Block Chop 94: PCs, Apples and Shane MacGowan...

It’s probably about time I got a new computer.  The one in front of me right now, staring back at me with its freezing stuttering screen, is basically only held together with snot and moulted hair.  I refuse to spend another few hours dismantling every single part just to clean the dust out of the hobbled old fan.  There is literally not a single component that can remain in situ when completing what should be such a simple and basic task.  Directly to you, the designers of the Compaq 6735s: “Why have you stuck the fucking fan in such a stupid fucking place?”  It’s exactly like you are deliberately trying to sabotage the system.  Why not do the basic decent thing and put in a teeny tiny little access port?  You dicks.

It’s also unnecessarily heavy.  I need a laptop that is half the size and a quarter of the weight, and I need it now.  If I carry this god awful craptop around with me I quickly develop a forward stoop to counterbalance the massive weight dragging me into the ground and shortening my leg bones.  If I took it out and about more often I would soon crunch over into a full-blown hunchback.  I may even end up being able to touch my toes without bending my knees for the first time ever.  Being able to touch one’s toes isn’t exactly a grand prize, so I think I’ll just pray for a new laptop.  And when prayer doesn’t work I’ll go out and buy one.

And I won’t be buying an Apple.  The reasons for this are many and complex and not something I want to think too much about at this late hour, but suffice to say Apples are shit; even shitter than my stupid broken heavy PC.  For fuck’s sake, one mouse button! And don’t give me that shit about ‘you only need one mouse button on an Apple’.  You only need one pair of shoes, but it’s useful to have more.  Basically PCs are robust, functional, endlessly modifiable, and useful, whereas Apples are pointless overpriced toys for show-offy bell ends... perhaps I ought to get one then.

Like Shane MacGowan in his brilliant rambling autobiography A Drink With...  I seem to have made one point, and then almost immediately contradicted myself, apparently simultaneously believing two almost opposites, or simply just forgetting what I have said minutes earlier.  So what have I learned?  It seems I have learnt that PCs are brilliant... except mine, which is a piece of shit.  And Apples are shit, except I’ve never really used one.  Whenever I do get the chance to have a go I find them alien and confusing and not at all pleasant.  The idea that Apples are utterly brilliant does strike me as very obviously being complete bullshit, but I don’t really have the evidence to back this up.  I tell you what, why don’t you lend me yours.  That way I can decide once and for all whether or not they are any good.  If I don’t like it you can have it back, perhaps with a hole kicked in the screen, and if I do like it I’m fucking keeping it.  It’s mine.

Block Chop 84: public blogging ....

I’m sitting in Solomon Grundy’s on Wilmslow Road in Withington for the first time since it’s ‘refit’, struggling to understand what has actually being changed.  It was closed for a couple of weeks and as far as I can discern the only difference is that the chairs are a bit wobbly now.  All the drafts are off due to cleaning so I had to order bottled.  I chose Duvel, mistakenly as it seems, as I am unable to pour it into the glass without generating a head five times taller than the actual quantity of beer.  Plus I didn’t realise it is 8% so I would be well advised to go easy on it.

The laptop is being temperamental again today; I have been pounced upon by the blue screen of death twice already, and keep getting a ‘Host Process for Windows Services stopped working and was closed’.  I have no idea what this means, and if it spells impending computer doom.

This is the first time I’ve blogged in public, and it’s a strange feeling.  Despite the fact I will post this for all to read, I am paranoiacally aware that someone may glance over my shoulder at these words as I write them.  For some reason this terrifies me; oh what a desperate thrill.  So perhaps I can just make small observations about what I can see from the window.  A bus with “Jesus loves you”  emblazoned on the side, pert-titted female students with blonde ponytails, lanky male students with funny little beards, a man in a van eating a pasty, an old Asian fellow coming out of the vegetarian cafe, an old guy sitting opposite me with a trilby a pile of books and a miniscule cup of coffee.  Fascinating eh?  No, I guess not.

Having my laptop out in public also makes me painfully aware of its shitty quality.  Although it’s only about 18 months old, it has a missing H key, duct tape over the camera (after I got paranoid that a cracked game I downloaded was spying on me because the camera light came on unprovoked), dust in all the crevices, and a useless battery that means I need to keep it plugged into the mains at all times.  It’s also suspiciously large, and un-Apple.  People who write in public are surely only doing it to show off their twattish status as an Apple user.  It’s true Apple used to be cool, when it was primarily aimed at creators (with its excellence as a video and audio editing tool), but now it is primarily aimed at thoughtless consumers (iPod, ~Phone, ~Pad: cool, but essentially useless).  And yes they look good, stylish, sexy, all that, but I really don’t think that an Apple product would go with my age-ripped jeans, and scratched watch.  No, until I have expensive and stylish clothes, glasses and accessories I have no business considering purchasing any Apple products.  I shall make do with my ugly battered laptop, which goes perfectly with my ugly battered clothes.  And face.

I had a King Solomon’s Breakfast (or at least just over half of it) and although it looks nice must conclude that it is not a patch on the kind you would get for half the price in a greasy spoon.  Bury black pudding: check, but only two tiny little bites.  Weird posh hash browns which are too dry and not as flavourful as the frozen kind you can buy in a big bag for 79p from any supermarket.  Two tasty sausages that look like big fat tropical grubs.  Not bad, but not worth the money.

Anyway, down to the main reason I am here, which is to finish my short story for next month’s Blank Pages magazine away from the distraction of the TV.  Off I go.

This is hard work.  There is soul music and casual chit-chat to proving multitudinous distraction.  Plus it’s pretty bloody cold in here, and seems to have no wi-fi.  Maybe I’ll try the library.  Hopefully they’ll have electricity I can steal.