One week on and I’ve settled in to using a touchscreen computer.
It’s a weird way of working at first because you end up using either hand to touch the screen. Sometimes you type with the other, sometimes you’re combining it with using the mouse – which is kind of like using two mouses but way easier and cooler.
Overall, it’s great and the frustrated smudges on my laptop screen are a testament to how quickly you get used to, and come to rely on, new technology.
There is, however, a downside.Whilst transferring all my files and folders from my old computer, I was idly flicking through the Touchsmart manual and I came across a passage which explained how the touchscreen technology works. Basically, instead of responding to pressure like most touchscreens – a technology which apparently leads to darker screens and which wears out quite quickly – it’s an optical system which fires lasers (or something clever to do with light) all over the screen and then triangulates where your finger is.
All well and good – although I nearly blinded myself trying to peer into the corner of the screen to see the sensors.
Then comes a warning, which I can’t be bothered to hunt out; but it goes something like this:
“It’s dead fucking sensitive this thing so don’t go fucking punching the screen, like. Gentle touch, that’s all this bastard needs. In fact, it’s so responsive a fucking insect could set the fucker off.”
I’m paraphrasing slightly, of course. I think HP used slightly fewer swear words, but the general gist is: a demented bumble bee in the room is a bad thing. One slightly manic moth and you could lose all your work.
If Brazil was made today, the Tuttle/Buttle error would be because of one of these beauties.
But hey, that’s a small risk compared to the whole touchscreen experience. I don’t get many insects hurling themselves at my screen, so it’s a risk I’m prepared to take.
Then the cat jumped up onto the desk and brushed past the monitor. She accidentally sent fourteen abusive emails, deleted three photo albums and, most surprisingly, wrote a short poem about the futility of buying flip-flops in Kazakhstan.
Is it wrong to be jealous of the writing prowess of my cat’s tail?
What about shaving a cat and nailing it to the wall? Is that wrong?
So, to sum up: If you find yourself struggling to choose between a touchscreen computer and a cat, get the touchscreen and never, ever choose both.
One of those 14 abusive e-mails was to me. Proper saucer-of-milk job it was too.
I called my laptop Cat, thus saving myself any confusion over which to prioritize.
I think I’ll aviod these touch screen beauties though, because how the hell will it react to being stroked while I’m mulling over the problem of spelling antidisestablishmentarianism? Huh? Huh?
Jason: no, sorry. That was me. What can I say? I was bored, I needed to insult someone and you just popped into my head.