All right, so the space occupied this week by this frankly substandard and entirely off topic rant should in fact be occupied by a solid seven hundred (well okay, 612) words of fresh vitriol hot off the flimsy chiclet keyboard of the supposedly technologically superior Macintosh computer that I have been forced to struggle against with for the past two weeks while the genuises at Dell attempt and repeatedly fail to make a simple delivery of a replacement PC with such a mindblowing level of incompetence that the aether spontaneously generates the faint strains of ‘Yakety Sax’ each time I’m lucky enough to explain the whole debacle yet again from the beginning to the latest newly assigned but not briefed customer service rep.
But, as you may have cleverly discerned from these even fresher 505 tardily delivered words of technophobic mouthfrothing, something-as they say-went awry. In point of fact Google Docs and this aesthetically pleasing but less than entirely intuitively designed POS I am even now still forced to type on, conspired to “cut” but then not so much “paste” as “consign to oblivion” all my pretty, pretty prose.
Now, Google Docs, like most of Google’s products seems to inhabit a curious space smack in the middle between “awesome tool I never knew I needed but is now indispensable” and “app that Satan shat out to screw me over by failing right at the critical moment” so you know, I get it. No one trusts Google anymore, ‘Don’t Be Evil’ has become a punchline, so yeah-it’s perfectly reasonable to expect it to make my life and by extension that of your long-suffering editor-miserable.
But, Mac… for all that I, in my primitive apelike end user intellect shall never be entirely comfortable navigating your too-polished intricacies… I had at least thought we had an mutual understanding; you don’t fuck me over too blatantly and I don’t accidentally drop you and all your futuristic shiny surfaces and pleasingly innoffensive round corners onto the concrete floor when I move you off the desk to make room for the much delayed replacement PC.
That is, if I get a replacement PC at all, because it is slowly becoming clear this may never happen. It seems you have brainwashed everyone in the office into loooooving you so much that they keep casually stopping by my desk to ask, with brightly glittering cultist eyes “so, how do you like the Mac?” and daydreamily commenting how awesome it would be to replace all the machines in the office with more of your pod-children. At which point I am liable to grab the nearest femur and go totally 2001 on their asses while screaming ‘Listen! They’re here already! You’re next!”Right, breathing… I’m fine…
I’m sorry, what was that? Wait, did I hear you say something about Linux? Really now? Well that sounds just fascinating. I am intrigued and quite suddenly made aroused and kittenish by your smug technological superiority… please, ignore the claw hammer in my trembling fist and step just. a. few. inches. closer.
Yipe! Volume 2, Issue 8, August 2010