Monday, January 15, 2007

Fix Or Repair Daily

Don't buy American cars!

My iaido senior's roommate is this crazy Hungarian dude ("I cut those gypsies!"). Yet, he's a cool guy, and as a former mechanic, he knows cars in and out. Also, if I ever need a getaway driver, it would probably be him.

Anyways, he was riding in my Ford to my senpai's place when he noticed the engine temperature gauge needle dangerously tickling the red zone. He immediately told me to pull over and pointed it out to me. I was probably minutes or even seconds away from burning out my engine. We then had to wait until the engine cooled down to a manageable level before resuming our journey.

So the entire trip back to my senpai's house was pretty much an excruciating game of hopscotch - driving a couple of km's, pulling over and waiting for the engine to cool, then resuming another couple of km's before pulling over again. Fortunately, it was a cold day, so the engine didn't take so long to chill once we popped the hood open. If it was a hot summer day, this just wouldn't happen, and I'd have to call a BCAA tow truck.

When we finally made it to our destination, we popped open the hood and gave a closer examination with a flashlight. We realized that for some odd reason, the coolant was alarmingly empty. It was getting close to midnight, so I hopscotched to the nearest gas station that was still open for some coolant.

Now the problem should've been solved at that point, right? Perhaps with an import car, but then again, this problem may not have occurred at all in the first place. Unfortunately, I drive a "homegrown" piece of North American crap. Not only did the engine still overheat, but now I have to deal with scalding hot coolant geysering out of the coolant intake compartment like Ol' Faithful. This could only mean the cooling system is clogged and the coolant isn't circulating, so I'll have to leave my car at my senpai's and call the BCAA tow truck the next morning to take it to the mechanic.

So why are American cars so crappy? Why have they not only distanced themselves from being associated with quality for the past few decades, but also allowed foreign competitors to take over, despite the automobile industry being pioneered by Americans?

To me, the root of the issue is simple - an automobile is a complex machine. It consists of hundreds, if not thousands of moving parts which require assembly with utmost care and precision in order for all those parts to function together in a coordinated fashion as a whole unit. Only machines are capable of consistently and reliably delivering such care and precision.

The Japanese realized this, and that is why they say there are more robots in a Toyota car factory than there are in the rest of the Earth. The Americans, on the other hand, see such automation as a threat to the jobs of their workers and their families' livelihoods. That is why they still insist on putting together a good portion of their cars by hand. That is why they form unions to twist the car companies' arms to ensure that they still put together a good portion of their cars by hand. And that is why the Japanese automobile industry have overtaken the Americans in quality and profitability since the 70's.

Why can't the American labourer see that the automation of the automobile manufacturing process can also open up a lot more jobs? After all, machines need repair, maintenance, programming, upgrading, installation, monitoring, and parts purchasing. You don't really think that in the Toyota factory, they just sit back with their conbini onigiri and sip sake while waiting for those robots to churn out Camrys and RAV4's, do you?

I guess it's just that people are resistant to change because they associate the security of routine in their old jobs with the security of employment. Nevertheless, it's sadly ironic that by trying so desperately to cling onto their old jobs, they do otherwise by hastening the demise of their industry. After all, why go on strike to keep your old jobs when you'll be laid off anyway, once your company is no longer profitable enough to afford to keep you?

I'd like to see them hopscotch to work in my Ford.

Saturday, January 13, 2007

I See Dead People

I got up at freakin' 5AM this morning.

Because it was sold out during the good hours, me and some friends had to settle for the wee morning to check out the Bodyworlds 3 Exhibit (What happened to the first two?). This exhibit and its treatment of dead bodies has generated much controversy, particularly from Bible-thumpers and other religious rabble-rousing groups. But then again, The Church has always been hindering scientific progress with their accusations of heresy, so it isn't surprising. That such is the desire of the cadavers' previous owners is probably the only reason such an exhibit is happening at all.

Personally, I think this is a wonderful educational tool because, unlike the next best thing which is actual dissection, these corpses can be displayed over and over again in their plastinated state instead of requiring burial. Each body was presented artistically with beauty, grace, and dignity, yet they allow the observer to clearly see its anatomical configuration and how each body part contributes to its pose and function.

Too bad none of the exhibits could explain why my back suddenly got so damn itchy while viewing the Nervous System section of the exhibit. Or why it always seem to happen in the most awkward spot where you cannot reach. To make things worse, I still had my heavy coat on because I couldn't find the coat check, and even if I did, it would probably cost money. It was totally driving me nuts, so I was at my wit's end in utilizing my innovative faculties to come up with an immediate means to kill this itch.

That was when my eyes widened epiphanically at the arm of one of the exhibits, whose fingers were curled up in a rather effective scratching position.

I suppose it would not be an act of desecration, since the deceased had donated her body for philanthropic reasons, it would surely include her anatomical gift being used to relieve someone of their torment. In the end, I wisely decided against it because I didn't want my fascinating time to prematurely end by being hauled out by security. Instead, I managed to find a nice protruding corner of the wall to cat-rub against.

Unfortunately, no photographs were allowed in the exhibit. Instead, I've found more than enough photos to give you an idea in the official website.

No problem, glad I could lend a hand!