Monday, October 18, 2010

I'm Sorry Lissy, I'm Afraid I Can't Do That

The most glorious thing about living in our age is technology.  Where our ancestors worked themselves into the grave by the age of thirty-five harvesting corn, we can go to the Coles website and order corn.  If we can't be bothered constructing a whole meal around it, we can order corn fritters instead. Hell, if we can't even be bothered chewing, we can order creamed corn.

The point is that computers can come to the rescue for just about any "Meh, let someone else do it" scenario.  And they're very good at it.  Even obsequious in their desire to please.

At least, they always have been.

Today, my computer gave up on me.  In a most unwelcome realisation that nobody can make it do stuff it doesn't want to do, it decided it was all too hard, and it would rather sit back and make grindy whirry noises rather than be my slave any longer.

So it presented me with this message:

For the record, there were NOT too many spelling or grammatical errors.  It was just sick of proof-reading for me.

And the obstinance didn't end there.  When I accepted I would have to work things out for myself, it thwarted my every attempt.

Failed?  You didn't even try.

I hate you, computer.

1 comment:

  1. I swear computers know when you're at final draft stage and then do this just to piss you off.

    It's the first step in the move towards Skynet, and them obliterating the human race. First they toy with us, then they get sick of it and just go "hey, what's this reset button do?"


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