Home > Cultural lowpoints of 200x > Requiem for a Hard Drive

Requiem for a Hard Drive

7789_desktop_computer_mascot_cartoon_character_talking_to_a_business_man white copy

Notice a lack of updates over the past week? Let me tell you a story.

Around midnight Tuesday. I’d just locked down, via email, a date with a librarian. I know, right? About ten minutes later, while I was contemplating whether I had enough caffeine through my veins to catch up with the last two episodes of Curb, blue screen of death. No real problem, I’d had some virus grief off typing empornium.com rather than empornium.us into my browser a few weeks back, no biggie. Anyway, it was late, I was kinda tired, and I’d found a couple of back issues of Retro Gamer I’d completely forgotten I’d ever had, so I decided to turn the PC off and just do some nice educatory late-night reading.

Wednesday morning. Turn the PC on. Nothing. Zero. Turn it off and on again. Nothing. To cut a long-winded and boring story short, I spent Wednesday and Thursday running back and forth into internet cafes (one of which featured was located next to a stall playing a CD of Hammond organ covers of “Through The Wire” and “Ordinary People. Jamaicans are fucking weird people) to try and find what was wrong with my computer. The answer was: it was fucked. £60 to get it anywhere close to functioning, repaired by a Nigerian guy who was seemingly named by Roy Chubby Brown’s gagwriter (he was called, I shit you not, Winston Obongo. I felt racist just writing his name on the cheque).

So, sitting on top of my chest of drawers right now, is a fucked hard drive. It’s deader than Morrissey (subs, please check he has actually died since yesterday). Maybe some of the information on it is repairable, I don’t know, I don’t have the heart or currency to find out just yet. 60 gigabytes of music: gone. Pictures of my ex-girlfriends that I used to post to BBWChan when I was feeling particularly vindictive. Gone. A Football Manager 2009 saved game with 450 game hours on it: gone. It almost makes spending 20 whole days of your life in three months managing fictitious footballers seem wasted, huh?

I appreciate this is a first world problem, but now I have to actively sit down and think about rebuilding my Digitial Music Collection, especially after I sold most of my CDs in 2007 to pay off PokerRooom.com debts. Are all those live bootlegs lost? Will I never again here that rubbish mash-up of “Careless Whisper” and “Stay Fly” that somehow found its way onto every iPod shuffle run I ever did? Here’s hoping.

I haven’t actually downloaded any music yet, and we’re talking four days since I got my PC back. I’ve been making do with Spotify, which is kind of numbing me away from the fact that I need to make a decision: what should the first album dl’d onto this PC be?

I remember when we first got a PC in our household back in 1997, around the time I started buying a shit tonne of singles, the amount of fun that could be had just editing the information on Windows’ basic CD player so it came up with the name of whatever track you put in. “Hey, mum, look: the PC recognises that I’m playing “Film Star” by Suede!”. Exciting times for all involved. I have the horrid feeling that the first MP3 I ever downloaded was “Backdraft” by the Arsonists. The first album I ever downloaded illegally was whatever the Alkaline Trio one that has “Private Eye” on was, and in 2005 I interviewed the bassist from Alkaline Trio and he was a fucking cock, so history has absolved me of my sins.

I’m thinking Zevon, to be honest, but then I always do. If this was some shitty comment-hungry CIF piece, I’d now ask “So guys, what would YOU download if your hard drive was frazzled”, but I don’t really care. If you can tell me how my Guiseley team in the 2031/32 season would have gotten on, though, please do. I honestly think we were close to finally winning the Champions League. You know who the real victim in all of this is? Danny Dawes, our 19-year-old right-back. Within one year he went from the Huddersfield youth team to the England squad, and he’d already racked up four caps by the time the game was wiped from history. He could have grown up to be one of the greats. Like Wilfred Owen, cut down in his prime by unnecessary strife. Pour one out for Danny tonight ;_;

  1. October 25, 2009 at 8:14 pm

    “date with a librarian”
    Ned Raggett?

  2. MF
    October 25, 2009 at 8:38 pm

    This post has reminded me that i really need to invest in an external hard drive asap.

    Librarians are hot and all, but da streetz demand you date more metal chix for more metal gig/club undercover reports.

    • Dom Passantino
      October 25, 2009 at 8:40 pm

      ^^^feeling you on this, tbh. PR agencies for metal bands: spin the wheel, sign the deal.

  3. Toadfish "Toadie" Rebecchi
    October 26, 2009 at 11:15 am

    How chubby is the librarian and will she make up for your current lack of BBW porn?

  4. max r
    October 27, 2009 at 1:19 am

    the first album i would download would be something typically trollish/childish like anal cunt or skrewdriver or something, i am max r after all.


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