Computers
Several editors ago in a far-off galaxy — or maybe it only seemed that way — I debated former Editor John Loftus about the value of computers. He was young and had a vision of how computers would be a boon to the human race. I was not as young (even then) and felt computers would screw up the comfortable world in which I lived.
During the discussion, I made the assertion I would never so much as allow a computer in my home. I was afraid of their insidious influence. All computers were HAL from "2001: A Space Odyssey"– a machine bent on destroying the very humans who were supposed to control him. HAL wasn’t allowed in my home. I forget Loftus’ exact response, but I believe it had something to do with my head being buried up an unmentionable part of my anatomy.
Many years have passed since that debate. Loftus would probably be happy to know I gave in and brought a computer — which I use to write these columns — into my home. I work eight hours a day at a computer in another job, even mastering the intricacies of their system (SAP). In short, I surrendered.
It would seem on the surface Loftus was right and I was wrong. People use computers to correspond, to learn about our world, to conduct their daily business and for entertainment. How in the name of Bill Gates did we ever live without them?
Well this is the wrong day to ask me that.
These wonderfully expensive systems are down as much as they are up. We are at the mercy of computer geeks working in unspecified locations known humorously as "help desks."When our home computer mysteriously fails, we call the service center where these "helpers"may be at a phone in Senegal, speaking with an accent that would drive Joey Vento to drink. When all else fails (and it usually does), we are told to reboot or unplug or whatever is doublespeak for "I don’t know what’s wrong either."
Computers have polluted our language with meaningless terms like "hard drive"and "software."Am I really supposed to grasp what it means to try the F drive? Is my RAM sufficient? What is a gigabyte and why do I care?
We have given the world over to computer geeks. We don’t speak like them nor think like them, but they are running the show. We are supposed to be happy with systems where, in order to find the person responsible for another part of the project, you have to wade through 10 screens. (Remember the old days when you just looked it up in a directory?) The icons are smaller than the figures on the bottom of the eye chart at your doctor’s office. Computers have simplified the storage of information, but at the expense of carpel tunnel syndrome, a bad back and eye strain.
Maybe this rant is the product of a bad day. Just because my server went down then went back up, and then the system went down, is no reason to get upset. Maybe it’s because I have all my passwords and PINs confused so I can’t access my pension account, see my biweekly pay stub, or order my bath soap through the Internet. I have PINs coming out of the same spot I’ve buried my head all these years.
The victory of the Internet has made Al Gore very happy. Me — I’ve found my favorite newspapers are dying because no one under 60 reads anymore. The information highway is a great thing, but how come the most-visited Web sites are porn? I realize e-mail is a wonderful way to keep in touch, but do I really need to get 33 messages telling me to pass on a prayer or else God will smite my first born?
Have you ever really looked at most of the e-mails you receive — there are jokes that wouldn’t have made Henny Youngman’s monologue and urban myths that are passed around so quickly people actually believe them. You want to compare the intelligence of the average e-mail with the letters people wrote before there were telephones?
Thanks to computers we have hackers and viruses and worms you can’t use as bait. We build firewalls and security systems and still get ads that ask if we want a bigger penis (my wife says "no"; I say "yes").
I think maybe Bill Gates is the anti-Christ.
