I like for things to have epithets, and I mean that in the sense of descriptive titles that replace or elaborate upon names. For instance, Jacob used to call Bella the Stinky Princess; I approved of that strenuously. My own personal cat is most often denoted by the use of her partial name, Nut, and any of several status indicators: the Bed Nut, the Lap Nut, the Squeaky Nut, the Unhappy Nut. Katie and I went through a period of referring to each other almost exclusively as Darling Baby Sister and Darling Big Sister. In my head I tend to call Jacob the Jacob of Jacobs.
I said things, and not people, but in fact it is both. Household items in my presence have epithets as well. For instance, my computer was named Beige Floyd almost 6 years ago and has remained Beige Floyd to the present day. But Beige Floyd is on its way out. After two weeks of not restarting because restarting reminded it of its bad drive sectors, it passed out last night and woke up in Windows mode, remembering nothing of what it used to know in Linux.
This is not a post about the lamentable fate of my computer. This is a post about the delightful fact that I have acquired, just in time, a replacement computing entity. It's a cheap, basic Dell laptop, sturdy (one hopes) and utilitarian with no space-age stylings. What it says to the viewer is "I am a black rectangular solid", rather than "I am exciting new technology". So far, it is Ye Great Black Beast, but other descriptors are possible. The color lends itself to something along the lines of the Gothtop, but I'm also enamored of a far-fetched idea involving painting it a particular shade of mushroomy-ecru. It would then be the Laptaupe.
Jacob the Wise remarked last night that he and I have a markedly similar approach to computing. If something -- anything -- shows up on the screen unasked, we both scowl and immediately look for how to remove it. A helpful piece of Dell internet-search-assistance software was sidetracking me last night as I tried to go to a site that wasn't functioning, and I was threatening it under my breath with dire consequences if it tried to direct me to the site one more bloody time. It doesn't matter if it's trying to help. It doesn't even matter if it does help. You let the computers do the thinking and the next thing you know it's Terminator all over again. I won't tolerate that kind of behavior from my machines. Around here the meat engines do the thinking, thank you very much.Posted by dianna at September 26, 2005 11:30 AM