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Fucked Up College Kids File 323
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= F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. =
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Technology and Adults - Part II
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I have felt it for a couple of months now. I fought the feelings off, but
they returned again and again. Now I can't stand it any longer. This could
be a very long piece here, but I have decided to keep it short. I just don't
fucking care any longer.
I decided to build a new computer a few weeks ago. No problem; it's not
rocket science. So I thought. Dozens of standards, half proprietary. All
bundled with useless software you don't need or can't use. Every box has
a "Works with Windows 95" sticker on it. As if there is any other OS out
there in the sea of idiots using computers these days. The salesman couldn't
tell the difference between a CD and floppy disc. Their response to a
question they can't answer is to help another customer, leaving you with
your dick in your hand.
There are walls and walls of CD software. They don't have FreeBSD. "We
don't get to choose what we get, it just comes in." That explains why ten
thousand CDs are on the wall, with an 85% off sale and still no one is
buying them. Three people are standing next to me. They all want FreeBSD.
Strangely, I find a copy of 2.1.6 behind a lame strip pinball game. I had
to return it the next day as I found out that particular version was
recalled due to a serious and fatal security flaw. The store knew it, but
sold it to me anyway.
I spent serious money buying ultra-optimized components that were on the FAQ
sheet as compatible with FreeBSD. Once completed, this system could rape
your mother and stick your computer system up her ass with time to spare.
But it was not to be. See, all these fucking pieces of hardware has weird
shit to them that you never learn about until you've read all the
documentation, their web site, and have spent three hours on the phone to
tech support. End result is that I returned every single piece of hardware
I bought two to three times over.
Every fucker I talked to assumed I had Windows 95. Ninety percent of them
had never heard of UNIX, and the ten percent that did didn't know shit about
it. One thought it was a video game. No one supported UNIX environments,
meaning you were on your own.
A call to a friend led to a recommendation to a store that has k-rad 31337
UNIX hardware guys. I called them and explained my problems. "Sure. No
problem. We can fix it like yesterday." I haul my 35" tower across town on
the subway, and when I get there, they didn't want to talk to me until I
told them the name of the person I talked to on the phone. "Geez, I didn't
ask." I ended up hauling my system back home. See, customers are scum and
not worthy of attention unless you know the name of the person you spoke to,
and this is not limited to just the computer world.
I realized that all of this effort and headache was just so I could basically
read my email. Yes, a few other things, but email was a large part of it. I
wondered why I was going through all this. I thought back over the last few
months of on-line life. You know what? I decided I didn't care anymore. Fuck
computers. There is so much more to life than sitting in front of a keyboard.
I took my system, with what few parts were left, and put it in my closet.
Out of sight and out of mind. I will pull it out only if I really, really
feel like getting back on-line someday. Don't hold your breath.
Not that I will miss much. I will not miss the thousands of losers who feel
they are so much more important now that they have an email account. People
who feel that their opinion means anything to me. The endless whining over
spam mail and people who post off-topic messages. As if hitting the delete
button is gonna cost them their left nut. The fucking losers who come out
of nowhere left and right wanting or claiming to be a hacker. And to answer
all those assholes who email me wanting me to guide them on the road to
"eliteness," here is your answer: Join a book club or get a library card.
See, if you are not buying or reading three new books a week, then you are
a lost sale to the condom companies. A gleam in the eyes of two drunk losers
who fucked around one night and got pregnant.
The cyberlife. The superinformation highway. The digerati. The wired world.
What the fuck is this all about? And who cares about hackers hacking this or
that, child pornography, on-line scams, children downloading "inappropriate
material," email chain letters, privacy issues, etc, etc, etc. News flash:
pull the fucking plug. Now they can hack me all I want, as I have the most
secure system in the world - one that is not plugged in.
See, my life is total chaos; a side-effect from too much time in front of
the computer, with just a touch a never being home because of my job to
boot. I have vision problems, and have for years. Never had time for glasses,
or the money. When I returned my third hard drive in as many days because of
bad quality control, which is the only consistent industry standard today, I
bought contact lenses and glasses. Now I can see. Colors are brilliant, and
the detail is like nothing I've seen in twenty years. Much better investment
than a having a hard drive to hold all my useless files from useless
software.
I don't have two forms of ID, so I can't open a bank account at a new bank.
My old account is pretty much useless, as they change their account holder
policies on a daily basis. No consistency, no notification. You never know
what will happen until you get to the counter. They seem to forget that it
is my money. I have to prove the source of my income before I can withdraw
funds before the six day holding period. A period that didn't exist
yesterday, and I was never notified of the new policy, despite the fact
they said it was mailed out in the statement. Hmmm. I couldn't find it on
my statement. A different teller gives me my money two hours later when I
return without even flinching. Today I repeat the same shit with the teller
who didn't flinch the day before, but for different policies that came from
nowhere.
I travel a lot. 212,000 miles this year so far, and it's only mid-may. I've
written twenty-seven checks to one airline in the last six months with no
problem. I have never bounced a single check. Last week they wouldn't take
my check because it didn't match the address on my ID. Well, I live in two
different cities. The check had a valid San Francisco address, and my ID
had a valid San Diego address. "Policy," she says. Hmmm. It was never a
problem before. Another airline takes my check with no problem.
Continental employs the most miserable people in the industry. Short on
customer service, big on attitude. Curt and uncaring. I hold a first class
ticket and boarding pass in my hand, bought three hours ago at full fare,
and she won't let me on the plane because my name is not on the passenger
list. I told her I have valid tickets and boarding passes, and to let me
on. Not her problem. I have to check in a second time. No one smiles, no
one cares, it's all the computers fault. Call customer service, and all
they can say is that they've won many awards for customer service, so I
couldn't possibly be telling the truth. I told her to shove her awards up
her ass and dance for me like a slut.
And let me tell you about people who use computers in their job. They should
all have their dicks cut off and shoved into their mouths, left to bleed to
death in the fucking street. Everywhere you call, the computer system is
always down. They can't help you until "somebody" fixes it. I walk into a
hotel last week. I told them I was there a month earlier. Big fucking
mistake. Never, ever, ever, never, ever tell a business that you are
anything other than a new customer; you have never been there before in your
life as far as they need to know. See, I told him this, and he thinks, "Hey,
he's been here before, so all of his information is in the computer, so I
can save him the sixty seconds of filling out the form again by looking his
stuff up on the computer." Five minutes later he is still looking for my
records. He insists on finding me in the database. The one minute I could
have saved turns into a six minute deficit. All in the name of customer
convenience.
This last example plays out all over the world in every corner of business.
Computers were to make life easier for everyone, except no one knows how to
turn computers on, thereby losing all possible advantage of having one. I
have stayed at first class hotels, with pre-paid reservations, only to find
that they had no record of my reservation. Not until I show them the credit
card statement and argue with them for twenty minutes, while they poke around
the database in vain, they hand me a form and ask me to re-register. Why
did I bother in the first place? I have more credits on my statement than
charges, as I have double paid almost everything these days.
Technology and adults and the bastard offspring combined when you put the
two together. Will someone please tell me what the fuck is going on?
se7en
5/17/97
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