H8V>>Nnm,.zv.
No, I haven't yet gone insane, but my laptop almost did. I accidentally spilled pop on it and, despite pop being a delicious beverage which humans throughout the ages have enjoyed, apparently robotic entities like computers do not.
When I spilt the pop, I initially focused on making sure it did not get on the floor. Even though it was dripping onto a conveniently placed Cinnamon Toast Crunch box, I worked on cleaning up that mess first. That's right, instead of focusing on the very expensive piece of technology sitting in front of me, getting destroyed, I focused on cleaning up something that my security deposit would cover. Yay priorities.
After salvaging the security deposit—which probably actually dried up long ago—I took a look at my computer and witnessed the liquid seeping into the keyboard. At that point I knew no good things could occur. I tested the keyboard and suddenly was met with zbv;cnkx z.nxcm,.n..,m,z.nm.\
Now, I could try claiming that the random letters were my attempts to reach out to my Russian comrades, but I realized I don't know anyone from Russia on a good enough scale to comradrify them, and random letters probably aren't Russian. Although this might open up lines of communication with my Esperantoinese chums.
Using all of the computer knowledge I had stored up in me, I set to work fixing my computer. Logic dictates that to get pop out of the keyboard, you take the keyboard off. Simple enough—no. Those keyboards aren't prone to coming off, so it didn't. The pop remained inside. I knew if I did not act quickly, my ""Salute Your Shorts"" collection that I had so carefully collected would get destroyed.
I then culled together all of my problem-solving ability and came up with an excellent solution—I turned the computer upside down and left the room. This actually worked. When I came back, the majority of the keyboard functioned properly. Sure, the right arrow key stopped arrowing and the backspace might never backspace again, but luckily I was still alive.
However, I solved the latter problem by just being perfect and not ever making mistakes, errrm, that is no more mistakes after the initial problem of spilling pop on the keyboard.
Only one inevitable conclusion can be made—machines hate pop. This knowledge will come in handy in the future when robot oppressors take over the world. Surely they'll be all cocky at first, because metal trumps flesh.
They'll probably bring death to untold masses, but then I'll be able to swoop in brandishing my Coke Zero of Death®. The robots shall quiver under the wrath of my beverage and shall immediately malfunction. I might even have time to make a Schwarzenegger-esque quip like ""Would you like fries with that?""
It's actually somewhat comforting to know that the near destruction of my laptop was not in vain. Oh no, the minor setback of losing my keyboard's right arrow key will actually save the world someday. Basically, you're welcome for my clumsiness.
If you'd like to tell Kevin that what he spilled on his keyboard was actually SODA, e-mail KevinNelson@wisc.edu.
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