I've heard it said that a computer cannot be stupid; rather it is limited only by a combination of its hardware/programming and its user's intelligence.
And I agree.
This seems to put me in a vulnerable position, for my computer is AWOL. It seems stupid, which means that there is either a problem with its hardware/programming, or the problem is my own intelligence.
Given these two possibilities, I must go with the first: that there is a problem with the hardware/programming. However, my diagnostic abilities are limited to phrases such as "It's not working," or "It's working now," or "This computer is a POS." This is why I have sat idle for a week now, waiting patiently for the kid who built it for me to return home from UM for the weekend to fix it.
The problem cannot be a lack in my intelligence, for I am the smartest person whom I know. Of course, there's always a "faster gun" out there, but such people are arrogant pricks, so I pay them no heed.
It occurs to me that there might even be a third problem. If a computer is limited by its user's intelligence, can it not be likewise enhanced by its user's intelligence? Like I said, I'm the smartest guy whom I know.
My new theory is that the computer somehow read the previous post in which I surmised that it was taking a "union break." I thus threatened to replace it with a Mac because it is easily replaceable (as are all union employees). However, the striking computer knew that I could not afford to hire a scab, unless I was willing to downgrade to eMachines (which it knew that I obviously was not willing to do).
In short, the damn thing called my bluff.
What sucks about someone calling your bluff is that you've got nothing. They call your bet and say, "Show 'em," and you get that sinking feeling in your stomach as you lay down a pair of fives. Don't believe those "Hi, I'm a Mac, and I'm a PC" commercials. PC's are not mumbling idiots who thrive only on spreadsheets. PC's are like Bill Gates: rutheless calculators of their own strengths and their enemies' weaknesses (not that this is a bad thing).
Basically, I've got a pair of fives, and PC knows it. There's no use in bluffing him anymore that I'm going to pick up a Mac. I'm screwed. I fold. Now where in the heck is that kid? I need PC back!