Thursday, June 11, 2009

The Igor Problem Solving Method

There are many types of constructive problem solvers in the world though, the ones that can catalyze a group of people to work in cohesion, the brilliant minds that deduce solutions by themselves, and the good old shot of common sense. Then, there is the poseur's problem solving. This is very similar to a method exhibited by the guy who had the show, Crossing Over. It involves a lot of social engineering and quite a bit of delay.

This is a topic of interest due to its uniqueness and somewhat formulaic execution. Its always the same algorithm, repeatable and predictable. I actually highly recommend it for the lazy types that have enough tact and aptitude to pull it off themselves.

Today for example, it was used in an electronics course in the university. The subject, Igor, of course was demonstrating his "God given deductive reasoning" to the victims, lets call them Sue and Laura for fun. Igor is currently in the elementary stages of his courting of Laura, it begins with a couple of generic remarks, followed by an everlasting master and bitch arrangement. I'll expand on the entire process on another day.

Anyways, the class was posed a problem on the board to solve. Not all of us are engineers, so lets simplify it into something that everyone can appreciate. The problem could be "Can I afford this $35,000 car given my current salary, X, and a 4.3% compounded interest rate on borrowing with the following expenses Y and Z?" Seems like a simple enough problem right? Fill in X, Y, and Z with whatever you choose.

We all know how a normal person would approach this problem? Now, here's the Igor approach. I call it the "Perpetual Diversion Construction". Everything below is from the mouth of Igor:

"Well, what colour is the car? I read in GQ that orange is the new black for cars, you should really try it, it goes well with your eye colour."
(Shameless compliment to the person with the brain and a blatant diversion)
"Actually, car financing is a very good idea in the state of this economy"
(Getting warmer with relevance but still a generalization nonetheless)
"4.3% isn't that bad of an interest rate considering the price bracket, I actually gave up my right testicle to get my Rabbit"
(Off topic again, but a somewhat general fact)
"You know what? I think you need to break up the cost into a month by month basis"
(Getting warmer again, there we go, but the facts are still generic and altruistic to the type of problem)
"Actually, I'm getting kind of thirsty from all this thinking, I'm going to Starbucks, do you want anything?"
(Symbolic offering because clearly he's not doing any thinking. However, he gives you the illusion that he's drenched from thinking so much. He also appears thoughtful and considerate, awwww.)
(Repeat, Repeat, Repeat).

By now you get the point, he oscillates daily conversation with brutally general facts and partial truths that contribute very little to solve the problem. But, his mouth is always open so you assume that he's working hard at solving the task at hand. The idea here is to give you the idea that he's a constructive member of this group and hope that YOU will eventually solve the damn problem so he can take partial credit and/or plagiarize to the max. Silence shows he's stuck; thus, he never shuts up.

If you need to substantiate this theory, study with the child. See how he acts around you. Then leave for 3 hours and see how much he accomplishes alone, its quite sad and pathetic. Somebody of an IB background and affluent parents, a lost puppy in the world of higher education.

The problem here is that Igor memorizes trivia and has very little true knowledge. He is the internet to an encyclopedia, the high school student to the Ph.D, the one employee who is always there but never does anything, etc. etc. He is full of face value trivia without any backing. Talk to him for 5 minutes, you'll think he's brilliant. 10 minutes and he's intelligent. 15 minutes and he has glimpses of insight. 3 hours and he's average. I don't need to explain any further, I'm sure its self-explanatory, or should I get you a coffee while I wait for you to do the thinking for me?

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

But If We Started Dating It Would Ruin Our Friendship Where I Ask You To Do Things And You Do Them

Taken From

I really like you. I do. You're so nice, and sweet, and you listen to all my problems and respond with the appropriate compliments. But, well, I don't really see a relationship in our future. It would be terrible if we let sex destroy this great friendship we have where I get everything I want and you get nothing you want. Don't you think?

I knew you would understand. You always do.

We're so perfect as friends, you know? I can tell you anything, and you know you can always come to me anytime you need to hear me bitch about work or how ugly I feel. You wouldn't want to ruin a friendship like that just so you could be my boyfriend, and have me look at you with desire and longing in my eyes, if only once—would you? Of course not. Well, if we started dating, it would only complicate this wonderful setup I've got going here.

It's just…you're like my best friend, and I would hate for something you desperately want to change that. I mean, sure, we could go on some dates, maybe mess around a little and finally validate the six years you've spent languishing in this platonic nightmare, but then what? How could we ever go back to the way we were, where I take advantage of your clear attraction to me so I can have someone at my beck and call? That part of our friendship means so much to me.

No. We are just destined to be really, really good friends who only hang out when I don't have a boyfriend, but still need male attention to boost my fragile and all-consuming ego.

Anything can happen once you bring romance in. Think about how awful my last relationship was at the end, remember? The guy I'd call you crying about at 3 a.m. because he wouldn't answer my texts? The guy I met at the birthday party you threw me? I had insanely passionate sex with him for four months and now we don't even talk anymore. God, I would die if something like that happened to us.

Plus, ick, can you even imagine getting naked in front of each other? I've known you so long, you're more like a brother that I've drunkenly made out with twice and never mentioned again. It'd be way too weird. And if we did, then whenever you'd come shopping with me, or go to one of my performances or charity events, or take me for ice cream when I've had a bad day at work, you'd be looking at me like, "I've seen her breasts." God, I can't think of anything more awkward that that.

Oh, before I forget, my mom says hi.

Anyway, you would totally hate me as your girlfriend. I'd be all needy and dramatic and slowly growing to love you. If I was your girlfriend, I would never be able to tell you all about the other asshole guys I date and pretend I don't see how much it crushes you. Let's never lose that. That's what makes us us.

Don't worry. You're so funny and smart and amazing, any girl but me would be lucky to date you. You'll find someone, I know it. And when you do, I'll be right by your side to suddenly become all flirty and affectionate with you in front of her, until she grows jealous and won't believe it when you say we're just friends. But when she dumps you, that's just what we'll be.

Best friends. Friends forever.

Monday, June 8, 2009

My New Haircut - Listen To This For the Music And Inspiration.

Oh you know, I was at the asian bubble tea place last night, got myself a make Emma jealous date...
Hey broski, get me 2 of your finest most pretentious beers...
I want a shot at the Emma Title: You know what this is? This is my new fucking haircut from Markham for $26, la. I went cheap this time, instead of $50.
You know what that means? I'll be getting some fucking v-neck pity sex tonight.
My boys, if I had any, they'd be sporting the same fucking haircut I stole from J-Pop too. They're getting some fucking manicures tonight too.
I'm going to beg every piece of pussy that comes through that door.
I'm going to do favours for them until my fucking dick falls off.

Bitches love my new haircut, la, and if they don't... fucking whitewashed.
Fucking whitewashed. Fucking whitewashed. Fucking whitewashed. Whitewashed.

Yeah, my sweater is purple and has a v-neck, cause I'm the fucking mom, and everyone should know it.

I swear to god, if David looks at me the wrong way, I'm going to start a bitch fight and make fun of his income level. You looking at me asshole?

Fucking pedicure time.
Other person: "Hey, would you like me to give you a facial to fix those bags under your eyes?"
No way dude, I'm in the fucking shopping spree zone.

I'm the fucking mom, *grunt*!

Yeah, I take estrogen pills, I eat that shit for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

I'm in control unless Emma is around... Oh noes, MOM, where's my allocated money to pay for my car, insurance, gas, clothes, and haircuts? Where's my fucking money mom? Where's my money?

Yeah I grown when I touch myself, because everyone should see how much I lust for Emma!

Oh yeah, that's from Hong Kong.

2 fucking Cosmpolitans down here chief.


I'm going to get fucking wasted tonight. I'm going to drink Heinekens and Cosmos all fucking night. Fucking cosmos, I shower in that shit with scented candles. Fucking Cosmos. Cosmos. Cosmos.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

The Ultraviolet Catastrophe

I'm going to start today by urging everyone to call Igor the UVC when they see him. This, of course, referring to the prediction in the late 19th century that an ideal black body would emit radiation at infinite power. This has nothing to do with Igor. However, his violet coloured v-neck sweater actually did emit radiant and flamboyant characteristics for the world to see. He also brought the sweater back from the dead and showed all the women of planet Earth that a lack of cleavage shouldn't stop you from showing it off.

Igor content has lowered lately so I'll try and discuss his perpetual defense of his materialistic goods. Igor is clearly defined by his possessions, we have already defined this many posts ago. Consequently, insulting his possessions renders feelings of inadequacy and angst. There are a few examples over the week, but they're absolutely delicious. I strongly recommend that anyone who sees him on a daily basis insult something that he owns - simply to watch the transformation from Igor to Angry Uptight Bitch Igor (the phrase Uptight Bitch was actually coined by a co-worker of his, but it seemed too accurate to pass up). The interesting part about his defense is that it cumulates the worst aspects of him into a single dialogue. Take this example:

Person1: Igor, your phone sucks, it can barely get reception in here.
Igor: Uhhh, no it doesn't (in a really flamboyantly angry tone)! My phone has an amazingly sensitive resistive touchscreen with a HVGA display, a 3.2mp camera, and you can't buy it in Canada, therefore, I'm more unique than you and that's why Emma is going to give me a blow job one day after I cook her dinner for the 900th time.
Person1: That's fine and dandy Igor, but it doesn't actually work, you have no signal.
Igor: It actually doesn't matter, 8.53% of people in Hong Kong don't actually use their cell phones to make calls anymore.
Person1: Right.
Igor: I love myself, I'm going to go masterbate in front of my full size mirror that I bought at Canadian Tire for $9.99 on sale because of the 10% discount I got on that day.

Just to get the message across, here's an example of a conversation I had with him last night:

Igor: Uhhh, your car is such a commoner car, you're such a generic person.
Batman: Yes, because I bought it myself, my parents in Hong Kong didn't lease it for me so that I could look cool in front of the Asian Girl Crew and be accepted.

At this point, Igor is starting to lose it, calling him out on the rich little brat that he is brings out the Uptight Bitch Complex, the UBC for short:

Igor: Uhhh, yeah, well, my car has heated seats and a really torquey 5 cylinder engine, and its made in Germany. I WIN.

He also says I WIN a lot like life is a freakin first-person-shooter video game or something. The irony here is that his hand-eye coordination is far too lacking to even be good at them.

Batman: Cool, but I don't see how that's relevant, you're still a spoiled uptight bitch wearing a v-neck violet sweater...

At this point, I decide to go all out on his car, there's no turning back, good bye Igor, here comes UBC.

Batman: Actually Igor, your car has a sagging headliner, a broken vent, a broken trunk latch, and a fuel line that clanks around because its loose. It might as well have been made in Mexico because your German engineered overpriced piece of crap has required 3 times more repairs than my commoner car and it makes you look like a Euro poseur. Furthermore, you spend more at the pump than me for far less mileage, you pay more insurance than I do, and you spend close to $100 to get an oil change at the dealership, princess.

Igor: (Fuming)... Yeah... Well... You drive a Civic! AHHHHH!!!! AARRRRRRRGH!!!!!!!...

Igor: I like my car, I like how its different, and I like how poor people can't afford it. So whatever.

Batman: But plenty of people have Rabbits? Why are you different?

Igor: I have nothing to say *stomps into room and shuts door*.

This example illustrates his love for his possessions better than ever. The best part about all of this is, he was brought up and raised to be an excellent gold digging trophy wife. He knows how to pretend to be cultured, he knows brands like no tomorrow, and he knows how to spend other people's money. All he's missing is the aforementioned cleavage and a face that doesn't require a paper bag in the bedroom.