Sunday, September 04, 2005
The Return of the King
I'm back, apparently. To those thirty to forty of you who have been checking this blog daily over the last month, I offer both my apologies and my undiluted contempt. To the rest, I offer the following story about the battle my computer has been waging against me for the past couple of weeks.
It all started when I moved to a new place, which in turn all started with my acquisition of a steady source of income, which in turn all started with my successful application for the position of Business Manager with Gateway, which in turn all started with my birth (I may have missed a few links, but my feeling is that those of you who continued reading after I announced the subject of this post are pretty non-discriminating readers and probably won't care).
Anyway, my landlord had assured me of wireless access for a reasonable fee, so I bought a wireless card, which worked just fine for the month or so that I had it at my parents' place. Unfortunately, when I moved, my system suddenly decided that the wireless card didn't actually exist. "What wireless card?" it asked me. "You don't have a wireless card. Could you be thinking of your soundcard? Because I totally detect one of those. Don't take it for granted, though, because later on I'm going to decide that you don't have one of those either."
At this point, of course, I should have simply dropped my entire computer off of a tall building, preferably on to somebody who used to work at OA Computers, which was the original source of my system. Instead, I decided to call tech support.
Now, let me just say that D-Link has some excellent tech support people employed. Some of them would listen to my problem, suggest a solution (which sometimes involved downloading software put out by D-Link's competitors), and then tell me to call back if that didn't work. Trouble is that when I'd call back, I'd reach one of the less helpful tech support types who, having concluded that they couldn't fix my problem, shifted their objective to getting me off the phone.
"Reinstall the drivers," they'd advise without fail.
"I've already reinstalled the drivers eight times," I'd reply, growing ever so slightly exasperated, "I've installed drivers for every revision of this card. I've installed drivers that are out of date. I've installed drivers for other operating systems. None of this has worked. You're just trying to get me off the phone, knowing that when I call back I'll wind up talking to somebody different."
"Have you tried rebooting your system?" they'd ask.
At this point, my landlord, who was both feeling sorry for me and tired of my using his computer for my e-mail needs, suggested that I backup my files and reinstall my operating system (Windows 98), since the problem might be with something called the "registry". This seemed a reasonable enough suggestion, so I went to fetch the CD that OA Computers had given me when it delivered the system. The CD was labelled "Windows 98 Starts Here". Some of you are already laughing at me. See, I had assumed for the five years during which I'd owned this computer that this CD was the Windows 98 CD. It turns out it wasn't. It turns out that this was a Windows 98 *help* CD, and that OA had, as part of its Customer Abuse Program, not actually given me the Windows 98 CD (OA Computers, incidentally, proceeded to helpfully go out of business not long after I acquired my system). Another part of this program, which will become relevant in a moment, was using a gluegun to put all of the cards in the PCI slots and to put the power supply plugs into the various drives.
At this point, somebody very unethical who will not be named offered me the use of a bootleg copy of Windows XP, an offer of which I was sadly unable to take advantage by virtue of my system not fulfilling a single one of the Windows XP requirements.
Enter Mark, who suggests to me that I should just bite the bullet and upgrade, since it's possible to get a low-end processor, RAM, and motherboard with onboard sound and video for an amount in the low three digits. He even agrees to drive me to Memory Express, where the bullet is bitten by me, and from which I exit with a shiny new set of stuff (and, I hasten to add, a legal copy of Windows XP). Mark is a good man.
Fortunately, the Memory Express folk installed the RAM and processor for me, and the motherboard came with a helpful set of instructions for the rest. "Be sure to connect the ATX 12V cord from your power supply to your motherboard," state the instructions, "or your computer will not boot up." A detailed examination of my power supply reveals that this is a fictitious cord. I log on to MSN (on the landlord's computer, natch) to see which of my wonderful computer geek friends who are willing to provide free advice are online. Only Mike Esopenko is.
"PWNED!" he advises.
I need a new power supply. Since my intellectual grasp of the concept of sunk cost has never really influenced my life, I buy one. I continue the installation, ripping my old cards out of the hardened glue surrounding the PCI slots on my old mother board and the plugs of my old power supply out of the hardened glue surrounding the power outlets on my drives. After some trial and error, I get the computer to turn on. Unfortunately, the hard drive that I was using as my master drive (which came with my original system) appears to be somehow imcompatible with my new system, so I have to switch the jumpers on my slave to make it the master. This is the drive to which I have backed up all of the files in preparation for the installation of a new OS on the master drive. You probably see where this is going.
The computer's booting up. The Windows XP CD is in the drive, and the system seems to be detecting it. This is progress.
"Welcome to Windows XP setup." Yes!
"We're preparing your system for the installation of Windows XP. Would you like us to format your hard drive before installing Windows XP? It would be our pleasure to do so."
No! No! Don't touch my fucking hard drive! I've got six gig of music on there!
"Installing Windows XP without formatting hard drive."
Time passes.
"We will now reboot your system. Windows XP setup will continue after the system restarts."
The system reboots.
"Welcome to Windows XP setup. We're preparing your system for the installation of Windows XP. Would you like us to format your hard drive before installing Windows XP? It would be our pleasure to do so."
Um, this looks vaguely familiar. No, you foul machine, don't reformat my hard drive.
Time passes.
"We will now reboot your system. Windows XP setup will continue after the system restarts."
The system reboots.
"Welcome to Windows XP setup. . ."
Gah! Fine! Fine! If the only way I'm going to get this thing working is to reformat the hard drive, reformat the fucking thing.
"Thank you. Erasing several gigabytes of precious, precious data now. You will never see it again. We will not even extend the courtesy of giving you time to say goodbye."
Time passes.
"We will now reboot your system. Windows XP setup will continue after the system restarts."
The system reboots.
"Welcome to Windows XP setup. . ."
Eventually, it transpired that all I had to do was remove the Windows XP CD while the computer was rebooting, since it turns out that what it meant by "Windows XP setup will continue after the system restarts." was "Windows XP setup is now complete, and you need to remove the CD." So I lost all of that data needlessly, which is a shame. But at least now the system is working. And looking at the hardware configuration is appears that - could it be? - yes!
"Good news, Steve! You seem to have acquired a wireless card. We're detecting it just fine now. The bad news is that you no longer have a soundcard."
Yes I do. There's a soundcard right on the fucking motherboard, you piece of shit.
"No, no, we're quite positive that there isn't. You have no soundcard."
Good thing I didn't lose any sleep over that music, I guess. Let me just get hooked up to the internet. I give the landlord my MAC address, he gives me the network password, and. . .
"Limited or no connectivity. The network has not assigned this computer a network address."
The landlord is perplexed. I am frustrated. Days later, we discover that in order to add a PC machine to a protected Mac network, you need to use a twenty-six character hexidecimal password in lieu of the seven character base ten password we'd been using before. Of course. In the meantime, I'd successfully convinced the computer through a combination of screaming and modifying the BIOS (I credit the screaming, mostly), that I did have a soundcard, things were definitely looking up. In fact, last night I finally got the computer working exactly as it should.
Cue this afternoon. Steve is playing Baseball Mogul 2006, which is remarkably addictive given that Steve doesn't even care for baseball.
"Are you satisfied with the fashion in which your computer is working?"
Yes. At long last, I am truly satisfied.
"That's unfortunate, because we're now going to shut off inexplicably and refuse to reboot."
True to its word, the computer refuses to turn back on. Oh, it sounds like it's booting up for a moment, but then it turns back off. Some toying with the power plugs leads me to the point at which it will continue sounding as though it's turning on, but won't display any output on the monitor (the monitor, in fact, shows no awareness that the computer is even on, continuing to have its power light flicker as though in standby mode). Further fiddling doesn't rectify the problem, but does cause the system to beep incessantly whenever I attempt to turn on.
In conclusion, who wants to sell me a Mac for cheap?
|
I'm back, apparently. To those thirty to forty of you who have been checking this blog daily over the last month, I offer both my apologies and my undiluted contempt. To the rest, I offer the following story about the battle my computer has been waging against me for the past couple of weeks.
It all started when I moved to a new place, which in turn all started with my acquisition of a steady source of income, which in turn all started with my successful application for the position of Business Manager with Gateway, which in turn all started with my birth (I may have missed a few links, but my feeling is that those of you who continued reading after I announced the subject of this post are pretty non-discriminating readers and probably won't care).
Anyway, my landlord had assured me of wireless access for a reasonable fee, so I bought a wireless card, which worked just fine for the month or so that I had it at my parents' place. Unfortunately, when I moved, my system suddenly decided that the wireless card didn't actually exist. "What wireless card?" it asked me. "You don't have a wireless card. Could you be thinking of your soundcard? Because I totally detect one of those. Don't take it for granted, though, because later on I'm going to decide that you don't have one of those either."
At this point, of course, I should have simply dropped my entire computer off of a tall building, preferably on to somebody who used to work at OA Computers, which was the original source of my system. Instead, I decided to call tech support.
Now, let me just say that D-Link has some excellent tech support people employed. Some of them would listen to my problem, suggest a solution (which sometimes involved downloading software put out by D-Link's competitors), and then tell me to call back if that didn't work. Trouble is that when I'd call back, I'd reach one of the less helpful tech support types who, having concluded that they couldn't fix my problem, shifted their objective to getting me off the phone.
"Reinstall the drivers," they'd advise without fail.
"I've already reinstalled the drivers eight times," I'd reply, growing ever so slightly exasperated, "I've installed drivers for every revision of this card. I've installed drivers that are out of date. I've installed drivers for other operating systems. None of this has worked. You're just trying to get me off the phone, knowing that when I call back I'll wind up talking to somebody different."
"Have you tried rebooting your system?" they'd ask.
At this point, my landlord, who was both feeling sorry for me and tired of my using his computer for my e-mail needs, suggested that I backup my files and reinstall my operating system (Windows 98), since the problem might be with something called the "registry". This seemed a reasonable enough suggestion, so I went to fetch the CD that OA Computers had given me when it delivered the system. The CD was labelled "Windows 98 Starts Here". Some of you are already laughing at me. See, I had assumed for the five years during which I'd owned this computer that this CD was the Windows 98 CD. It turns out it wasn't. It turns out that this was a Windows 98 *help* CD, and that OA had, as part of its Customer Abuse Program, not actually given me the Windows 98 CD (OA Computers, incidentally, proceeded to helpfully go out of business not long after I acquired my system). Another part of this program, which will become relevant in a moment, was using a gluegun to put all of the cards in the PCI slots and to put the power supply plugs into the various drives.
At this point, somebody very unethical who will not be named offered me the use of a bootleg copy of Windows XP, an offer of which I was sadly unable to take advantage by virtue of my system not fulfilling a single one of the Windows XP requirements.
Enter Mark, who suggests to me that I should just bite the bullet and upgrade, since it's possible to get a low-end processor, RAM, and motherboard with onboard sound and video for an amount in the low three digits. He even agrees to drive me to Memory Express, where the bullet is bitten by me, and from which I exit with a shiny new set of stuff (and, I hasten to add, a legal copy of Windows XP). Mark is a good man.
Fortunately, the Memory Express folk installed the RAM and processor for me, and the motherboard came with a helpful set of instructions for the rest. "Be sure to connect the ATX 12V cord from your power supply to your motherboard," state the instructions, "or your computer will not boot up." A detailed examination of my power supply reveals that this is a fictitious cord. I log on to MSN (on the landlord's computer, natch) to see which of my wonderful computer geek friends who are willing to provide free advice are online. Only Mike Esopenko is.
"PWNED!" he advises.
I need a new power supply. Since my intellectual grasp of the concept of sunk cost has never really influenced my life, I buy one. I continue the installation, ripping my old cards out of the hardened glue surrounding the PCI slots on my old mother board and the plugs of my old power supply out of the hardened glue surrounding the power outlets on my drives. After some trial and error, I get the computer to turn on. Unfortunately, the hard drive that I was using as my master drive (which came with my original system) appears to be somehow imcompatible with my new system, so I have to switch the jumpers on my slave to make it the master. This is the drive to which I have backed up all of the files in preparation for the installation of a new OS on the master drive. You probably see where this is going.
The computer's booting up. The Windows XP CD is in the drive, and the system seems to be detecting it. This is progress.
"Welcome to Windows XP setup." Yes!
"We're preparing your system for the installation of Windows XP. Would you like us to format your hard drive before installing Windows XP? It would be our pleasure to do so."
No! No! Don't touch my fucking hard drive! I've got six gig of music on there!
"Installing Windows XP without formatting hard drive."
Time passes.
"We will now reboot your system. Windows XP setup will continue after the system restarts."
The system reboots.
"Welcome to Windows XP setup. We're preparing your system for the installation of Windows XP. Would you like us to format your hard drive before installing Windows XP? It would be our pleasure to do so."
Um, this looks vaguely familiar. No, you foul machine, don't reformat my hard drive.
Time passes.
"We will now reboot your system. Windows XP setup will continue after the system restarts."
The system reboots.
"Welcome to Windows XP setup. . ."
Gah! Fine! Fine! If the only way I'm going to get this thing working is to reformat the hard drive, reformat the fucking thing.
"Thank you. Erasing several gigabytes of precious, precious data now. You will never see it again. We will not even extend the courtesy of giving you time to say goodbye."
Time passes.
"We will now reboot your system. Windows XP setup will continue after the system restarts."
The system reboots.
"Welcome to Windows XP setup. . ."
Eventually, it transpired that all I had to do was remove the Windows XP CD while the computer was rebooting, since it turns out that what it meant by "Windows XP setup will continue after the system restarts." was "Windows XP setup is now complete, and you need to remove the CD." So I lost all of that data needlessly, which is a shame. But at least now the system is working. And looking at the hardware configuration is appears that - could it be? - yes!
"Good news, Steve! You seem to have acquired a wireless card. We're detecting it just fine now. The bad news is that you no longer have a soundcard."
Yes I do. There's a soundcard right on the fucking motherboard, you piece of shit.
"No, no, we're quite positive that there isn't. You have no soundcard."
Good thing I didn't lose any sleep over that music, I guess. Let me just get hooked up to the internet. I give the landlord my MAC address, he gives me the network password, and. . .
"Limited or no connectivity. The network has not assigned this computer a network address."
The landlord is perplexed. I am frustrated. Days later, we discover that in order to add a PC machine to a protected Mac network, you need to use a twenty-six character hexidecimal password in lieu of the seven character base ten password we'd been using before. Of course. In the meantime, I'd successfully convinced the computer through a combination of screaming and modifying the BIOS (I credit the screaming, mostly), that I did have a soundcard, things were definitely looking up. In fact, last night I finally got the computer working exactly as it should.
Cue this afternoon. Steve is playing Baseball Mogul 2006, which is remarkably addictive given that Steve doesn't even care for baseball.
"Are you satisfied with the fashion in which your computer is working?"
Yes. At long last, I am truly satisfied.
"That's unfortunate, because we're now going to shut off inexplicably and refuse to reboot."
True to its word, the computer refuses to turn back on. Oh, it sounds like it's booting up for a moment, but then it turns back off. Some toying with the power plugs leads me to the point at which it will continue sounding as though it's turning on, but won't display any output on the monitor (the monitor, in fact, shows no awareness that the computer is even on, continuing to have its power light flicker as though in standby mode). Further fiddling doesn't rectify the problem, but does cause the system to beep incessantly whenever I attempt to turn on.
In conclusion, who wants to sell me a Mac for cheap?
