I need a spark. Or a release. Or a tightening. Or some WD-40. Or a tune up. Or a rub down. I don't know. This state of being is entirely familiar and utterly foreign, each and every time it happens for the first time ever.
At the moment, all the public use computers are down. When this happens, people become belligerent, listless, as though they have all just been handed a map without a single place to go of interest. Panic grows on the faces of small children at the prospect of having to figure out how to spend the afternoon hours until their parents come to get them from the library. I tried to introduce books to a few people; it was met with hostility. I just sound old and out of touch when I mention the ancient artifacts of printed words and the worlds within. Side note: what is confusing about an OUT OF ORDER sign? I ask because no one has believed their eyes. "What does OUT OF ORDER mean? Are all the computers not working? Which computer can I use?" Yes, John Q. Public, when I typed up the OUT OF ORDER sign, I really meant it was out of order for everyone except you. I just needed you to ask in the write sequence of words, in your politest tone and all would be revealed and you would have gained unlimited access to your Minecraft session and your Plenty of Fish account. For you alone are King of the Komputers.
I don't know why I'm surprised. I suppose we are born with an innate curiosity to question everything that makes sense and blindly follow everything that is utterly nonsensical. The result of this computer apocalypse has been a general calm settling lightly over the library like a suspicious mist. The conversations that pinprick the general quiet are all revolving around the computers not working. O modern life!
Basically I'm blogging today with no real purpose but to while away hours and appear too busy to explain for the umpteenth time what my beautifully succinct, poetic sign does in three words:
OUT OF ORDER