hu 唬

Hail the hu!






(BTW, the relevant name here is Duchamp, not Champollion.)

Volvo vs. Smørebrød

Just in case anybody wonders, after the last post...
Yes, there's still some other things in my life.

Like Smørebrød.

I've mentioned parts of this story to different sides already... but the latest turn just happened on Saturday.

So... (rewind to, well, about one year ago)

The engine wasn't running smoothly, some rather erratical ignition problems were around. Especially when the engine was cold, especially when I accelerated. An appointment at the local Volvo dealer was agreed upon - grounded in the belief that a certified Volvo garage could probably crack down on the maybe electronical problem most quickly and efficiently.
It's always quite a deal to get to the local Volvo dealer here - it's further out, and one needs to plan how to get back home, and return to the car to pick it up later. Yes, there's no replacement car service.
Next day upon pick-up, I was handed my car, left the premises, and it became very clear very quickly that the problem has gotten worse. I u-turned, returned the car and had somebody drive me home.
The next day, it was a little better.

(fast-forward to last winter holidays)
One cylinder failed. In the midst of the winter holiday trip, with many people relying on Smørebrød to function. It's was not catastrophic, there's enough cylinders to keep the car running, but slowly creeping up steep alpine roads to over 2000m above sea level isn't everybody's idea of fun.
On Jan 2nd, the next Volvo dealer was assigned the task of tackling with this issue. When I received the car back, I was told one ignition cable was broken, but they had no replacement parts for my less-than-ten-years old model in their garage. So I left the authorized Volvo dealer with a hand-woven, manually repaired cable.

(fast-forward to 1.5 months ago)
Spring's coming, a nice, working car would be great.
Two minor problem have nagged me for some time; since they came to my mind together, I decided to give the local Volvo dealer another shot. (After the dealership had gone bankrupt, and found a white knight in the shape of another multi-branch dealership which bailed them out and took over operations, there was enough reason for me to believe they might be running smoothly now.)
I got an appointment, organized a colleague of mine who accompanied me there and dropped me off in the afternoon there again, left my car there, and returned in the afternoon.
I was not told any results, I had to wait while my keys were being searched for, I was told to be patient while the invoice was being searched for... I left the place later without a report, or an invoice, or any kind of account of what had been done. When I entered my car, I soon found that nothing had been repaired. Everything I had asked for was in the same state as before. Not even ashtrays cleaned, as the very bottom of what might be construed as service.
Somewhat naïvely I assumed somebody had messed up, and that would be it. However, several weeks later I received an invoice... 70 EUR for what I perceived as zero achievement.
I tried to reach the working proprietor three times, was promised callbacks which failed to materialize, then I showed up there personally. (Insert some heated discussion here.)
We agreed upon the actual replacement of one part on terms actually favourable to me; it had to be ordered first, then I'd be called back.
Needless to mention this callback failed to materialize as well.
A week later, I called, and to my astonishment I was offered an appointment without problems.
This Saturday, I showed up there, handed over my car keys, sat down, got a coffee, and started reading. A few minutes later, a crestfallen technician appeared in front of me, showed me a part, and told me there's bad news. They received a wrong part.

So.
Is it just my personal impression, or does anybody share my point of view - which places any kind of authorized Volvo dealerships at the bottom of technical competence and customer relationship management?

Hide preview / Recover post (for lack of a better title)

Well.

Somebody said my blog is not telling anything personal. It's a blank, personally and psychologically... so here's something to all of you which might make you babble, blab, cackle, chatter, converse, gab, gabble, gas, jabber, jaw, palaver, patter, prate, prattle, rap, rattle, run on, talk, twitter, visit, or gossip, tattle, or just shoot the breeze.
(Prepositions are always the most difficult part in foreign languages - do you say to babble, blab, cackle, chatter, converse, gab, gabble, gas, jabber, jaw, palaver, patter, prate, prattle, rap, rattle, run on, talk, twitter, visit, or gossip, tattle, or just shoot the breeze about?)

Somebody else mentioned my wanton lifestyle. Or licentious? Whatever, it's my lifestyle, so I think I have to bear it; but sure - I'm still open to good advice.
Good advice, however, is not coming in galore; and well, yes, I'm not asking for it actively, usually. And this here is not a request for good advice, either. It's more of a question: Is it that I'm an exceptionally good actor in keeping up a good face, or is everybody looking the other way?

So... for a long long time, I've been teetering on the brink of a nervous breakdown. However, it's not a guy's to succumb to one, so instead it's been... well, teetering.
Three years ago, I was happy. More or less unrestrictedly.
Two years ago, I was just satisfied.
One year ago, I was stressed.
Since then, I have been mostly unconditionally unhappy.

What a career, huh.

Last weekend I paid a long-overdue visit, and it helped me a lot. I found I don't need to try to keep up a place - in my heart, in others', whereever - just because I don't want to cause hurt.
Leaving this old place - allegedly - won't cause hurt.
Thank you. (Really.)

With this thing off my mind, I found I'm facing another issue. There's no place to go to. Or I don't know where to go to.
I find myself coming home after work, slumping down on the couch, switching on the TV set, and moronically wasting away the evenings until late at night.
This might happen once. Or twice. But no, it's happening every day. For a long time already. Hearing this from anybody else, I'd write off that guy as dumb, boring, or both. However, it's happening to me, so it's kind of a personal problem.
I keep escaping to office on weekends to get the impression of being productive.

If there were one single thing I'd have to pinpoint to put blame on, it would be this:



It's not anybody's fault. It just happens that phones are a problem. Am I irrational? Do I sound crazy? Probably I do... I'm lucid enough to see that. However, it remains an issue that the following chain of events completely freaks me out recently...

Since some technical details of my phone contract were changed a few months ago, an incoming call triggers my answering machine first.
It beeps. It's a short, hard, loud beep.
A short silence follows, succeeded by the start of the phone handset ringing shortly after.
It rings. It doesn't ring continously. Its volume ramps up to a maximum, stays there for a while, then the handset klicks and the cycle starts anew. Inbetween, not all rings come regularly. It's more closely resembling a case of arrhythmia.
After several more rings, the answering machine picks up.
Silence while the answering machine talks to the phone line.
Then, some beeping emanates from the machine; the sound of the line after the phone has been hung up on the other side.
Sometimes, this whole sequence is ensued by a starting vibration somewhere else in my apartment; the mobile starts ringing.

Not even after, no - during the first beep my heart starts pounding hard. It completely freaks me... it's not beating, it's pounding.

I hate it.

I found myself switching off the phone more and more often recently. Including mobile. Including answering machine.

I'm not blaming anyone. Obviously I just focused everything on telecommunications.
Many, many of my most intense feelings and experiences have revolved around the phone, for many years. Mind, I'm not talking dirty talk here. But nearly every important decision in my personal life has been done on the phone. I've had lots of very personal emotions transmitted down the handset.
My phone is running out of ringtones I can switch to which are not emotionally laden. Can it be I need to buy a new phone just because it would ring differently?

Somehow, I need to get some things straight. Emotions always take me too long. I'm running out of concentration. I'm running of out emotion. And I'm running out of personal life. Prime, quality, personal life.

Homo homini lupus est

Today, the unthinkable happened.

It is not so much that the laws of physics were trespassed. It is not so much that a single induhvidual tripped over a (metaphorical) wire spanned on purpose. Rather, two induhviduals A, B working as a team joined forces to commit a series of unthinkables.

It ended with each of them being on different teams in our post-lunch kicker match, and one (A) contributed to the loss of our (my) team, the other (B), well, being on the winner team (the other).
Before that, one (B) closed the door of the other's (A's) car.
Before that, everyone else on the (A's) car got out, shaking the car and making the (A's car's) door scrape hard on the side of, guess, Smørebrød.
Before that, one (B) opened the (A's car's) door hard, impacting hard on, guess, Smørebrød's side.
Before that, the other (A) parked the car right next to, guess, Smørebrød, shutting down the engine several seconds before the (A's) car came to a stop and decelerating with the hand brake. Of course, this maneouvre didn't allow to park further away from, guess, Smørebrød, than about 30 cm. Needless to say, on an otherwise nearly deserted parking lot.
Before that, both wide-body persons (A, B) teamed up to sit on the same side of the (A's) car.

Granted, it's not the first scrape or bump on Smørebrød, but definitely the most stupid. Or say, the necessity-to-IQ ratio is definitely the lowest.
Cower in shame, A and B. Cower in shame.

---

Due to popular demand and numerous inquiries, I show the full extent of the damage heinously done in the following exhibit:

Oryx Church

Finally, almost a year after its opening, I found the time to stop by this church right next to GSP. Only because a colleague finally managed, too. It's been tempting me to visit it from the first day I saw its glass walls behind the construction covers...

Watschenfeld 2006

End of March, our workgroup's been to Watschenfeld for a weekend seminar for the third time (since I'm in).



We RAs are supposed to present our scientific aims and progress there. However, as life isn't all work and no play, we've had enough time to indulge in some darker passions as well.
In the beginning, there was still some time to smile. Especially when you're as cool as we are.




This stuff is called a Sommerrodelbahn (Summer Tobogganing Facility), where you're strapped to a small wheeled cart running on rails, and pulled uphill. Slowly.




Downhill goes much faster.




But we survived, anyway.



There was some science and discussing going on as well.
And kicker and billiard.