have, and the optical mouse with the little red eye in its belly, and the speakers, and the monitors, and the scanner, and the printer, and the keyboard… and I laughed
pityingly at them…My computer was as if amputated--all of its ways of connecting to the world were gone, and it was just a black obelisk with a rich man's name on it. It couldn’t reason, it couldn’t speak, it was imprisoned in its frozen memories, its self was in a state of suspension. It could not add anything to what it had done, or remember anything that it had done.”Nicholson Baker from “The Anthologist”