The Lite Side

Pigs Fly, Snow in Death Valley, and Dvorak Uses a Mac

- 2007.08.03

flying pigOn my way to work today, I saw a pig flying through a snowstorm in the middle of Death Valley during a raging wildfire, and all the missing ballots in Ohio showed up in a riverboat casino near South Point. Immovable objects collided with irresistible forces, eyeballs evolved, and a multimillionaire sports figure thought twice before committing some loathsome act of felonious wickedness.

John DvorakOh, and John Dvorak said he likes Macs. Sorta.

I'm not a real Mac pundit, although I pretend to be one on the Web.

No, I'm just a simple teacher and an early Mac user. I discovered computers in the stone age of computing, back during the late 1970s and early 80s. I've sort of been frozen in time since System 7, in a way, when discovering a GUI was fun.

Recently, I was unfrozen by some scientists and discovered the strange new world of OS X.

At first, it was frightening and confusing! Sometimes the bouncing icons in the Dock makes me want to leave my computer and go back to using slide rules and counting rocks.

When the computer talks to me, I sometimes wonder, "Did little demons get inside it and speak?"

I don't know! My primitive mind can't grasp the complex concepts provided to me by the Pundits of Lore™.

But there is one thing I do know - when a man like John Dvorak finally confesses that after all these years of catering to the lowest common denominator, he's finally decided that maybe, just maybe, there's a better way of computing (and if not better, at least alternative and valid one) - well then, ladies and gentlemen of the Mac Web, I have to say, I think . . . I think . . . my work here is done.

For what else is there to do for a snarky columnist who, on a good day, fielded both the "dumbass" and "uniformed" labels and has been accused by his own peers of purposeless (purposeless!) ranting without sufficient research, sloppy journalistic standards (standards!), and a complete and utter lack of control of the English language, whose only purpose in life was to ridicule the Pundits of Lore™ and to chip away with a cheap "only one dollar" aluminum spoon at the mighty edifice that is the altar of the Axis of Macevil: Dvorak, Enderle, and that IT guy who works at your company but won't sign your purchase order?

Whatever shall I do, except to keep moving my phalanges against this all-too-mushy cheapo Dynex keyboard and let my heart spill out onto your screen, relating my anguish, my disbelief, nay, my astonishment at Mr. Dvorak's change of heart.

I just can't freaking believe it.

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