Okay, computer, I'm ready to type. Let's start with my name. D - I -
Where did this kid come from? I have computer chips designed by geniuses an she's spelling her name with one finger. What's the human mind coming to? I bet I could access a million bytes of information in the time it takes to spell her name. If all humans are this way I'm glad I'm a computer.
I'm done typing. Now, where is that darn spell check? I know there's one somewhere. I'll try looking under "help."
I swear she's going to wear out my help. I think I've told her where the spell check is just about every time she plops herself down in front of me. Try looking under "edit," Swifty. It's always there, it's not like it moves as soon as you shut me off. It's a good thing for her I can help her with some of her problems.
Oh, there it is! I think it moves every time I try to find it. Okay, now I want to print a copy. Now I need to print. Print... Hmmm...
Here, I'll be merciful. Here's your stupid paper. A half of a page? What kind of moron takes an hour to write a half of a page?! You, I guess. You know, they invented computers simple enough for people like you, but they've since been mummified in the back of some storage room in the basement of an abandoned warehouse in Mississippi.
Well, nighty, night computer. Thanks for your help. See you tomorrow.
I think I'm getting debugged tomorrow.
written circa 1995 by Diana Lee
2 comments:
This is a fun idea. I would like to see it expanded upon. It would be interesting to have them all tie together and build up some sort of story where the girl goes out to find the main computer or something like that. What a great concept though. Thanks for letting me read this.
I wrote Mechanically Declined when I was a Senior in high school, working on the Literary Magazine. We compiled poetry, stories and artwork into a beautiful magazine on sale for the student body to purchase. It was an incredible experience. Especially since we also got to contribute our own writing.
I remember getting the idea for this work. What would computers think of us if they judged us for how we used them? A rather scary thought if you take it any deeper than this piece does. And this piece was written before the advent of the Internet! (Boy, did I just date myself!!) :D
Would we be embarrassed if our computers spouted off their opinions of what we click on or write in emails to our friends and/or co-workers? Would we click more judiciously if we knew the entity by which we viewed our interests was recording and judging us?
I still wonder this about my trusty GPS sometimes. I keep waiting for it shout at me, "You're going the wrong way, Stupid! I've told you 20 times to turn around!"
I think we all judge ourselves in our own minds. This is just an outward manifestation of the critical way in which I saw my computer skills back then. I learned a lot the year I wrote this being on the production end of the Literary Magazine.
All in all, this is a golden oldie, published here just as I wrote it and saved it here in my notebook of old writing. Keep an eye out for more forgotten jewels!
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