An Essay On The Deleterious
Effects Of Too Much Computerism

or

Dave’s Been Smoking Those Funny Cigarettes Again !

by Dave Hunt

It was small, black, rectangular and had sixteen legs, a bit like a large woodlouse I thought. It was only when it moved, looked up at me and spoke, that it struck me as being anything unusual.

‘I’m the RAM, mate!”, it said, quite well spoken I thought, although it didn’t look much like a sheep to me. I made some remark to that affect.

“Dodo”, it muttered, did I catch a tone of sarcasm, as it continued proudly, “Strikes me as I’m cleverer than you. I’ve got 16,000 brain cells. More than you by the sound of it. Sheep indeed. I’m the brains of this outfit.”

I tried to think when I’d last had a conversation with a sixteen legged insect, and took to inspecting it more closely. It was then I noticed the boots. 16 of them, black, and each with laces and a neatly tied bow. Now what would it be doing with boots. No insect I’d ever come across had had boots!

“To catch the BUS with, what else ?”, it muttered under its breath, “And before you ask, yes, I can read thoughts.” There was an accusing stare from the thing, almost daring me to think on.

This was daft. I’m not in the habit of picking arguments with insects. “Do you have a name ?”, I asked.

“Of course, but we don’t go by names, we’ve all got numbers. I’m 4116.”

“Ah.”, I thought, “That should explain it.” 4116 rang bells somewhere. Hadn’t I trodden on one a few days before and found it embedded in my shoe.

“No you didn’t. That was 7432. Pity that, he was a bit dim, but useful all the same. We won’t be the same without him.”