Windoze

It is the story of a man versus a machine. I am that man, and the machine is Korea’s clanking, whistling, thumping, hawking and spitting, hollering, honking, loudspeaker vending, crap-dragging, ajumma recycling, random construction noise-making machine.

This story is of is how I, if not defeating the monster, tamed it a little. And I did it using the following household tools (first three as seen in the illustrative graphic):

1) USB cord (for measuring purposes)
2) Costco Envelope (marked for measuring purposes)
3) Knife (for cutting and dreaming.. oh yes.. dreaming….)
4) Half-full bottle of grape juice
5) About the same amount of Soju

Korea being Korea, all the parts needed were found within a five-block radius. Korea is the homeland of distributed marketing and all I had to do was take a short walk before I found a little garage that sold all manner of construction materials. All materials involved in this triumph of the will came to me at a cost slightly below $7.50 (American, for whatever that’s worth? In some other post I’ll complain about the Won being the only currency in the universe that is actually slipping against the dollar). It took a bit of measuring, about the same amount of cutting, and then a bit of shaving (and I tell yah it’s true, I can feel every draft in the room ) and the thing was done.

I have one window left to do (either with the scraps I have left, or for aesthetic reasons with another $3 worth of foam) and then I will top both windows off with a tasteful bit of fabric, to bring out the wallpaper and particularly the fact that the wallpaper features the skull of Bucky Katt (“Get Fuzzy”) in it’s pattern. But that is a post for another day.

Flushed with victory and Soju, I give you “Triumph of the Ill,” the web video. It does not include the “final” look of victory, because that has only been applied to the small window. But as soon as the other window is done, I will send a picture along, perhaps featuring a video of me painting my ass blue and dancing naked in celebration (As the result of my beloved Sister’s last comment I’m not sure if I’m Roman, Scottish, British, or just some Scandinavian cur. All I know for sure is that my name is Hadrian. I will work on this and figure out an appropriate celebration.)