And my proxy did go to the far away land of New Zealand, and with her
she took my poor injured laptop. After arriving at that distant place she
sought out MagnumMac and upon their alter she placed my computer. After
booting, the Apple sages would no doubt see the same finder icon that I faced
not only a day before. It would become quite apparent that my PowerBook had,
in a weakened state, succumbed to vile elements and would require powerful
spells and devices not of this world to overcome them.
After throwing handfuls of bones and reading the signs hidden within, the
sages concluded that several afflictions had occurred. The first such
occurrence being he LCD screen which was creating a dimness that made viewing
difficult on the eyes. The main logic board (MLB), being particularly
susceptible, had suffered mightily such that it could use only one memory slot.
Lastly, the strange and cryptic finder icon had come from an inability of the
matted steel beastie to recall basic facts such as the location of its boot
sector --- intermittent long term amnesia.
By reading the bones true it was determined by the Apple Service Sage Craig of
Auckland that parts would be needed from the even more distant land of OZ.
With only a week until the return of my compatriot, Craig of Auckland spoke to
fellow sages in OZ and requested that one of the great flying beasts be used
to bring the appendages needed to make this beast whole. Upon the request of
Craig of Auckland, Apple OZ did dispatch with great haste the implements which
arrived in Auckland but were withheld.
Fear of unknown magic and unpaid duties, emissaries of the Queen did seize
upon these implements and did not allow passage to Craig of Auckland for a
period of one week. Upon hearing this, I felt that a sacrifice was needed.
Three young pigs would have to spill their blood so that the PowerBook would
have life. It was merely a coincidence that the animal physiology class I teach
was then covering the digestive system. Upon inspection of the pig viscera, I
could see that the needed energy had been released, and I was sure there would
be no more obstructions --- there could be no other interpretation, see for
Indeed this was the case, as smiles poured down from the heavens. My
compatriot, having since returned from the distant land, left word with her
relatives to inquire about the little PowerBook. A week after her departure,
Craig of Auckland had gathered the sacred components sent from the Land of OZ
and, after an intense casting session, resurrected the fragile PowerBook.
Saved from the throws of death, which can last more than three years, the
PowerBook would sit at the home of my compatriots family in New Zealand for
two weeks before another traveler would make the great journey there and back.
In which it would return to Samoa to further battle the harsh environment.