Just as quick as a wink she said it, "Julie Matlock would be over the console in a second." I knew right then that my whole theory could not be true. My theory is that sex is everything and that the whole world is organized by sex. Consoles are incontrovertible evidence that I am wrong. If sex were people's major consideration, they would demand bench seats. You could not sell a car with a console. But there there are, lined up shiny and new at every dealership. They mock me as I pass, solid proof that people do not consider sex when buying a car. And somehow I see it as me being wrong. Totally wrong. Either it's true that everything is about sex, or it's not true. I can get so binary sometimes. Consoles prove that it's not true. There are considerations in the world besides sex, like where is my 7-11 big gulp going to go in this car? And here we have it, a strong polarity. I set it up as ! strongly as I can. EVERYTHING is about sex or it's NOT. I build each side of the opposite up. Make each side as strong as possible. I have a paradox. Yum. I know what will happen next, my brain will integrate the paradox. The bigger the paradox the greater the pleasure when my brain does its integration bit. And I realize that I have invented this big polarity on purpose for the pleasure of integrating it. Of course we all always know that some things are about sex and a lot of things aren't. Everyone really knows this. Even me, but it's like I'm pretending not to already know so I can have a big intellectual crisis and manufacture new realizations. As if there are not enough real problems in this world to capture my attention, I become totally focused on problems I invent in my mind, solely for my own entertainment I think. I am more attracted to problems I invent than real problems. For one thing, they are really easy to solve. All I need is my brain. For another thing, I am doing it for the pleasure. Not to solve a problem but for the pleasure of having new realizations. Is it some kind of sickness, getting all involved in things that exist only inside my brain? Like a self addiction? I mean sometimes I pretend to sleep so I can be with my brain alone. And I see it already, a new problem I just invented, me being addicted to my brain. An imaginary problem for me to solve/integrate. How did I get so overly self involved? Or am I just finding myself? In any case, I know I'm much too old to be going over a console. And cup holder characteristics are more important to me, because I'm a lot more likely to be drinking diet 7-up than having sex in a car.