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From the Carnival Collection, part of the Louisiana Research Collection (LaRC) at Tulane University. (Some potential restrictions on reuse) -- digitallibrary.tulane.edu/islandora/object/tulane:p15140c...
From the Carnival Collection, part of the Louisiana Research Collection (LaRC) at Tulane University. (Some potential restrictions on reuse) -- digitallibrary.tulane.edu/islandora/object/tulane:p15140c...
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My antique computer is all clogged up. Packed tightly with too many processes running all at once, treading on each others toes. It tries to perform one task - I love how it’s described as ‘performing’ a task. Imagine telling your boss at your quarterly review, “I have been performing some excellent tasks in the last few months, I have emptied the bins, printed out some letters and, I think my greatest ‘performance’ was when I made tea whilst also enquiring about everyone’s weekends.” - I digress. So it tries to perform one task and then starts to panic about another task that you have also asked it to do. It then gets so muddled that it opens three programmes that are no use whatsoever but which cause the screen to freeze and prompts you to summon the task manager.
Task ‘manager’ is actually pretty poor in managerial terms, it tells you, “You have asked me to do all this but just look at all of the other things I have to deal with at the moment, all of the things I am worrying about, it’s too much I tell you! TOO MUCH”
Your only option then is to ‘end now’ all of the seized up, partially opened stuff – This is the computer equivalent of sitting a person having a panic attack down with a brown paper bag to breathe into. You restart in the hope that the machine will have forgotten what it was stressing about before and just get on with things, rather like giving a neurotic woman’s shoulders (your mother) a good shake and saying “there, there” hoping that she will then pull herself together enough to go and make you a cup of tea.
5 minutes later you have your cup of tea but it has 9 spoons in it along with a soggy, crumb ridden washing up cloth.
I know exactly what the computer is going through. Every day when I ‘start up’ it takes me longer and longer to be ready to perform the simplest task. My grey matter drive is saturated with pointless processes and anxious applications that load up every time my thoughts wander into the wrong folder. Give me 5 minutes alone with my head drive and I am making lists of the lists of the lists of unpleasant things that have to be addressed, decisions that have to be made, money that has to be spent, prickly sweat spreading through me from my barmy-pits.
Did the doctors of old have it right all along? Is electroshock therapy the only answer to reset my befuddled, addled mind? Can 250 volts take me back to my default laughter-rich settings and wipe the neuroses?!
You can take the computer to have a good ‘clear aaaaat’ (as a white-van-man might say on his way to the toilet with a copy of The Sun); an electronic enema. For 5 whole minutes afterwards everything runs at normal speed and feels 2Ibs lighter. But soon, like mildew in a basement bathroom, the depression returns with a musty vengeance upon its weary drives and once again it cannot deal with day to day tasks, and all of your towels stink. (My god there is nothing worse than rubbing a bath fresh, soapy shiny body with a towel reeking of tramp’s mattress and spending the next day doing double sniffs about yourself, wondering why there is a tramp covertly following you and realising there is no tramp, it is you.)
Where can I get a brain enema, where can I download my woe and unproductive thoughts onto an external, removable ‘mardy’ drive?
I could really benefit from an enormous dumping of destructive thoughts and anxieties, straight out of my brain and onto some detachable memory bank to de-clog my mind. I can then shove it in a moth-bally drawer and forget about what’s on it until 5 years later when I discover it while looking for a favourite old pair of knickers and find amusing the ridiculously minor 250GB of things that caused me to seize up with anxiety, compared with the 90 Terabytes of current stuff..….To this day I still worry about how the Ghostbusters were managing to store all of New York’s ghosts in such a small containment facility. That was 26 years ago now and that thought still loads up, without fail, running in the background, every time I start up.
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