'fitting accompaniment'. I've used that phrase in both of the last blog entries. How bizarre. This one is about an optical mouse which I 'fixed' at work today (no, not that kind of fixed. I'm not a vet). The hardest thing about writing these things is, coming up with something interesting that I can write something about that I don't get bored with as soon as it is written. The depressing thing is that all of them have some kind of darkness, coldness, or otherwise saddening feel to them. Maybe I should write something uplifting. Or maybe I should just get some sleep.
With an intrinsic and characteristic menacing glow, it stares. Just stares. Concentrating. Waiting like a carnivorous amphibian, it's senses tuned to detect the slightest motion, waiting for prey to come by. Meditating on the surface before it like either a buddhist seeking nirvana, or like the electron microscope on the floor below. each second of it's monotonous existence, it observed the landscape, and observed it again one thousand five hundred odd times. And so it glows, illuminating the blackness of that demure office which was sparsely populated with 60's 70's and 80's office furniture in a kind of multidenominational or to be more specific, a multigenerational ambivalence. The lidless and unblinking eye radiated with what a post-modern chromatologist would call "chromaticity of the red persuasion". Being white in colour, and with a red eye, I suppose this would have to be an albino variety of mouse.
Kia Kaha
9 comments:
sitting in it's little box, it tried to hide. This was blinkblink, a little black mouse residing for the time in a dirty great big, multi-storied electronics store in Kuala Lumpar, Malaysia. blinkblink was named thus after I paid the agreed price of about 15 Rinkets. He faithfully accomonied me around the world, only to perish when I arrived back in New Zealand, no doubt (though having survived many a harsh night on the cold and unfriendly streets of Battersea, London), from sheer misery and cold. Blinkblink now sits in the bottom of a "broken mouse drawer". Somewhere.
And then there's the mouse that I assisted John to butcher the other day. Out in the garage.
Andrew: "John, the mouse is broken"
John: "Where's the hacksaw?"
That's pretty much how it is...
john, the colour of your "vlinks" is too dark! dark blue & black... 'part from this, 's all pretty good.
Ok then, I'll be changing it. That one with the mouse was the best kind of hack, does it still work?
Butcher is a reasonably wide term. I would prefer to call it an operation to remove a tumour that was in the way of its eyesight.
Well, John, how about you be straight with (our) "listeners"? The poor we thing definitely had eye trouble. It's eyesight was being deflected improperly, so, yes, we did have to perform the operation. In the garage in bare-feet, holding the little mouse in the dirty great vice - it didn't make too much noise. She works cool now, but I'm not sure if we'll ever be able to take the bandages off. I think this one will be my "test mouse" for the rest of time...
keep it going bro,
remember: watch out for the ceo,
ask the guys who earn their dough-
they don't hang their jeans down low,
all wear their fluro glasses though...
no it was an optical mouse that had melted in the sun. the plastic was warped, and we needed another usb mouse that day.
killjoy! yours in dissilusionment, Andrew
POI. The mouse that I mentioned, that John "fixed", is now being used to organise many large scale invasions of historic civilizations , by my younger brother.
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