: crash goes the computer :

It was an afternoon just like any other, I was at my compuCRASH. Surprise! Down went the hard drive. My trusty old computer is no longer so trusty — well, it never has been. This is the fourth damn hard drive that’s crashed.

But since it was the fourth one to go down in flames, I was prepared. There’s no need to panic, no reason to go ballistic. All my data and music are safely backed up. I do have the urge, however, to hit something. Hard. Then hit it again. Harder.

These are the future? These are the wonders of the modern world? I don’t think so. They’re temperamental, touchy little malcontents. Happy and efficient one minute, a pipe bomb the next. Well, I’ve had it, they can crash and burn somewhere else for all I care. Computers won’t get any more data from me. Not one pixel.

Touch the wrong combination of buttons and the computer starts talking, in a set-your-teeth-on-edge, robotic monotone. Or the screen disappears. Or the keyboard locks. Computers aren’t fun, they’re not helpful. They’re hemorrhoids. That’s right, pains in the ass. I don’t need another one — I already have a touchscreen. I’m driven daily to the very brink of sanity.

I’m going back to pencils. If one breaks, I have a sharpener. Besides, I can buy pencils by the dozen, losing one or breaking it doesn’t mean disaster. I like pencils, I like listening to them scratch out words. I like the erasers, too, the dust they leave on the paper. You just brush it away with your hand. Pencils are a very interactive tool. I love them. I do.

The damn computer is scheduled for repair on Monday. Publikworks should be back in operation 2 November. Or thereabouts. Give or take a year. Maybe.

Copyright © Publikworks 2011.

10 thoughts on “: crash goes the computer :

  1. First off, I’m sorry for your loss.

    Second, I could get high off the smell of a No. 2 pencil. I try to stay away from them for that very reason. One whiff and (shazam!) just like that I’m beamed back to 1984. Then I feel drunk on nostalgia and worthless for the rest of the day.

    Finally, I hope you’re back and running soon. I love reading your posts.


    1. Hey, Angie, that’s awfully nice of you. Thanks. If I’m lucky, my loss is only temporary. I’m holding on to my Ticonderoga #2 Soft for luck. See you soon.


  2. There is something special – awesome, even – about a pencil to paper, and the feeling of erasing a misplaced pronoun or out of place coma. Long live the No. 2 pencil!


    1. Hi, Cecilia. You should be fine as long as you back up your files. I’m hoping this process goes smoothy, I don’t like using a touchscreen. See you next week.


Comments are closed.