I’ve no idea what it’s on about, he said,
shaking his long-suffering head – I think
I liked it better as a dumb machine.
Now it seems preoccupied with sets of
rules it makes and modifies of whim;
for instance, this morning it demands
I list in a knowlege sharing circle on a
program I don’t even know exists
before it lets me log on properly.
Of course I feel intimidated. It’s like an
intimacy with a wife who is a complete
stranger to me and my particular needs.
Now it is staring at me, daring me to ignore
it’s demand for input, stating it will enter
the least invasive response in thirty seconds.
I don’t know what that means. All I want is to
play solitaire and read my email – if it will let
me. Ah ha, now there is a possiblity! The
screen suggests I may wish to register as a
Guest User with Limited Privileges. In the
circumstances it seems a fair compromise...
© 15 August 2007, I.D. Carswell