Wednesday, March 26, 2008

O Brave new world, that has such people in it.

INT: Quinn's Office, DAY. 

Quinn, arrayed in something stained, enters and sits in front of her computer. She starts typing. The computer speaks. Unaccountably, Quinn doesn't seem alarmed.

COMPUTER: So, writing a blog, are we?

QUINN: It would appear that way.

COMPUTER: Done with writing the book?

QUINN:For the moment.

COMPUTER: Should we go visit some gossip websites? I think someone pretty has done something stupid in a public restroom.

QUINN: Not right now, thanks. I actually have an idea for a blog.

COMPUTER: Don't let me interrupt.

For a few seconds, there is only the sounds of typing and Quinn frowning in concentration, which actually does make a sound.

COMPUTER: Where's the guy? He didn't check his email at three in the morning.

QUINN (Distracted): Oh, him? He's out of town for the next couple of days.

A second later, she realizes what she has said and claps her hand over her mouth in horror. Too late; the computer cackles in delight.

COMPUTER: Just the two of us, is it?

QUINN: I mean, he's in the other room! Pricing new computers!

COMPUTER: Yeah, you wish. I'm

With that, the computer seizes up, grabs its throat and falls to the floor in a dead faint. The screen is black with the exception of glowing number 7, blinking ominously. Quinn falls to the floor next to the computer, in a fetal position. For a moment, there is only silence. We then hear from another room.

APPLE LAPTOP: I feel fine! I always feel fine! But could someone please come into the kitchen and monitor the fridge? It seems to be spewing something. And the washer is throwing clothing at the back door, which isn't closing. But I feel fine!

All it takes is Consort taking off his shoes for security reasons, and this house starts its inexorable path back to the nineteenth century. Even the parts which still work seem to do so begrudgingly; the light switches have to be toggled two or three times before the lights come on with an audible sigh of "Oh, all right...". The car develops a rash and a limp. I yell, I foment, I rail to the skies before noticing the crack in the bedroom ceiling appears to have widened since yesterday. I then get very quiet and stock candles and use the last working phone in the house to inquire discreetly about purchasing an abacus, a team of oxen and some leeches for the computer.


Blogger Sarah said...

Of course the Apple laptop feels fine!

Good luck with the oxen.

10:43 AM  
Anonymous --Deb said...

Don't forget the spinning wheel for spinning yarns.... I actually have three of them used for actual yarn making, but if you're going to use leeches on the computer, why not use a wheel to spin out blog entries? The handy thing is that they require no electricity at all. I'm one of the few people I know who can find constructive things to do when there's no power. Although, really, I'm still very excited about that whole electric-light idea.

11:48 AM  
Blogger K said...

Ooooo! It's like a PBS special. I think Frontier House was my favorite, but the 1900's House was a close second.

Where is consort? (I find myself singing that to the tune of Where is Thumbkin? and realize I have spent too much time with the under 4-year-old set today).

Off to do grown-up things on the puter like watch American Idol highlights on youtube....

Glad to have you back.

4:34 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

As a husband with the same mysterious ability to affect computers and such things to spontaneously work when "It didn't work a minute ago" I think I should hire myself out?
As an IT Manager it comes in handy at work too.
I wonder what it is?
I think computers are scared of me. Cars aren't though!

6:38 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...


I too wish you luck on your search for oxen. Just a suggestion: Make sure the oxen have power "steer"-ing :-)


4:24 AM  
Blogger Judy said...

Don't forget to install an outhouse in the backyard.

My 'main' (think 1950's pink) toilet just told me in no uncertain terms that it had just preformed it's last flush.

I've already exchanged words with the other two toilets, but I believe they have a union-pact solidarity.

6:19 AM  
Anonymous Starfruit said...

First time commmenter ...

I have finally caught up on all of your blog posts - yep, read all the archives!

Of course, I'm now hooked, only to realize, you don't post EVERY day! BOO! But yay! you're working on a BOOK.

Seriously, just wanted to say I've enjoyed your blog and wish you great success on your book!

PS. I found your blog - yes, wait for it - after I watched TGB on TV a few weeks ago and googled you to find out what you were up to these days! Suppose you get that alot, huh?

7:00 PM  
Blogger Emily Barton said...

You know, all post-1900 inventions (well, except Apple laptops and any toy whose sole purpose is to produce an obnoxious noise that mesmerizes toddlers while driving adutls insane) have built-in empathy chips. When one is under the weather, with no doctor in sight, all others follow suit. It's terrible that things like washers and dryers and cars tend to share rooms, because it's impossible to keep them from whining about their ailments to each other.

8:18 PM  
Anonymous Michaele said...

A teller at the bank where my husband used to work had a customer come in one day to make the final loan payment on his car.

"Congratulations!" She said. The customer shushed her and she didn't understand.

"If my car hears that it's now paid for, its inevitible that it will break down any minute now."

4:27 PM  
Blogger Danielle said...

Ah! The perpetually terminally ill computer strikes again!

Quinn, I would like to introduce your household appliances to Bob. Bob is my labtop. Bob has a deep-seated loathing of YouTube. Bob does not think that YouTube videos need to be played in their entirety, and in fact should be cut off at some arbitrary point, leading the hapless carbon-based lifeform at the keyboard to run many, many starts.

Also, Bob likes to crash if I want to open iTunes. Bob also thinks that EVERY shut down should come with a lengthy update process that keeps me from sleeping with its ghostly blue light.

Bob makes me think stabby thoughts.

7:42 PM  

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