find myself burdened with, well, video tape cassettes. And with the perplexing issue of what to do with my old video tape cassettes, and especially with the ones that I recorded my favourite shows/movies onto as I now, mostly, have these on dvd. They're not readily recyclable, nor are they overly biodegradable. And second hand shops are not so interested in video tapes anymore, particularly ones with shows/movies recorded from the television.
It's a challenge that must be tackled, and one that is ripe for intelligent and innovative problem solving. But as it is me who is in charge, the solving will happen not only in defiance of intelligence or innovation but with some measure of bumbling.
After hardly any consideration, I decided to go with blithely pulling apart the video tape cassettes, discarding the plastic casings into the recycle bin (hopefully they are recyclable), and unwinding the magnetic tape and dumping it onto my coffee table - and thus creating a majestic (and mysterious) video tape mountain.
Behold the mountain (side view):
from above:
closer and more blob-like (using creepifying special effects):
The video tape mountain is really quite awesome and adds a unique ambiance to my flat. At times, I wonder if there is a hidden message contained within the mountain; perhaps someone/something is trying to communicate with me via my subconscious and has guided me to create the mountain (like in that movie Close Encounters of the Third Kind). At other times, I worry that the mountain is actually sentient and possibly mobile (like in that movie The Blob), and then I don't sleep so well. And then there are times when I don't know where to put down my cup of coffee (like in that movie I Don't Know Where to Put Down My Cup of Coffee*).
*I cannot provide a link since this is a made up movie
It's a challenge that must be tackled, and one that is ripe for intelligent and innovative problem solving. But as it is me who is in charge, the solving will happen not only in defiance of intelligence or innovation but with some measure of bumbling.
After hardly any consideration, I decided to go with blithely pulling apart the video tape cassettes, discarding the plastic casings into the recycle bin (hopefully they are recyclable), and unwinding the magnetic tape and dumping it onto my coffee table - and thus creating a majestic (and mysterious) video tape mountain.
Behold the mountain (side view):
from above:
closer and more blob-like (using creepifying special effects):
The video tape mountain is really quite awesome and adds a unique ambiance to my flat. At times, I wonder if there is a hidden message contained within the mountain; perhaps someone/something is trying to communicate with me via my subconscious and has guided me to create the mountain (like in that movie Close Encounters of the Third Kind). At other times, I worry that the mountain is actually sentient and possibly mobile (like in that movie The Blob), and then I don't sleep so well. And then there are times when I don't know where to put down my cup of coffee (like in that movie I Don't Know Where to Put Down My Cup of Coffee*).
*I cannot provide a link since this is a made up movie
Saturday, 19 July 2014
Evaporative Cooler as Art
Now that the planet is on fire, due to global warming, I've had to obtain a cooling device more powerful than a fan. I've chosen an evaporative cooler:
Unfortunately, the evaporative cooler takes up some degree of space in my modestly sized flat, and it's not the most inspiring entity. Also, it's really only in use for about 2 weeks per year (though this time span may increase as global temperatures increase). So, rather than allowing the evaporative cooler to become an ongoing and intrusive eyesore in my living space, I've decided to turn it into an evocative and aesthetically pleasing art piece (note the chain-link feature, constructed from unused hair pins, which symbolically expresses the eternal existential angst of existence):
Ms Willow is quite moved:
Unfortunately, the evaporative cooler takes up some degree of space in my modestly sized flat, and it's not the most inspiring entity. Also, it's really only in use for about 2 weeks per year (though this time span may increase as global temperatures increase). So, rather than allowing the evaporative cooler to become an ongoing and intrusive eyesore in my living space, I've decided to turn it into an evocative and aesthetically pleasing art piece (note the chain-link feature, constructed from unused hair pins, which symbolically expresses the eternal existential angst of existence):
Ms Willow is quite moved:
Friday, 4 July 2014
Exclamation Points are Infiltrating this Blog!!!
!!!
Increasingly, as this blog continues to be written, there are recurring manifestations of exclamation points. Frequently, as evidenced in the last two blog posts, both the blog title and the blog entry will contain exclamation points. And, perhaps portentously, these exclamation points have often been appearing in threes.
According to Wikipedia, "the exclamation point or exclamation mark is a punctuation mark usually used after an interjection or exclamation to indicate strong feelings or high volume (shouting)".
The exclamation point, sometimes referred to as the Lion of Punctuation, is certainly the king of the (punctuation) jungle. It is the warrior of the writing world. When a battle cry is needed or a terribly important idea demands to be expressed emphatically, the exclamation point heeds the call. It also has a commanding presence in the other areas in which it is found - eg maths, signage, computing.
So, why do exclamation points keep showing up in this blog? What is their intention? What is it about this blog - at this point in time - that attracts them?
I suspect the answer lies in what I would describe as my current requirement for 'high volume' as a means to motivate myself. And I don't mean listening to Metallica turned up to 11 or shouting at the stars; though these approaches are not without merit. I think my natural inclination to inertia may be holding me back from things I would maybe like to be doing. At the very least, I think I'm spending a little too much time alone in my flat (actually Ms Willow Pussycat's flat - maybe she would like to have the flat to herself for a change!). It may be the case that some extra energy is needed to activate some action, and blogging with exclamation points may assist with this 'energy creation'.
Or else the end of the world is nigh, and the exclamation points - particularly when they appear in threes - serve to warn of this impending doom!
!!!
Increasingly, as this blog continues to be written, there are recurring manifestations of exclamation points. Frequently, as evidenced in the last two blog posts, both the blog title and the blog entry will contain exclamation points. And, perhaps portentously, these exclamation points have often been appearing in threes.
According to Wikipedia, "the exclamation point or exclamation mark is a punctuation mark usually used after an interjection or exclamation to indicate strong feelings or high volume (shouting)".
The exclamation point, sometimes referred to as the Lion of Punctuation, is certainly the king of the (punctuation) jungle. It is the warrior of the writing world. When a battle cry is needed or a terribly important idea demands to be expressed emphatically, the exclamation point heeds the call. It also has a commanding presence in the other areas in which it is found - eg maths, signage, computing.
So, why do exclamation points keep showing up in this blog? What is their intention? What is it about this blog - at this point in time - that attracts them?
I suspect the answer lies in what I would describe as my current requirement for 'high volume' as a means to motivate myself. And I don't mean listening to Metallica turned up to 11 or shouting at the stars; though these approaches are not without merit. I think my natural inclination to inertia may be holding me back from things I would maybe like to be doing. At the very least, I think I'm spending a little too much time alone in my flat (actually Ms Willow Pussycat's flat - maybe she would like to have the flat to herself for a change!). It may be the case that some extra energy is needed to activate some action, and blogging with exclamation points may assist with this 'energy creation'.
Or else the end of the world is nigh, and the exclamation points - particularly when they appear in threes - serve to warn of this impending doom!
!!!
Saturday, 21 June 2014
Move Your Car!!!
[Subtitle: I'm using this blog post to snark indirectly at my neighbour instead of snarking directly at her as that may be too confrontational and possibly lead to violence and I really would (mostly) prefer to solve this issue in a peaceful manner]
Dear Annoying Neighbour (front flat),
The problem with your firm belief in your 'entitlement' to park behind me in the driveway such that I cannot get my car out, is that you actually have NO entitlement to do this. And, more importantly, I actually have a legal right to move my car in and out of my parking space whenever the hell I like. I also have a legal right to get both you and your car booted off the property if you keep blocking my car (which I'm currently in the process of doing). So, you might want to start parking in your allocated parking space - to the side of the driveway - if you don't want to get evicted (surely not being able to park in the driveway is a somewhat minor inconvenience compared to being evicted).
You seem to think that it's perfectly reasonably for me to have to knock on your door every time I want to take my car out and that I'm being mean by not agreeing to such an arrangement. Would you agree to it, if you lived in the back flat?
Your strategies to try to get me to swap parking spaces with you have not been without some measure of creativity. Your appeal to my 'compassionate' side ('my life is harder than your life, so I deserve to park in the driveway/under the carport', or something like that) whilst not being original (or true) was executed with some flair. Your attempts to passively-aggressively bully me by being slow to come to the door when I knocked and then being hostile about moving your car (in effect, trying to make it so difficult for me to get my car out that I give up and start parking in your spot) were unexpected and initially unsettled me, but now I'm battle ready and prepared for the onslaught. Your self appointed role of being gate-keeper to my life is making my angry and defiant, not submissive (your understanding of human nature seems a little misguided here). But you really are wasting your energy because there ain't no way I'm giving up my (allocated) parking space (which I've grown quite fond of over the years).
I accept that my parking space is a little nicer than yours. I park under a carport (though I do have to park right in front of my doorway, which some people might not like), whereas you park under a tree (but the area in front of your flat is clear). But your argument that you have a right to a carport is pretty wild. You, as a human being, have a right to shelter, your car does not. Unfortunately (for you), when I moved in (many years ago), the flat with the carport was vacant so I took it (not because of the carport, that was just a bonus). Maybe one day I'll die an untimely death and you can move into my flat and park under the carport. (Warning: if I am murdered, I will be exercising my right as a spirit-in-limbo to haunt the hell out of my flat). But, for the present, you'll have to park in the side spot or find somewhere else with a carport and move there.
You are being immature and illogical and a bully, and something you need to realise is that the tactics you are using on me to try to get your way may have worked when you were in high school or living at home, but in the real world they are likely to get you evicted from a tenancy or fired from a job. But I think the most important thing you need to realise, the thing that you are foolishly failing to appreciate, is that I'm just as big a cotton candy ass as you!
Bite me,
Effulgent13 (back flat)
[UPDATE/EDIT (6/8/2014): The driveway/parking situation is now under control! The front neighbour is now parking in the spot to the side of the driveway (and has gotten the tree cut down, making that spot a much better parking space). All is now (seemingly) calm in our driveway.]
Dear Annoying Neighbour (front flat),
The problem with your firm belief in your 'entitlement' to park behind me in the driveway such that I cannot get my car out, is that you actually have NO entitlement to do this. And, more importantly, I actually have a legal right to move my car in and out of my parking space whenever the hell I like. I also have a legal right to get both you and your car booted off the property if you keep blocking my car (which I'm currently in the process of doing). So, you might want to start parking in your allocated parking space - to the side of the driveway - if you don't want to get evicted (surely not being able to park in the driveway is a somewhat minor inconvenience compared to being evicted).
You seem to think that it's perfectly reasonably for me to have to knock on your door every time I want to take my car out and that I'm being mean by not agreeing to such an arrangement. Would you agree to it, if you lived in the back flat?
Your strategies to try to get me to swap parking spaces with you have not been without some measure of creativity. Your appeal to my 'compassionate' side ('my life is harder than your life, so I deserve to park in the driveway/under the carport', or something like that) whilst not being original (or true) was executed with some flair. Your attempts to passively-aggressively bully me by being slow to come to the door when I knocked and then being hostile about moving your car (in effect, trying to make it so difficult for me to get my car out that I give up and start parking in your spot) were unexpected and initially unsettled me, but now I'm battle ready and prepared for the onslaught. Your self appointed role of being gate-keeper to my life is making my angry and defiant, not submissive (your understanding of human nature seems a little misguided here). But you really are wasting your energy because there ain't no way I'm giving up my (allocated) parking space (which I've grown quite fond of over the years).
I accept that my parking space is a little nicer than yours. I park under a carport (though I do have to park right in front of my doorway, which some people might not like), whereas you park under a tree (but the area in front of your flat is clear). But your argument that you have a right to a carport is pretty wild. You, as a human being, have a right to shelter, your car does not. Unfortunately (for you), when I moved in (many years ago), the flat with the carport was vacant so I took it (not because of the carport, that was just a bonus). Maybe one day I'll die an untimely death and you can move into my flat and park under the carport. (Warning: if I am murdered, I will be exercising my right as a spirit-in-limbo to haunt the hell out of my flat). But, for the present, you'll have to park in the side spot or find somewhere else with a carport and move there.
You are being immature and illogical and a bully, and something you need to realise is that the tactics you are using on me to try to get your way may have worked when you were in high school or living at home, but in the real world they are likely to get you evicted from a tenancy or fired from a job. But I think the most important thing you need to realise, the thing that you are foolishly failing to appreciate, is that I'm just as big a cotton candy ass as you!
Bite me,
Effulgent13 (back flat)
[UPDATE/EDIT (6/8/2014): The driveway/parking situation is now under control! The front neighbour is now parking in the spot to the side of the driveway (and has gotten the tree cut down, making that spot a much better parking space). All is now (seemingly) calm in our driveway.]
Wednesday, 4 June 2014
The 49 cents is OURS!!!
"Unfortunately your electricity account has been undercharged due to an incorrect Meter Reading."
Look, I probably would have just spent the 49 cents that my electricity company undercharged me on alcohol and drugs and psychics. So, really, it's a good thing that they followed up on collecting this missing money. And, sure, the 49 cents probably won't even cover the cost of postage, paper, ink and personnel required to mail out the amended electricity bill, but this is a minor drawback compared to the ecstatic anal retentiveness of making damn sure that every single kilowatt of power is PAID FOR. No freebies. Good day, Sir!
Look, I probably would have just spent the 49 cents that my electricity company undercharged me on alcohol and drugs and psychics. So, really, it's a good thing that they followed up on collecting this missing money. And, sure, the 49 cents probably won't even cover the cost of postage, paper, ink and personnel required to mail out the amended electricity bill, but this is a minor drawback compared to the ecstatic anal retentiveness of making damn sure that every single kilowatt of power is PAID FOR. No freebies. Good day, Sir!
Friday, 16 May 2014
"CALLING ALL FUN FUNKY PEOPLE"
If by "funky" you mean questionable hygiene standards, then I'm your gal! And if by "fun" you mean weird loner, then call me now!
Why do job ads never call for "languid morose socially inept underachievers"?
Also, the job ad from which I got the title of this blogpost wants "fun funky people" for retail (ok), sales (ok), bar (ok), hospitality (ok) AND CONSTRUCTION (wtf!). Since when does construction require funky. Not that "funky" and "construction" are mutually exclusive (just ask The Village People). But, perhaps, other qualities - fitness, endurance, manual dexterity, familiarity with operating a crane - might be more important. Still, the ability to wear a hard-hat and steel-capped boots with pizazz can't be underestimated.
Why do job ads never call for "languid morose socially inept underachievers"?
Also, the job ad from which I got the title of this blogpost wants "fun funky people" for retail (ok), sales (ok), bar (ok), hospitality (ok) AND CONSTRUCTION (wtf!). Since when does construction require funky. Not that "funky" and "construction" are mutually exclusive (just ask The Village People). But, perhaps, other qualities - fitness, endurance, manual dexterity, familiarity with operating a crane - might be more important. Still, the ability to wear a hard-hat and steel-capped boots with pizazz can't be underestimated.
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