Okay it's official. I have this new mac and I swear it was designed for the sole purpose of making me feel like an utter and complete moron. I try to maintain my composure when I can't remember ever making the various passwords each system and program keeps impatiently asking for or when I can't contact anyone with significant savvy without being redirected to online service. Hello, if I weren't already fumbling with the whole online service I would have no need to wait long minutes in phone ques listening to music I would never otherwise subject my auditory appendages to. I want to take the screen by the shoulders and shake some sense into its sleek lined, techno touting, imac irritating, software. Alas, it stares back at me, utterly unfazed by my mounting irritation. I try to remain calm. I take deep breaths and yet I can't help feeling like this machine is an intruder, taking up my precious time in insular activities with the promise of so much more. Technology has become a language within a language, its rapidly evolving vocabulary requires devotional practice or you are hopelessly adrift in a senseless world of "http", "google clouds", "usernames" and "passwords" that could humble even Babel. If I wasn't so dependent on the damn thing (and it didn't cost such a pretty penny) I would pick it up and enthusiastically toss its hardward off a very high building.