Half a croissant, on a plate, with a sign in front of it saying '50c'
h a l f b a k e r y
Experiencing technical difficulties since 1999

idea: add, search, annotate, link, view, overview, recent, by name, random

meta: news, help, about, links, report a problem

account: browse anonymously, or get an account and write.

user:
pass:
register,


                                       

Automotive Acupuncture

Stick stakes into a vehicle until it works
  (+10)(+10)
(+10)
  [vote for,
against]

This has a probably fairly obvious inspiration, but never mind, it's still an idea.

If a vehicle is not working particularly well, consult your car acupuncture chart. Proceed to locate the necessary meridians and points and hammer stakes into them in the appropriate places. In some situations, this will not improve vehicular functionation. In others, however, it will do. For instance, leaking fuel, oil, water or brake fluid could be coincidentally blocked by the insertion of a pole at exactly the right angle, location and depth, and a metal pole could provide conduction across a gap left by faulty wiring. Therefore, on certain occasions it really would work. On others it wouldn't but you could still impale the undead on them, so it wouldn't be a completely wasted effort.

Alternatively, you could sabotage other vehicles by keeping exact copies of them in your garage and sticking needles into them.

nineteenthly, Mar 28 2016

And if that doesn't work you can try this. Herbal_20gas_20additive
[doctorremulac3, Mar 30 2016]

Speed Holes https://www.youtube...watch?v=G3ja6Hn8ps4
They make the car go faster. [Cuit_au_Four, Mar 31 2016]

[link]






       Interesting. I think I will try this. Coincidentally, my ride is still running on a 60X potentisation of 1 mL of leaded gasoline I bought back in 1972.
the porpoise, Mar 28 2016
  

       Not on rose absolute then?
nineteenthly, Mar 28 2016
  

       Ahhh … now there's a thought … "homeopathic" petrol …?
8th of 7, Mar 28 2016
  

       Using a hammer is commonly referred to as "percussive maintenance". For example I used to drive a very old car which had lots of crud in the bottom of the fuel tank which would occasionally block the fuel pump. When this happened the car would stall and I'd have to get out and use some percussive maintenance on the fuel pump to make it work again.
hippo, Mar 29 2016
  

       What are the undead doing in your car?
pertinax, Mar 29 2016
  

       // "homeopathic" petrol //   

       I suppose it depends on what you're diluting it with... is there a liquid compound of U-235 ?
mitxela, Mar 29 2016
  

       +1
po, Mar 29 2016
  

       // is there a liquid compound of U-235 ? //   

       At STP, most Uranium salts are either crystalline solids, or gases; most of the solids either have high melting points, or they sublime or decompose. So, not ideal.   

       Oh, and they're generally toxic, radioactive, reactive and highly corrosive. Many are pyrophoric ... just thought we'd mention that.
8th of 7, Mar 29 2016
  

       (+)   

       (marked-for-tagline)   

       " never mind, it's still an idea "
normzone, Mar 29 2016
  

       // Ahhh … now there's a thought … "homeopathic" petrol …?   

       It was working well until my drive train caught a subluxation. That's rear-wheel drive for you. Anyone know a good driveshaft manipulator?
the porpoise, Mar 29 2016
  

       I was wet. I was always wet. I sat in a puddle by the old lady sitting in a puddle and watched the shaman bob around my K-car, head nodding, chin thrusting. “my my my woo!” he mumbled. A naked girl trailed after him, mallet in one hand and a mail carrier’s bag in the other. I marked her as half-zomb but couldn’t tell which half. “when you gonna give it up, give it up”. From the bag she passed him a long steel shaft, chromed from its prior incarnation. It might withstand the undead if it were solidly placed. As opposed to the leafy twigs that made up the majority, although I couldn’t complain. He was good. The girl brought her mallet solidly down on the chrome shaft and it rang; nice. There had been an rusty iron pipe in that place before, and a brass rod before that.   

       The old lady picked a scrap of something off of one of the old pins and added it to the pile beside her. That one had been a bike. Other reclaimed pins, rods and spears made up the clean and unclean pile. The rusty pipe was there, the bone bits cleaned from it. There was a curved carbon fiber rod which had been right on the hood. No sticks. They didn’t last long. Maybe it was a way of ensuring repeat business. The old lady poked at a cow rib and smirked at me. I shrugged. Out there you make do.   

       The girl tapped each thing once after the shaman placed it, her lank hair hanging deadly down her shoulders. “such a pretty one, pretty one,” mumbled the shaman. He was not singing about his assistant. Or my car, though it was looking better as he worked. He placed a leaf spring next to a branch then stepped aside, the girl leaning in to tap it in place.   

       The old woman offered her bottle. How can a person get thirsty inside and stay so wet outside? But he does. The water was cold and coppery, from the skein cloudcatcher at the edge of the churchyard.   

       The shaman lingered longest at the ceramic boiler, pacing back and forth, nodding and singing. I had left it hot and it steamed gently in the mist. Maybe he was deciding whether the sticks would work or if he should use metal. Maybe he was gauging the qi. These things are outside what I know. The girl waited.   

       In a flurry of motion, he alternated sticks and short shards of metal all around where the boiler joined the car. “my Sharona!” he exclaimed. The girl darted in to give each piece a tap. After pausing a moment she gave one rod a second tap, then a third. The shaman ambled over to me, rubbing his hands together. He let a handful of washers and leaves fall, then reached up and ran his fingers through my hair, slicking it back. He was done. It seemed well done.   

       I could smell the twigs by the boiler smoldering. A good sharp smell. I opened my box and lifted out the vinyl. The old lady rose from her puddle to look. They got excited about Foreigner, and brought it inside the hut without saying more.   

       The girl stood next to the car, looking at the newly placed pins and rods as though she wished there were more to tap into place. Maybe appreciating what was there. She was the only thing in view that was not muddy and I was not sure why. I was muddy. Always muddy.   

       “Feel my eyes, with that double vision”. Her lips moved silently to the music. I couldn’t tell if it was the right words. She was still watching as I drove out, turning her mallet over and over in her hands. The K-car drove like a dream. A dry dream.
bungston, Mar 29 2016
  

       <smiles and nods to [bungs], slowly backs away making placatory gestures>
8th of 7, Mar 30 2016
  

       Wow, who put the acid in my energy drink? I'm really feeling rather, well...60's ish. + for the idea, needless to say, + for [bungston].
blissmiss, Mar 30 2016
  

       Is it strange that I feel like making a short film of that now?
notexactly, Mar 30 2016
  

       I am delighted that you feel that way! It would not be expensive. You might need to film it in Vancouver or Portland.
bungston, Mar 31 2016
  

       I even happen to know a guy with a K-car, but I don't think he'd let rods and such be hammered into it. Some creative prop/effects work might be necessary.
notexactly, Mar 31 2016
  

       Blimey [bung]!
po, Mar 31 2016
  
      
[annotate]
  


 

back: main index

business  computer  culture  fashion  food  halfbakery  home  other  product  public  science  sport  vehicle