Beach Sloth

RIP BEACH SLOTH COMPY (2010-2012)

              Blogging is the crab fishing of computers. They can only handle so much. My blogging has resulted in two computer deaths. For the first computer it wasn’t a big deal since nobody really cared about my online presence, etc. My Tumblr had yet to come into existence. My Twitter followers were below 100 people. I got a new computer.

             The new computer did it all. I brought it to new continents with me. Wherever I went the computer was sure to follow. Without my laptop I am just little Bo Peep who has lost her sheep. Emotionally it hurts to lose a device so close to you. Occasionally I’d whirl it around me, happy to see it. Various alt lit writers met my computer and petted it. They knew my powers rested deep inside its snuggly warm hard drive. Yet the heat was on, an overwhelming, computer-shutting down heat. 

                My old computer had a lot of problems. It was big, hot, and heavily. That’s usually the way I like a lot of things but those attributes fail when it’s a computer. Every time it would overheat I’d cradle it in my arms and let it relax. Slowly but surely it would cool down as I read poetry to it. It loved haikus. It loved stats counters, twitter followers, Facebook friends. With my old computer I spent more time with it than I did with reality. Computers can become a whole new reality. I’d type fast and furiously on it hoping to reach a true Zen, an awareness of alt lit and music in one single session. 

                Late last night though it began to get sick. I tried everything. Tried cuddling, cried for it, really prayed for it, and I’m not a praying sloth. Still the blogging Gods looked unfavorably upon it. Relevance killed my laptop. It hurts because my previous computer lasted for six years. Six years is long in computer years. Two years, that’s not as good. My laptop lived fast and died young. 

               Emotionally this is the most devastating loss since I lost a microwave and was unable to feed myself. Ask Steve Roggenbuck about it. Without a microwave I essentially starve. Without a computer I starve in a new, more terrible way. I need to be connected. My computer lets my work, read, play, communicate, and write. How can I survive without it?

                I’d like to have a moment of silence for my dead compy. It served me well. I’m going to miss it. Thankfully I recovered all my files from it (via the external hard drive life). Hope that my new computer can continue the relevance that my old one did so effortlessly. Take a moment and hug your computer. Thank it for being there when nobody else was there. Appreciate what you have. You’ll never miss it until it is gone.

PS:

                Anybody who would like to contribute to the ‘Beach Sloth computer fund’ can go to CafePress, buy a book directly from me, or simply donate to: pleasepaybeachsloth@gmail.com (for Paypal). Thank you.