Remote Broadcasting

So I dropped my computer today while fumbling with my bag. And even though it fell in its sleeve and in a tote bag, it landed with enough impact to make my dear little Dolly’s screen all black. If I stare really hard, I can sort of make out a few things, in the same sort of way that you force yourself to make out the words in a book even after it’s definitely gotten too dark to read. Prognosis: backlight is broken. Estimated $200+ in repairs.

So I cried. I cursed, and cried, and felt like vomiting. Ah, I am truly the mediated twenty-first century image producer. I am unsatisfied by an S-video hookup to a television screen, and still unsure about an external monitor when I can’t see what’s going on on my own, and yet have to use the keyboard and mouse attached. It is as if I have been attached to feeding tubes and lie in bed, watching the EKG pulsate and fearing its every last spike. I’m broken and blinded.

Motherfucker.

3 thoughts on “Remote Broadcasting

  1. your post reminds me of childhood trips to my grandma’s apartment. the Spice network came in scrambled–she had a satellite dish–and my brother and i would stare, squint our eyes, trying to make out the distorted nipples through the vaguely psychedelic signal.

    good times.

Leave a Reply