… and their meaning have left me stranded in front of the computer screen furiously reading the ebook of Dick Hebdige’s Subculture: The Meaning of Style. I was also stranded earlier (in the slush and fog) on Albert St. (a major street in the city) in the turning lane (the left turning lane I must add) when my car died for no apparant reason other than it could. Fortunately, my car is light, a standard, and easy to move, so I was able to roll it out of the way quickly enough. I was also only a block from work. Perhaps my car is a part of the plastic sub-counterculture and began it’s silent rebellion in the only way it knew how: self-destruction.