Machines, appliances, and gadgets sometimes feel like they have their own personalities — from quirky cars to dignified food processors. What’s the most “human” machine you own?
Disclaimer: The title is meaningless. I do not understand any computer language. Any literal meaning the title may contain is completely accidental.
I wouldn’t exactly say it has a soul; in fact, I think it is completely without soul. My computer is the most useful and the most frustrating machine I own. I suspect I’m not the only one who will respond this way.
Actually, I love my computer–if one can say one loves something that has no soul. It has enabled me to enter a whole new world that I find fascinating, interesting, and challenging. I’ve met countless new friends in cyberspace. I managed to do most of my research and all of my writing on my computer when I was working on my master’s degree. It saved me many weary hours of library work, to say nothing of trudging back and forth to the library in bad weather and snarly traffic. It has been the source of reconnection with old friends. It provides me laughter and tears. It helps me keep up on world events.
It also bosses me around. It tells me to install updates; change the ink cartridge in my printer; check my email; pay my bills; look at my Facebook notifications. Worst of all, sometimes it gets an ugly black or blue screen with hateful messages about having some kind of mysterious problem, that it needs to shut down in 5. . .4 . .3. . .2. . 1. . .POOF! I will acknowledge that these events are exceedingly rare, but the malignant dwarves that live in the hard drive take great delight in giving me a heart attack now and then.
In the early years of my relationship with computers, I lived in fear of touching the wrong button, giving the wrong command, not being able to retrieve my information. I’m over that. I’ve learned that the computer is only as intelligent as it’s told to be, and I’m still smarter than my computer is.