Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Ham Shanks Secret Diary - Part 108
Ham Shanks Secret Diary – w/e 3rd December 2006
‘Tick tock’, ‘tick tock’ I glanced upwards as the second hand gradually circumnavigated the clock face ‘tick tock’, ‘tick tock’ The pressure was mounting as each minute passed without news. I checked my wrist watch and unsurprisingly it proffered the same time as the clock. Annoyed at the lack of a differing time zone between the two I slumped back in my seat …. ‘Tick tock’, ‘tick tock’ … ‘Clunk!’ The sudden striking noise of another minute was the final straw; I jumped impatiently up from my seat and marched towards the glass door.
It was one of those frosted glass doors, which to my mind defeats the point of glass. If it’s designed to prevent anyone catching a glimpse of what’s behind it then why the feck don’t you just make it out of something solid like wood? Hmmm?
This didn’t deter me from trying to peer through the opaque gloom and I screwed up my eyes in an effort to squint through the glass and see what was happening within. Foiled by the frosting I resorted to the tried and tested method of peeking through the keyhole. Imagine my embarrassment therefore when the door promptly opened and I was left staring at the crotch of a gentleman in a white lab coat ‘Mr Shanks?’, ‘eeer yes yes that’s me’ I mumbled, straightening myself up and attempting to appear slightly less like a voyeur.
‘I’m afraid it’s bad news’ my heart sank to my boots and I stumbled backwards, landing heavily on the cheap plastic chair that had been my home for the past three hours ‘give it to me straight’ I whispered in a quavering voice ‘I can take it’ I continued, despite all outward appearances to the contrary.
He took a deep breath …
‘Well your hard drive is fragmented to buggery, I’ve seen jigsaws with less pieces’, ‘your mother board is completely fused, it looks like an Albanian plumbers been at it’ I turned scarlet as memories of some of my DIY servicing efforts sprang to mind, with the benefit of hindsight a fork isn’t the most delicate of tools. My reverie was interrupted as he continued ‘the RAM is practically incontinent, with all the memory leakage I’d say your lucky if you have enough left to boot up a toaster’, ‘the fan appears to be clogged with what I can only hope is marmite’, ‘ah yes well I can exp-‘, ‘and your floppy disk has a colony of cockroaches nesting in it’ He thrust the report in my limp hand ‘otherwise ok?’ I mumbled
I watched as a gang of men in boiler suits and breathing apparatus trooped past me brandishing fumigation equipment. Half an hour later my laptop was returned in a sealed plastic bag. The staff member, now resplendent in a paper coverall made it plain to me that future custom was not welcome. He picked up the intercom and angrily punched a few keys. Moments later I was escorted off the premises by a pair of burly security men who reinforced this ‘stay away’ message with the help of Doctor Marten and Mr Dickies.
But every cloud has a silver lining and the demise of my pest infested laptop meant I was now free to buy a new gadget! With a light heart and a limp in my step I hobbled off to the retail park.
I think someone once said that the average mobile phone has more computing power than was used to send the first man to the moon. An astonishing statement I think you’ll agree. Until you query whether they actually got the man back again or how many pieces he was in when he arrived. Lets be honest a few hundred pounds of high explosive and your half way there!
But despite my trite comments it’s safe to say that computing has moved on immeasurably in the last few years. This was immediately apparent as I strolled round the store. Big chucky monitors that would heat your whole house have now been replaced by wafer thin ‘plasma screens’. Agricultural base units that looked like they had been hewn from granite or welded together by a chimp have been replaced with sleek models constructed from composite plastics and high tech polymers. The whole display was like a set from Startrek.
‘Oh coooool it’s the Captains chair’ I gasped as I sat down in a large leather ‘executive’ chair. My elbows resting on the plump armrests. I pointed theatrically to a display of shimmering monitors ‘Make it so’, ‘Engage the warp drive Mr Worf’, ‘Modify the defl-‘, ‘can I help you sir?’, ‘Holy FU-‘ A smartly dressed young man was smirking at me ‘..Uuum yes’ I stammered as I felt a wave of crimson wash up from my boots ‘..eeer .. uum I need a new computer’ I mumbled, my face suggesting I was now an avid Liverpool fan
‘Certainly sir, what do you need the computer for?’ he continued as I sloped quietly out of the chair ‘uuum just sending e-mails ‘n’ surfing the net ‘n’ stuff like that’, ‘Do you game at all?’, ‘am I game?’ I retorted indignantly, raising my eyebrows and taking a careful step back ‘no sir, do you play computer games sir?’ another ripple of scarlet surged to the tips of my ears. I must have looked like a warning beacon ‘Eeer yes, I mean no, eer maybe, why? should I?…’ He just smiled.
The rest of the dialogue is rather hazy, I was so mortified at making an even bigger tit of myself I just acquiesced to every request ‘yes yes I definitely need a wireless router’, ‘scanner? Yeeees of course I want a scanner’…..
So I now have enough computing power to send the entire population to any planet of their choosing, I can play a thousand different games online, I can watch, copy and create DVD’s, I can podcast, webcast and any other kind of cast you care to name. My computer has enough storage space to hold every album ever sung, every book ever written and every word ever spoken since the dawn of time.
But that’s not all, oh no. It can see the future, it can heal the sick, it can feed the hungry, it can right wrongs, it can wipe you’re a*se and it can even tell you the meaning of fecking life! (but you wouldn’t understand anyway) in fact it’s practically a sentient life form.
So you can understand my despair when I unpacked my new super computer and it didn’t have a fecking plug! It’s Christmas 1979 all over again. The only 11yr old boy with a table top version of ‘Galaxians’ in the North East of Scotland and it didn’t have batteries or a plug. Thanks Santa you jolly fat sick bastard!
Doei
‘Tick tock’, ‘tick tock’ I glanced upwards as the second hand gradually circumnavigated the clock face ‘tick tock’, ‘tick tock’ The pressure was mounting as each minute passed without news. I checked my wrist watch and unsurprisingly it proffered the same time as the clock. Annoyed at the lack of a differing time zone between the two I slumped back in my seat …. ‘Tick tock’, ‘tick tock’ … ‘Clunk!’ The sudden striking noise of another minute was the final straw; I jumped impatiently up from my seat and marched towards the glass door.
It was one of those frosted glass doors, which to my mind defeats the point of glass. If it’s designed to prevent anyone catching a glimpse of what’s behind it then why the feck don’t you just make it out of something solid like wood? Hmmm?
This didn’t deter me from trying to peer through the opaque gloom and I screwed up my eyes in an effort to squint through the glass and see what was happening within. Foiled by the frosting I resorted to the tried and tested method of peeking through the keyhole. Imagine my embarrassment therefore when the door promptly opened and I was left staring at the crotch of a gentleman in a white lab coat ‘Mr Shanks?’, ‘eeer yes yes that’s me’ I mumbled, straightening myself up and attempting to appear slightly less like a voyeur.
‘I’m afraid it’s bad news’ my heart sank to my boots and I stumbled backwards, landing heavily on the cheap plastic chair that had been my home for the past three hours ‘give it to me straight’ I whispered in a quavering voice ‘I can take it’ I continued, despite all outward appearances to the contrary.
He took a deep breath …
‘Well your hard drive is fragmented to buggery, I’ve seen jigsaws with less pieces’, ‘your mother board is completely fused, it looks like an Albanian plumbers been at it’ I turned scarlet as memories of some of my DIY servicing efforts sprang to mind, with the benefit of hindsight a fork isn’t the most delicate of tools. My reverie was interrupted as he continued ‘the RAM is practically incontinent, with all the memory leakage I’d say your lucky if you have enough left to boot up a toaster’, ‘the fan appears to be clogged with what I can only hope is marmite’, ‘ah yes well I can exp-‘, ‘and your floppy disk has a colony of cockroaches nesting in it’ He thrust the report in my limp hand ‘otherwise ok?’ I mumbled
I watched as a gang of men in boiler suits and breathing apparatus trooped past me brandishing fumigation equipment. Half an hour later my laptop was returned in a sealed plastic bag. The staff member, now resplendent in a paper coverall made it plain to me that future custom was not welcome. He picked up the intercom and angrily punched a few keys. Moments later I was escorted off the premises by a pair of burly security men who reinforced this ‘stay away’ message with the help of Doctor Marten and Mr Dickies.
But every cloud has a silver lining and the demise of my pest infested laptop meant I was now free to buy a new gadget! With a light heart and a limp in my step I hobbled off to the retail park.
I think someone once said that the average mobile phone has more computing power than was used to send the first man to the moon. An astonishing statement I think you’ll agree. Until you query whether they actually got the man back again or how many pieces he was in when he arrived. Lets be honest a few hundred pounds of high explosive and your half way there!
But despite my trite comments it’s safe to say that computing has moved on immeasurably in the last few years. This was immediately apparent as I strolled round the store. Big chucky monitors that would heat your whole house have now been replaced by wafer thin ‘plasma screens’. Agricultural base units that looked like they had been hewn from granite or welded together by a chimp have been replaced with sleek models constructed from composite plastics and high tech polymers. The whole display was like a set from Startrek.
‘Oh coooool it’s the Captains chair’ I gasped as I sat down in a large leather ‘executive’ chair. My elbows resting on the plump armrests. I pointed theatrically to a display of shimmering monitors ‘Make it so’, ‘Engage the warp drive Mr Worf’, ‘Modify the defl-‘, ‘can I help you sir?’, ‘Holy FU-‘ A smartly dressed young man was smirking at me ‘..Uuum yes’ I stammered as I felt a wave of crimson wash up from my boots ‘..eeer .. uum I need a new computer’ I mumbled, my face suggesting I was now an avid Liverpool fan
‘Certainly sir, what do you need the computer for?’ he continued as I sloped quietly out of the chair ‘uuum just sending e-mails ‘n’ surfing the net ‘n’ stuff like that’, ‘Do you game at all?’, ‘am I game?’ I retorted indignantly, raising my eyebrows and taking a careful step back ‘no sir, do you play computer games sir?’ another ripple of scarlet surged to the tips of my ears. I must have looked like a warning beacon ‘Eeer yes, I mean no, eer maybe, why? should I?…’ He just smiled.
The rest of the dialogue is rather hazy, I was so mortified at making an even bigger tit of myself I just acquiesced to every request ‘yes yes I definitely need a wireless router’, ‘scanner? Yeeees of course I want a scanner’…..
So I now have enough computing power to send the entire population to any planet of their choosing, I can play a thousand different games online, I can watch, copy and create DVD’s, I can podcast, webcast and any other kind of cast you care to name. My computer has enough storage space to hold every album ever sung, every book ever written and every word ever spoken since the dawn of time.
But that’s not all, oh no. It can see the future, it can heal the sick, it can feed the hungry, it can right wrongs, it can wipe you’re a*se and it can even tell you the meaning of fecking life! (but you wouldn’t understand anyway) in fact it’s practically a sentient life form.
So you can understand my despair when I unpacked my new super computer and it didn’t have a fecking plug! It’s Christmas 1979 all over again. The only 11yr old boy with a table top version of ‘Galaxians’ in the North East of Scotland and it didn’t have batteries or a plug. Thanks Santa you jolly fat sick bastard!
Doei
