|Part of what I hoped to write about. Jae Rhim Lee & the Infinity Burial Project.|
Last week an errant metal object careened into my husband's PC laptop. The impact rendered the LCD inoperable. Shattered might be a more accurate description.
This week I pulled my beloved, long-time companion -- my Mac laptop -- out from her hibernation hidey hole under the bed. I found her to be unresponsive. We choked up the cash & replaced the battery which had been fading. Still, she does not respond. It turns out she probably has a known issue for her breed which requires the long pilgrimage back to the Apple homeland to have critical organs replaced.
I am trying not to have a heart attack over the 30-40,000 photographic images, hundreds of digital art pieces & four years of writing stored inside her hard drive. My last backup was before we left for Utah. That means the photographic documentation of an entire season of foraging, ceremony, discovery & magic are cloistered there & only there...
Ok, perhaps it is in my memory too, but that is admittedly less reliable.
Maybe my precious laptop died of neglect, but I have been suspecting that this is all a sinister plan on the part of my phone to further insinuate itself into my life. For now, if I want to accomplish anything across the ether, I must take the children to the library (it's a bit like herding cats... noisy cats) or, I can use the phone.
Ah, the phone which I had to use to call Heather Awen to leave her a panicked voicemail. The phone who says, "Ah, see, I can be just a useful as your precious Mac. I can let you post to the blog!" Except that it fails to recognise that it takes crappy photos & it is a pain in the ass to peck away at this tiny keypad.
The phone also allowed Heather to call me back & to tell me she believes that there is a Technology Curse on the ABC. This is very curious, on many levels.
If my life were more invested in social media (or should I say, at all?) or were I still ensconced in the virtual world of a MMORPG, this whole situation would be devastating. At present, it feels like some kind of subtle oracular message. Probably something deeper than, "back up your data," although I am sure that is part of it.
In lieu of a lengthy post about various spirit-selves, myco-remediation of human corpses, the Western taboo of death & all the other good stuff I intended for this month's theme, perhaps, dear readers, you might share an anecdote or two of your own about your experiences with "data death," the failure of technology &/or becoming abruptly disconnected. Your stories need not involve computers as the technology du jour -- tell us about when you lost your phone, your electric toothbrush died, your apple press was irreparably damaged, your roof began leaking, or about the car you drove into the ground. We are all in relationship with objects & devices & their technologies, yet we rarely pause to examine those relationships until something goes sour. It seems to me that isn't too different from how we manage most of our human relationships & in this respect, I think it begs closer examination.