farewell

Enrico, You're absolutely, terribly correct. In our benighted shortsightedness we have been ignoring the core, the soul, nay, the very existentialism of the historical man-machine interface and the personal hygiene of Gary Kildall. These bits of metal and plastic have become a zen-like cyborg interface which has allowed us to ignore the realities of our Jungian existance. Those among us who have perused and then obviously ignored the message of the volume of our times, Gibson & Sterling's _The Difference Engine_, and shall surely rotate on the firey rotissery of Dante's twenty-ninth buglia of the pit, which of course is reserved for those who have committed the terrible sin of coveting thy neighbor's Imsai. How can we claim to discuss the so-called 'collecting' of so-called 'classic' computers when our hypocritical censorious self-righteousness has made us purblind to the fact that 'collect' also purtains to a short prayer comprising an invocation, petition, and conclusion! And 'classic' from the Roman 'classicus' identifies us as citizens of the first rank, who should know better! What this obviously boils down to is the age old conflict of materiality and the health of the soul cleaved by the sword of societal amiguity. In an awful orgy of idolitry we have in a very real and illusive sense integrated these actual bits of, as you put it, metal and plastic into our flesh itself, becoming no more than Waldos while Charles Babbage's heart is ripped from his chest by ravens dark as toner, eight claws upon each talon. Kai