Читать книгу Hard, Soft and Wet - Melanie McGrath - Страница 39

Apple Mac is in a parental mood and has imposed a curfew, allowing me to switch it on, but refusing to log me onto the Net so that I am effectively grounded.

My first impulse is to contact Mac, but, since the computer has crashed, I can’t send e-mail. I take to the manual, get no further than the index. Mac’s phone number lies on my mind like aversion therapy. Best sort the thing out myself.

So my next idea is to reach for the help button and tap in ‘HELP’. ‘This cannot be found,’ bleeps the Apple Mac. I do it again. The same message appears. Rationally speaking, I am aware that the computer either recognizes an instruction or it doesn’t. I know it can’t interpret. But this is a crisis. Why doesn’t the damned thing just do something useful? If it’s supposed to be so clever…

I try:

Internet

PPP

comms

help TCP

help Internet

and so on

Eventually I call up the company which sells me my Internet connection.

‘Is it a TCP error?’

Shrug.

‘We’ll send you the software.’

Go and boil your head, in other words.