Monday, December 13, 2004
Ah, the joys of buying a computer. Time was, you moseyed into an electronics store and only found two televisions for sale. You could get the one on the right, lovingly crafted by red-blooded Americans, or, in a nearly inconceivable act of sedition, you could purchase the one made by Chinamen.
Things are different, now that we live in the Digital Age. For one thing, the thirst for exotic technology burns unchecked. People aren’t content with televisions that merely run on electricity and elvish magic. They need liquid crystal displays, they want honest-to-goodness plasma to ebb seductively before their very eyes, and pretty soon they’ll demand liquid magma to power their home entertainment systems. I will have to kill you if you divulge that last bit, since it is an industry secret.
Computer shopping is a wholly different beast. I assume you’ve seen a computer, as we’re having a conversation right now, but have you ever spent your hard-earned cash on one? If you’re technologically savvy, then bless your heart and get out of here. On the other hand, if selecting a PC is a certifiable event, you’d do well to consider the different people who might help you along the way.
Circuit Citied
Let’s imagine a scene that unfolds more often than it should. Winter. It’s the holidays. Advertised specials everywhere. Jack and Jill haven’t exactly read up on computers, yet they’ve promised themselves to leave their local electronics superstore with a brand new box.
“We’ll be out in 30 minutes,” says Jack as they step through the sliding doors.
“Remember, dear, we’ve got a plan and we’re sticking to it. Don’t get snookered into buying the super deluxe model, like you did last year with the toaster.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” he replies. “I think about it every time I eat a goddamn bagel.”
A salesperson, having smelled the ignorant consumer pheromones from three aisles away, senses his commission is near.
“Heya, folks! Looking for a computer?” asks the blue-shirted man.
“Yes,” Jack says quickly.
“NO,” Jill chimes in immediately.
“Fantastic!” shouts the salesguy. “Do you two know what you want?”
“Absolutely,” says Jill confidently. “We need a screen, one of those keyboard thingies, and an optical m–“
“Rat,” interjects Jack helpfully. “We need an optical rat, preferably a cordless one.”
The salesguy plays along and chuckles contentedly.
“Yeah, those are going hot this season. So you want a cordless rat and–“
“Lots of memory,” interrupts Jill. “In fact, we’re set on getting a gig–“
“A giggle of RAM. Actually, make that 2.5 giggles of RAM,” Jack proudly offers.
“I’d round it up to an even 3.0 giggles,” suggests the salesguy fiendishly, “and I’m already giggling myself.”
Jill shakes her had sadly.
Bob Vila, Home Edition
At this precise moment, deep in a very moist basement, AMD_Fr33k shouts passionately at his overclocked monitor.
AMD_Fr33k:
omfg, i did it!!!! i jacked my monitor’s rr to 200 Hz.
i8thermalpaste:
bullshit, that’s unpossible. i oc’ed mine to 110, ran burn-in for a week, and the fucking thing EXPLODED.
AMD_Fr33k:
mine’s a sony.
i8thermalpaste:
oh. :o&
tHiNkDiFfErEnT:
All you ppl need iMacs. SWITCH, I say, SWITCH as if your lives depended on it!
i8thermalpaste:
shut up, u stupid wanker! shove ur imac up ur cornhole and DIE. DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE.
AMD_Fr33k:
just ignore him, dood. he’s retarded if he likes macs.
i8thermalpaste:
ur right. oh! i finally built my new box, totally modded the case. it’s all brick.
AMD_Fr33k:
awesome! i made my first box out of straw, but it burst into flames. made my second one out of sticks, same thing.
tHiNkDiFfErEnT:
Does your brick come in LIME GREEN COLOR? My iMac is lime green.
AMD_Fr33k:
speaking of idiots, i bet some poor morons are buying a computer at circuit city now. off the shelf. can’t believe i used to do that. :shudders:
i8thermalpaste:
ya, what a bunch of losers.
tHiNkDiFfErEnT:
Have you been to the Apple Store?
Tune in Tomorrow
In an unprecedented turn of events, we will continue our in-depth look at computerology tomorrow. Our discussions usually last only a brief while, and I’m almost positive your attention started wavering at paragraph three. I know I stopped reading after the first paragraph.