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Autumn 1997
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During the approximately four minutes per month that my principal PC functions properly, I try to devote myself to learning something new. I say approximately four minutes, because some months it drifts down dangerously close to 0.00000067 minutes, according to the calculations of my trusty "Intel Inside" Pentium/Food processor.
I cite for example the recent experiences that I and my resident Windows 95 Guru-Shaman have had with a certain disk drive, manufactured by a company whose name I won't reveal publicly, but it rhymes with Do-Bit-Shoe. Being on the "cutting edge" of the technology curve, meaning that I have a credit card with some actual credit left on it, I find myself always at the mercy of my MS-Shaman, who recommends buying the latest, greatest hardware.
"You can't get by with just SCSI," he'll say, "you really want WIDE-SCSI." Next month, he'll undoubtedly tell me that I need "Slim Fast" SCSI.
Over the past two years, I'd estimate that we have put slightly more money into this one PC than NASA spent making corrective glasses for the Hubble Space Telescope, including installation and delivery (batteries not included). The particular disk drive, which we have replaced three times in as many months, is no longer even made or supported by the unnamed manufacturer of Japanese descent. We really should have taken a hint when we managed, after four short hours, to actually get through to someone in tech support who could stop laughing long enough to tell us that we needed to return the drive(s) for replacement.
Another clue should have been the Post-It note on the replacement drive, which, when translated into English, read: "Drive to not work in net loser machine, ha-ha." It was the "ha-ha" part that really rankled us. Plus, we're pretty sure that we received our own broken drive back on a couple of occasions. We now put a secret identifying mark, int he form of a wad of chewed bubble gum, in a secret location on the drive so we'll know if we get the same one back. Curiously, the most recent replacement drive had a piece of sushi wedged in between the connectors. [Tech Tip of the Month: Do not eat sushi that has been included with a replacment disk drive.]
I'm also convinced that these machines are getting dangerously close to artificial reality, although not by intentional design. For my evidence, I cite the possibility of PCs containing Stress Analyzers and/or Karmic Sensors. Just last week, I had completed the production of our newsletter and was ready to transmit it to the printer when my Shaman arrived to "just plug in the scanner card". A major mistake, saying that within earshot of my PC, because it immediately committed digital hari-kari. Really. Yes, it does have a microphone.
Just think of the application of PCs as replacements for lie detectors in police detective work:
Detective: "So, Mr Simpson, you say you never hit your ex-wife?"
Simpson: "Absolutely not. Never, Uh uh. No way."
PC: "General Protection Fault. System Halted."
The only redeeming aspect to this disk drive replacement saga is that since disk technology seems to double capacity and drop in price every seven minutes, they eventually replaced it with a 144 terabyte model. In another window, while I'm writing this, I'm downloading the entire Library of Congress, over a 28.8 modem. I should be done in approximately 38,872,961.01673245 years, according to my Pentium.
Jon Sisk
Last Updated: 23 July 1999