March 7, 2005

Times FeatureMurry Frymer

Virus affliction

By Murry Frymer
Times Columnist

I think I have a virus. I think I caught it from my computer, or my computer caught it virus from me. Either way, we both have the same problems.

Sometimes when I am writing, my computer keeps freezing up after every tenth word. Sometimes I, too, freeze up and can’t complete a sentence. Together, one or the other of us are stumped just getting the words down on paper, or screen.

My computer goes dark every 15 minutes or so. So do I when someone asks me to remember a name or a title or something else I know very well. On my computer, I keep hitting the space bar and moving my mouse all around. I haven’t figured out what to do when my mind goes dark. I could try banging my head against the wall, but not, of course in public where I usually happen to be when I forget a name.

My computer is driving me mad. Or perhaps I am driving my computer mad.

The thing with my computer is that just when I am about to throw it out with the trash, it starts working. Was I too harsh with the darling? I go back to work but that is when my virus or spyware acts up and won’t move or download or do much of anything. That is also when I act up and can’t move or do much of anything. I stare at the miserable machine and it stares at me. We are sick together.

JIM HUMMEL

Actually, I can’t think why anyone would want to spy on me and what I write. I know no secrets, at least nothing political, scientific or sexual, which I believe is where most secrets lie. I did finally manage to get something called Spyware Doctor, a program which has fixed nothing except to tell me every time I am about to click on something that I should not because it is likely to give me more spyware. That is not advice I can live with. I need another doctor.

I paid Norton Anti-Virus $35 for a virus protector, or whatever, but clearly I have not been protected. My computer is sick. As for me, I paid $20 for a flu shot. Thank God, I have not gotten the flu but if I had gotten a Norton Anti-Virus shot, I would probably be at death’s door right about now.

Working on a computer that is sick is sickening. A lot of time is spent waiting…for something, for anything. For that little time symbol to turn into an arrow. That can take so long I forget what I am waiting for. But that is my own virus. My concentration is as hapless as my computer’s. I, too, could use an arrow to point at what I need to point at.

I have sent e-mails to Dell support, or to Microsoft support, or to Juno support (my ISP), but I can’t get the message out before my computer freezes. And that is when I freeze and need support. Oh, my yes, I need support.

I have a theory that anti-depressants became necessary when computers became necessary. The popularity of Prozac and Microsoft seem to have gone hand-in-hand. As computers break down, so do we. Yes, I am sure that without computers, many social ills would disappear, things like agitation, nervousness and constipation.

Yes, I think my computer is constipated, unable to extract what it needs to operate efficiently. But there is no Ex Lax for computers, only tech help that is unreachable, and support services that offer no support.

So what do you do? Well, I turn the computer off and I go lie down, which is my way of turning off. Neither does much good. You go to bed with a virus, you wake up with a virus.

The rub is that my computer’s ills just keep getting worse. While Yahoo Mail was working on my spam, and a pop-up blocker was working on pop-ups, spyware came along to join the virus pandemic.

Now I hear that the computer is causing identities to be stolen, thanks to such new cute games as “phishing,” a form of organized fraud, where the thieves try to con you into giving up all sorts of account information. Well, the hell with my identity, it’s my money I am attached to. That, too, is a computer disaster.

I think Bill Gates should send a check to everyone whose identity has been stolen by his miserable invention. (I don’t know if Gates or Al Gore invented the computer, but the responsible party should pay.)

You can see clearly that my computer has infected me. The problem is I need this miserable little machine more than it needs me.

So, I’ll turn it off now and try again when the both of us have calmed down. But of course tomorrow the hackers will have dreamed up something new and even more diabolical. At least with Alexander Graham Bell’s little invention, all you suffered were wrong numbers. With computers, you suffer breakdowns. For it and for me.

Murry Frymer can be reached at murry@timesmediainc.com