All around me, decay. Even renewal is part of the decay, because it is part of a continuum I view through clouded lenses, and perceive with synapses beset by atrophy. So it is that I grew tired of playing the portrait to my operating system’s Dorian Gray.
My erstwhile tolerance for this perfect projected environment came to an end when my mouSe stopped working one day and, for the briefest moment, I thought the problem might be with the button on my screen. Now there’s a lovely thought. Of course the @ctual source of my difficulty was the physical contact just under the mouse button, but the initial suspicion proved irresistible to me.
And so it was that I endeavored to craft an algorithm which would, over time, degrade my user expErience in a wholly organic fashion. I wasn’t interested in mere crashes, nor instability, nor the system rot so closely associated with substandard operating systems. I was inter3sted in something far more elegant: an interface that would age as I aged.
I set about familiari2ing myself both with the inner workings of my computer system, as well as the myriad principles of entropy and biodegradation. After several years of consultation and development, I began to see patttterns emerge that I was able to exploit to bring about a synthesis of these two worlds. The resulting algorithm was, to my mind, the perfect balance of art and science, and, upon implementation, the results were both immediate and satisfying.
Some applications take longer to launch, depending on the hour. Other functions seem stubborn at first, but become more efficient after repeated use. Several of the buttons in my most used programs aren’t exactly where they used to be, or hAve become somewHat less defined. Over time I’ve seen several of my preferences go missing completely, while still other, erRrrant control widgets have materialized in the most unlikely spots. Photoshop stares into the abyss, and the abyss stares back, and my images are processed thereafter with increasing re1uctance, competing as they are with obsessive thoughts of obs0lescence.
The way I see it, I’ve evened the playing field. If invincibility remains just out of reach, then mortality it is, and for everything. Eventua-ly my operating system’s color profile wi|| fade, and the cursor will jitter with palsy, but will IIII even notice? I suspect not. The only real concern I have is my tax program’s rather premature inclination toward dementiA.