07-010
MAD RAVINGS OF A SICK COMPUTER
My computer has come down with a nasty case of the
flu. Where it picked up the virus I really couldn't say, but it suffers
frequent chills and freezes and must be rebooted. If that weren't enough, it
has also developed a growing rash of error messages that range from peevish
nagging to dark conspiracy.
Last
week, pop-up messages began to appear informing me that the Multimedia
Encyclopedia CD was not in the disk drive. This isn't news to me, since the thing
has been missing for nearly two years. What's more, I've long since stopped
caring about its whereabouts. The computer, I'm sorry to say, has not. It
searches for that CD with disheartening regularity and is surprised every time
when it comes up empty. I just wish it would learn to be content with Virtual
Billiards instead. I suppose it thinks I'd be better served learning about the
political situation at the time of Henry VI, or about major developments in
neuroscience than in learning how to put a spin on the cue ball. To each his
own, is what I say.
After
that, more ominous warnings began to appear. One message tersely informed me
that a certain G32AF.DLL file was missing. It offered no explanations, no
apologies, and no suggestions of how to get it back. Where did it go, and why?
Could this have been avoided if I'd made an effort to track down the
encyclopedia?
By
far the most disturbing message is one that inquires: “Lie to WINACHIF.SYS?” The
first time this appeared, I struggled with the ethical dilemma my computer was
forcing upon me. I couldn’t begin to guess what a WINACHIF.SYS was used for,
much less whether I was prepared to lie to it. Was it proposing one of those
courtesy fibs one tells to avoid hurt feelings? Perhaps the computer simply
wanted to say, “No, no, WINA, you don’t look like you haven't been upgraded in
over five years. Seriously, for a minute there I thought you'd just been
installed!” If that’s all it is, well and good.
But
what if the computer was suggesting a more sinister lie? “Hey, WINA,” it might
say, “I’ll let you in on a great investment opportunity. Guaranteed 40 percent return. We gotta keep this
thing quiet, though, so I wouldn’t let the USB port in on it.”
After hesitating and looking once or twice over my shoulder, I gave it
the OK to lie. At any rate, I didn't have much choice. With each passing day,
it has become easier to participate in this little deception. In fact, at this
point there any number of heinous acts I would permit my computer to commit if
that will only keep its fevered mind off the encyclopedia.
I don’t like to think what will happen when WINA finally discovers the
truth, but no time to worry about that now. I've got to concentrate on getting
the eight ball in the corner pocket.