I have achieved the greatest feat of my project life. A family had a big screen tv, a 1997 Hitachi, and their house got hit by lightning. They got the tv appraised to be fixed for 500 bucks, so they just got it replaced with a plasma. They put the old one on craigslist, and I picked it up and proceeded to repair it. I actually only spent 50 cents on replacement fuses. The feeling of achievement is awesome, I know that not even my biggest supporters believed I could do it; people recognize I have lots of talent and experience but still think I'm an amateur. A tv must be far too complicated. Well, I figured it out and now it works so BOO YA.

This is the TV so you can see it, it's 52 inches and all put back together.

Here you can see us playing Wii on it. The yellow bar on the top is a normal progressive scan, take a photo of any big screen tv or tube tv and you'll see something similar. Like how we have 2 huge TV's right next to each other, one for games and one for tv.

This is a diagram from the service manual which explains the diagnostic LED system, I had to understand about 60 pages of this.

Here, you can see the 2 main fuses, both fine. S901 is a relay switch for the power, it's ok. T901 is the transformer, it gets warm. Also, I901 is the mystery part all of my functional diagnosis flow charts point to, so for a while I thought that was the problem.

Here's what was strange. The protect LED was on, but leading to this circuit is F903, a fuse, which is circled on the left. I've never seen a fuse like this, how do I know if it's blown? It has no continuity across it, so I think that's it, and I'm gonna replace it with a socket and real fuse as my next step.

More pics of the board, I had to replace those 2 fuses and that did the trick. Hardly a 500 dollar fix, wouldn't you say?

This is another view of the board, as a reference. It's the whole power circuit.

  If someone who didn't know me ever heard me talk about little people, they may think I harbor some terrible ill will towards them. I hope to clear up any misconceptions with this story, and possibly inform everyone I know on one of my many strange Tallahassee experiences. Even Jenn is willing to admit now that an uncanny amount of strange things happen to me here, and I have earned the nickname "The Vortex of Weird." I don't usually prefer to use the non-preffered terminology for little people and the mentally challenged, but it adds to the impact of the story so I'm leaving them.
  This story usually begins with "A retarded midget punched me in the head once." We were at Andrew's sports bar in downtown tallahassee on a Friday night, there were maybe 16 of us at a long table eating dinner. I believe I had the chicken quesadillas. I was sitting with my back towards the wall, and the only thing behind me was the pathway to the kitchen and the bathrooms. If I remember correctly, I was wearing a t-shirt, cargos and a backwards hat. We were chatting about our weeks, eating, laughing, generally having an innocent good time. Suddenly, I feel something hit the back of my head, hard. My head actually flew forward, almost hitting the table. I look up to see the 2 people sitting in front of me with looks on their faces that screamed amazement and speechlessness. I turn around in my seat, still dazed from the blow to my head, to see a little person standing behind me! He was wearing a black shirt, a backwards black baseball cap and thick, thick glasses in front of cross-eyed eyes. As I looked at im, he thrusted his shoulders forward in such a way I would describe as "thuggish." He loudly said "What's UP! What's UP!" In my confusion, I said "not much, what's up with you?" This threw him off, he began looking to the side, and stopped shrugging his shoulders, and after a second said "nothing." I said "ok" and he said "ok" and then he walked off. The whole thing lasted about 20 seconds, and to this day I almost would think I hallucinated it if there hadn't been a whole table full of witnesses to back it up. When I turned back to the table, my friend Jillian (who was on vicodin for an injury at the time) said somethign to the effect of "dude, this vicodin is crazy, I think I just saw a midget punch you in the head." Lucas, across from me, said something like "Wow, that just happened."
  I actually saw that little person again. At Dance Marathon that year, we had gone to visit halfway through the event, and he was there walking around! I've been told by many people since I shouldn't have let him get away with hitting me, how could a 6'3, 275 lb guy get beat up by a little person, I should have drop kicked him, but to be honest the whole thing scared the crap out of me! I saw him at DM and bolted the other direction, and to be honest it's part of the reason I didn't go back to DM this year!
  Additionally, since then, whenever a little person is in my presence, people all over will bring it up and say "watch out, he's gonna get you!" An AWESOMELY IRONIC example was at the haunted house at the union this year. It was the second night and no one was really at the haunted house, I was just there to support Ryan who had done a lot of work to put the event on. He told me to wait for a group to show up and then we could go in. I waited around for a while, knowing the house wouldn't be that scary (compared to Universal's Halloween Horror Nights from the day before) so I wasn't anxious. Out of nowhere, 2 people come up to join the tour, one of them is an extremely small little person! While at the time I didn't have a problem, Ryan immediately pointed out afterwards "I bet the scariest part of that haunted house was the little person in your group!" which I of course agreed in, I can't let ironly like my most famous "fear" joining my in a haunted house go to waste!
  So there you have it, add that to the stories of the homeless guy smoking the joint in wendys, the porn in the back of the car in front of me, predicting lightning, getting screwed 7 times in a row by the airlines, and everything else, I am truly the vortex of weird and proud of it.

  Today is ash wednesday, meaning it is the beginning of lent, and I am upset. In the last week, I've heard tons of people debating what to give up for lent. I don't want this to call anyone out, but I can't tell this story without examples. "I could give up alcohol. . .on second thought, nevermind, that's not fun." "I'm giving up Pepsi by limiting myself to one can a day." "I'm giving up meat. . .but I hear you're allowed to cheat on Sunday." "I can't give up smoking since that's an addiction, maybe I can give up something like shopping." I call bullshit on all of you. Normally, I don't like to meddle in religious affairs, but this one is so blaring I can't leave it be.
  Originally, the forty day period is symbolic of the forty days spent by both Moses and Elijah in the wilderness. Later, Jesus is said to have retreated into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. Jesus fasted for forty days and forty nights. Afterwards he was hungry and the devil tempted him. Jesus overcame all of the devilish temptation of the lust of the flesh, lust of the eyes and the pride of life by citing holy Scripture to the devil. The Devil left him. Holy Angels ministered to Jesus, and he was able to begin his work as a minister spreading the word of god, the result of a living form of rebirth. As a result, individuals celebrate the 40 days and nights before Easter by giving up something dear to them. The intended effect of this deprivation is the sensation of success against temptation; once one can be immune to temptation, their faith may be renewed and they can re-emerge into the world. I may be an atheist, but not believing in god means nothing about not understanding doctrine.
  So here's my problem. So many people are willing to take this religious task so lightly as to skirt the responsibility of full deprivation. Comparatively, if you believe that Jesus literally walked in the desert for 40 days and 40 nights, giving up alcohol or meat shouldn't be such a strain. The truth is, faith isn't about specific doctrine today, it's about integrating doctrine in such a way to operate in a functional way with ones life. I understand this, and I also understand deprivation. In 2003, as a test of self discipline and possibly on a mission for some sort of existential lesson that was never fully realized, I gave up chocolate, soda and caffiene, cold turkey and from January 1 to January 1. All 3 of those things weren't trivial things I gave up because I had to, they were things integral to my life and completely inconvenient, both since I was physically addicted to caffeine and because they're part of our culture. Nevertheless, I succeeded for the year and have resumed my addictions. If I can do that for a year with no god over my head, why can't someone under the observation and absolute authority of god go all the way for a mere month and a half?
  More importantly, why is it that when it comes to personal sacrafice we can change doctrine and tradition as theyr'e convenient, yet when it comes to gay marriage people can stick so firmly to doctrine that they promote fear, hate and legislative intolerance?

EDIT: Once again always convict the atheist. This post is NOT anti lent. Not is it anti christian. It is anti intolerance. Ask people, I've encouraged them to give up something hard, and if they did, I'd help them however I could. I don't want to take your christianity away from you, and I support everyone's right to choose their lifestyle, christian or gay. Nevertheless, convenience is a poor excuse for choosing when to spread intolerance through doctrine.

Joe: The Baron has been spendin a lot of time kissin the fish today.
Jenn: Well, he should, it's Valentines day, he's just bein sweet.
Joe: No sweetie, Baron doesn't care that it's Valentines day.
Jenn: Oh yes he does, he totally knows it's Valentines day and he's showing love.
Joe: No, he knows it's Valentines day but he doesn't care what day it is, every day is an opportunity to hump and kiss the fish at his discretion.
Jenn: True 🙁

  I'd like to address a question that has been pit in my face a lot recently: Am I crazy? Well, that depends on your definition of crazy. All of a sudden all these concerns have been voiced that me referring to myself as crazy on my website will prevent me from ever getting a good job or winning a lawsuit. Allow me to clarify; I have nothing to hide, and if this website is one day the cause of my demise then I at least want my self description to be accurate. If crazy means singing imaginary songs to myself while standing naked in Wendy's, I'm not crazy. If crazy means I hear voices in my head telling me to collect every blue pen I see, I'm not crazy. If crazy means I constantly as you if there's a blue elephant on my shoulder, I'm not crazy. If crazy means I invest lots of time and passion into non-traditional interests for no objective gain, then I'm crazy. If crazy means I have an understanding of the world dramatically different from that of the people around me, then I'm crazy. If crazy means I battle severe depression and anxiety attacks, then yes I'm crazy, though I recognized my problems and took steps to alleviate stressors and acquire coping skills, and I personally think you'd be crazy not to do that. If crazy means I take small issues and turn them into personal affronts to my abilities and then commit myself to early failure, I am distinctly crazy. If crazy means I live a hectic life that I am somewhat stuck in due to my circumstances but recognize I just need to struggle through until I'm finished, then I'm crazy. Most importantly, if crazy means ridiculous coincidences and situations seem to happen at a much higher frequency to me than to other people, then I'm crazy. I call myself crazy, but not in a ::they're coming to take me away he he:: kind of way, in a ::everyone's a little crazy, I just have a double side helping of weird:: kind of way. And if telling my problems to the world turns me into a monster to an employer or litigator, then it probably wasn't a place I would have wanted to work at anyway and even more faith in the legal system will have been lost. This last year and a half sucked, everything I held as consistent got flipped on its head, the tolls on my health, money and relationships are irreconcilable, and I developed a fairly negative attitude about the events of my life in Tallahassee. I'll get over it one day, probably quickly after I leave this place. But when I describe myself as crazy, it's because using one word to describe my hectic state is much easier than telling the whole story every time.
  I was thinking about death and how sad we get when an old person dies, or when a stack of people die from a disease. Yea, it's sad when it happens to you, but really one person should die for each person born otherwise we'll overpopulate. I never really got sad with death, and I get uncomfortable with other people who are sad with death because I have trouble empathizing. Of course I don't wish it on anyone, but things like miscarriages, accidents, diseases and old age are simply mechanisms that keep us from outgrowing our food; it's almost irresponsible to be happy at the birth of a baby and sad at the death of a geriatric, you're asking for 1+1=2 instead of 1-1=0. Now, of course, there's the issue of involvement; people usually don't have a problem with other people's family members dying (maybe a passing "oh, that's sad" will suffice) but we have much emotion about our own. While this is a completely natural subjectivity, ask yourself if you can suspend it for a minute, either grieving for everyone who dies everywhere, or just not mourning.
  While on the topic of death, I read a news story about extremists (I know that makes it not applicable to regular life, but it serves as an example) in religion. Some 50 year old guy killed his roommate by shooting him so full of bullets his head was literally disconnected because the roommate was an atheist. The shooter repeatedly said he was an eagle scout and a Christian, and was not repentant about his act and acknowledged he would probably spend the rest of his life in jail. But the problem is his logic; he is fine going to jail because what is the cost of 25 years of inconvenience when doing the lord's work has earned him a lifetime in heaven. He reportedly actually saw the devil in the man's eyes right before he shot him, saying the roommate was Lucifer himself. In the trial, the family of the deceased was repeatedly accosted by the family of the accused, to the point the court had to provide security detail for their protection. This is a huge fear I have of Christianity; I have no problem coexisting, but at any point someone could in their head reach the conclusion that the consequences for me and them on earth are meaningless in the scope of heaven and hell. I don't believe anyone I know would commit such an act, I used to know people who told me I was a bad person for reading Harry Potter but I don't talk to them much anymore, but it still scares me. I just want to be on Earth doing my thing, since I believe there's nothing after life I have to make the most of my time, but the threat of people literally intervening in my life because their belief in an absolute truth with absolute consequences alleviates them the burden of restraint constantly frightens me. Especially now that the connection between church and state has never been stronger. I know I tend to be an extremist myself, but I kind of have to be, since atheism is an extreme viewpoint. I think about this when I talk about becoming a boat captain or interplanetary colonist; isolation or cohabitation with like minded and belief-holding people would make me feel so much safer. America scares me because what was once ideas and concepts are now historical artifacts in a vault somewhere deep in the castle on the hill we have become. Escape from religious persecution has become defense of state sponsored religion, justified by historical context. Having a dream of all men created equal has become all men created equal, so long as they meet an approved ethnicity (Black, White or Asian) and conform to affluent standards. I keep getting on these soapboxes, maybe I should get into politics. I think the government's role in the people's lives is not to protect them from every little thing that can hurt them, but instead to provide services that work to best maintain order and to adjudicate conflicts of freedom between one party or another. We should have no place in foreign affairs unless the people, not the government, ask for our aid. And national security should really consider the security of the nation, not act as a roaming crosshair justified under a pleasant sounding title and opportunistic pouncing on public fear.
  So, here I am, trying to get my life together, I plan on doing the best I can to keep my head up in these last few months, I've so far gotten past having my luggage lost for a few days and returned soaked and having my starter die and need a 300 buck replacement, and though I had small episodes I'm making it through. I'm working on sleeping better, I've been eating better, exercising more and Jenn and I are doing better. So, off I go.