Requiescat In Pace, Hugo

After 8 years of mostly faithful service, it is my sad duty to announce the death of my poor computer, Hugo. (Yes, yes, We’ve already covered my tendency to name inanimate objects. Its just easier, okay? You cannot properly curse out something without it having a name. Just try and see how foolish you feel!)

Hugo has been rebooted, rewired, renovated, and reformatted time after time, and its finally time to let him go in peace… or pieces. The Prime Geek hasn’t ruled out an autopsy followed by a transplanting of vital components to compliment his vast array of tec toys.

His final illness started innocently enough, a sudden refusal to play any sound other than the jarring “Da Dunk” of a failed attempt to start a program. But his systems began to cascade fail soon after, with video and images the next to go.

Denial plagued me for almost a month. I thought I would simply switch back to using my cd player while I worked… it had been my method for years before I switched over to computers. Surely it wasn’t a big deal… I didn’t have to have a soundtrack to my daily writing and surfing. I would just burn my mp3’s to cd’s and go about my business as usual. But Hugo denied me again, for in a moment that still strikes horror in my veins when I contemplate it…. in the ravings of his final down spiral, he had eaten them all. I have lost most of the cd’s I had placed onto the computer… viewing them as useless objects eating space in my once tiny apartment, most had been placed onto my hard drive and given or thrown away after. I know, I know… my misfortune is my own fault.

Thankfully, Hugo is survived by a mini hard-drive, Hector. Hector is carrying on his father’s attempts to maintain and preserve my writing, holding all documents safe until the new kid on the block, a sleek new laptop, arrives via messenger tomorrow.

Let us all bow our heads and say a little prayer for the computers who help us in our day to day lives. You served me well Hugo, go to that great land of free RAM and high end silicon in the sky.




Unless Hector ISN’T safely holding my writing - in which case plan to be cast into the deepest pit I can dig, you worthless piece of hardwired junk.