long rest morning, get up, make coffee still wearing those night clothes. Why not, why on earth change? Just sort things a bit. Use the bathroom. Saturday, no work. Friday spent watching the Vanities at work celebrating their own brilliance, giving each other awards and things in a cramped old lecture theatre. Spend time recovering from this academic congress.
Tinnitus and coffee, son screaming in frustration at his computer. He cannot imagine a situation without a multicoloured screen and a hand operated guide to move things about in a manner now called intuitive, but is actually the result of training. Mouse operation has little to do with intuition, it needs to be learnt and trained like so many other things.
Punched cards would be a nightmare, stacks of papers, typed output, a world grown and died inside the space of a lifetime.
Tidy up all the used clothing, smelly socks, underwear of meanwhile doubtful hygienic quality, and sit at the living room table writing these notes for the future.
The son has his clothes on, those clothes suitable for use on the streets. Bells are ringing, church bells sounding in loud celebration of saturday´s services.
It is nine fifty seven now, the son is ready to go now. He has left the rest of the world waiting, finishing his play with the machines.
He is eleven, he is only playing.
Let us leave and go for a morning drink and a pastry in the discount bakery.
Tinnitus and coffee, son screaming in frustration at his computer. He cannot imagine a situation without a multicoloured screen and a hand operated guide to move things about in a manner now called intuitive, but is actually the result of training. Mouse operation has little to do with intuition, it needs to be learnt and trained like so many other things.
Punched cards would be a nightmare, stacks of papers, typed output, a world grown and died inside the space of a lifetime.
Tidy up all the used clothing, smelly socks, underwear of meanwhile doubtful hygienic quality, and sit at the living room table writing these notes for the future.
The son has his clothes on, those clothes suitable for use on the streets. Bells are ringing, church bells sounding in loud celebration of saturday´s services.
It is nine fifty seven now, the son is ready to go now. He has left the rest of the world waiting, finishing his play with the machines.
He is eleven, he is only playing.
Let us leave and go for a morning drink and a pastry in the discount bakery.
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