I made a mistake. Granted, that's hard to believe, but it's true. Many years ago, I made that fateful decision to get a job. This cut drastically into my free time, and my life has been all downhill from there. I suppose I had no choice other than to get a job, although I certainly haven't found the right career field yet. Measurable results are expected at nearly any job if there is any expectation of getting paid. That's why, if I could do it all over again, I'd be a philosopher. Nobody would ever expect any concrete results from me, so I'd be able to do even less on the job than I do now.
How does one go about entering such a line of employment? I'd only need someone to sign my paychecks while I ponder timeless questions.
"Why are we here?" "What is the meaning of life?" "Where do babies come from?" (Editor's note: Let me know if you find that answer.) Last but not least, I could answer one of the toughest questions of all time: "How do chrome accessories make a Jeep go faster?" I should clarify that I mean the accessories are chrome-plated and intended for plain Jeeps. This is not to be confused with plain accessories for Jeeps already covered in chrome.
It is a scientific fact, of course, that chrome goodies make a Jeep go faster. The magical effects of chrome plating are not limited solely to Jeeps, as it works on any sort of vehicle. As proof, I offer compelling evidence from my own misspent youth. Way back then, slightly after the earth first cooled, the Camaro was the vehicle of choice for any self-respecting, high-school drug dealer. OK, the more successful drug dealers could go upscale and spring for a Firebird instead, but the basic premise was the same. There was never any need to state your source of income if you drove a Camaro. Everybody just knew. You didn't even need the mullet.
There's more to being a big time drug dealer than merely driving the right vehicle. To outrun the police, the car had to have the hottest performance accessory known to mankind: the chrome differential cover. As preparation to enter the philosopher's union (I've already ordered the tweed blazer), I think I know why the chrome makes a difference. Notice I didn't say I know the answer, but that I think I know. Vagueness is an important aspect of philosophizing. It helps avoid that pesky expectation of quantifiable results that ruins all other fields of employment. The chrome differential cover works because of the interplay of ambient light on the parabolic surface. Photon forces are concentrated and harnessed to gain dizzying increases in vehicular acceleration.
Here's where Jeep owners show their ignorance of the physics involved. Luckily, I'm here to explain it. When a chrome differential cover is installed on a rear axle-be it on a Camaro or a Jeep-this propels the vehicle forward. A new chrome differential cover should have instructions (Editor's note: What are these "instructions" of which you speak?) containing a safety warning to make sure your brakes are in top condition. On a Jeep-due to the mistaken belief that if something is good, then more is better-chrome differential covers are often installed on the front and rear axles. If you built up a Jeep by yourself and you're not the most mechanically inclined person, or you had help from somebody who collects NASCAR belt buckles, there's a chance your front axle is installed backward. In that case, you'd have two chromed differential covers pointing in the same direction, and the exponential increase in propulsive force would make your Jeep dangerous to drive. That's obviously not good, but for the vast majority of Jeeps sporting a correctly installed front axle, another problem exists. There is no performance gain because the two differential covers point in opposite directions and cancel each other out.
Now that I've solved the vexing mystery of how chrome makes a Jeep go faster, I should be able to ace my entrance exam into the philosopher's union. Once I'm on the job, I can't wait until the first time my new boss catches me staring into space, with my feet propped up on the desk. Trust me, this has never played out well in the past. For the first time in my life, I'll have a good reply when told that I wasn't being paid to think.-Dr. Vern