Sunday, June 22, 2014

Facebook--I love you--Almost

photo by Dimtris Kalogeropoylos/ flickr
Lud-dite. (lud/it) n, a member of any organizations of various bands of workmen in England (1811-1816) organized to destroy manufacturing machinery, under the belief that its use diminished employment.

I am beginning to believe that we ought to bring back the Luddite movement. Here’s what we could do—smash—and I do mean smash—smart phones and the cheaper not-so-smart-phones that (poor things) can’t access apps. I would also almost include I-pads but because I am addicted I will have to let this invention slide by without destruction. But I will add I-pods to the list. I have my second one. The first one I dropped into the commode and baptizing it did not only--not make it more religious—but the little cursed instrument flat quit working. So—I ordered a used one on Amazon which came with someone else’s name engraved on the back. I cranked up my laptop—my desktop was acting strange—found I Tunes and tried desperately to upload NPR, jazzy music, etc.

 For the life of me I could not understand how to upload. So—a trip to the Apple Store about twenty miles away. The guy was extremely helpful. He wanted to know what version of I-Pod I had. I only thought the Holy Bible came in versions. I was stumped. Like a good Apple employee he was nice but I could see in his eyes that he was dealing with a Luddite—even though I don’t think he knew what that meant. He gave me some pointers and so I went home—cranked up I Tunes and guess what? My shenanigans did not work. So—I am sweating at the Rec Center without the diversion of NPR or my jazzy 1960’s music. (Not contemporary Christian!)

I can’t disengage myself from my computers—my lap top that works fairly good or my Desktop which works some time. Except when I try to print something out my computer sends me to Fax and I have to choose another option. Wait, wait that’s not all. Then I have to turn the printer off and let it rest for just a minute—turn it back on and ta-dah—it works most of the time. I can’t get rid of my computer because how else would I be able to bore you all with my rantings.

Anyway—yesterday I kept getting furtive messages from all over saying that somebody had hacked into my Facebook account and I had better check things out.  After calling my son who is no Luddite but a computer semi-whiz—he finally figured out that some creep had hacked into my Facebook account—made yet another Facebook page for me...and was sending stuff all over the creation. So he patiently helped me erase the hacker’s furtive work. Then I had to change my Password yet again. Which means when I do crank up Facebook next time I will have no unearthly idea what my new Password is.

photo by Kaylynstar / flickr
I could stop here and talk about the multitude of Passwords I have procured- just trying not to get hacked. This is dizzying. This is my second time to be hacked on my Facebook account—and I want even get into the spam, the erectile dysfunction (!!) ads that keep coming up (How did they know?) and those little gremlins always on the edge of the computer and just salivating to get in and destroy all my precious stuff.

So I now have only one Facebook account—so friends and neighbors you can contact me and not be scared of what might happen to your computer or Facebook or Password or I-Phone or whatever.

Come to think of it, I cannot be a full-fledged Luddite. I loooooove my computers—sorta—but I am not exactly like that man in the film,  “Her” where this character actually falls in love with an imaginary character on his computer. (Where do these ideas come from?) So—I will keep trying to figure out what Password goes where...hoping I can duck the hackers...and hope that somewhere out there in la-la land—somebody might find a little something that helps and not hurts when you go to my Facebook or Blog Page.

And to all those out there who let me know I had been are way, way up there in my book. Expect multitudinous pictures from the Lovette clan—I know you cannot wait.


A semi-Luddite

                                                       RogerLovette /

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