Somewhere, there’s a tech sitting in a little used room at the phone place, wondering why windows 10 updates are being downloaded over a company issue bell Canada ‘invisible’ 33.6 modem.
This act of technological necromancy is to keep me sane.
Awhile back I decided to disconnect my cell, to save a bit of cash, figuring that the abundance of wifi hotspots and a solid home high speed link would compensate.
Snow storms and power lines figured into my calculations in about the same way that horny seagulls figure into rollercoaster sensor design.
Yes there’s a story there, and a phone call that I’ll never forget.

It’s forced me to look at just how connected I am. It feels like a piece of me is broken or missing. My work is online, literally, trapped in my onedrive. My friends are online, dispersed about the planet at random, clustered together in places 9 days walk from me, and while I’m fairly certain that I’d be invited in for coffee, the typed out good morning’s are probably better than having a dishevelled me staring at them after an epic stroll.
And of course my heart is online, kept safely about a thousand miles from where it should be, and the frustration of that particular disconnect is driving me to distraction.
And acts of unholy resurrection…
In the basement, there’s a vintage Pentium, Running a newly installed windows 98, hooked up to my wifi router… It’s wondering why all this information is streaming through it, miserable to see that it’s 256mb of ram content is being devoured by the network cable at a pace it’s never even thought possible.
Fix the Internet and let this poor machine rest in pieces once more.


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