Blake was right, and I dearly wish that bloke had lived on my block here on Bleak Street; we could have built stand-alone micro-processor boards together.
” To see a world in a grain of sand and heaven in a wild flower Hold infinity in the palms of your hand and eternity in an hour.”
Ok, more like ‘Heaven in a wafer of silicon, and triumphant Logic in a millisecond’ (Depending on clock-speed)
First off, in this Kiss and Tell post, this ‘My Romance with the Mostek 6502 CPU’ best-seller, I need to profusely thank…
The indomitable Duncan SWH, for jolting me into remembering how much I’ve always (and always shall until cosmic volt-less-ness do us part) love this 40-pin love-of-my-life.
We Jews quote ‘If I forget thee, Jerusalem, may my right hand lose its craft’. A simple substitution is equally apt here: ‘May my soldering iron lose its point.’
And further on the religious theme,; to my mind there are only two choices:
1) Either he knowingly understood that I needed this impetus to refresh my past prowess.. Or
2) He is in fact an Agent of Cosmic Right Mind, a conduit for Good in ways which ‘passeth His understanding’.
Like, um.. Jesus, finding himself riding/ slouching into Jerusalem, and muttering: ‘WTF!, I’m on a donkey?! I hate donkeys! And though this would not be the first time my be-burro-ed buddy has inspired me, I none-the-less lift eyes skyward to decide between the above possibilities. A challenge F-Stop Fitzgerald aptly described as:
“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”
Indeed, my spiritual journey in Life kinda started that cold long-ago morning when I finally, after a good year of failed lonely trials, coaxed an actual 6502 into reading my primitive-test machine-language routine from the lashed-up EPROM and displaying the digits from 0 to 9 on the previously-tauntingly-silent seven-segment display I’d ‘built for her.
Let’s pause a second and analyze the innocent pronoun ‘her’. ok?
If there were ever in human history an electronics-metaphor more evocative of a woman who, after way too many months of thoughtful, respectful attention finally, one fine day, decides that ‘Yes, I said yes, as well him as any other’ (James Joyce, if anyone cares), well (where were we?) um… it’s the moment when you realize you have a Digital Lover awaiting your every instructions. Ninety-plus 8-bit commands: Increment, Decrement, Compare, Add, Roll right, Roll left, Put your lips around my.. Ok, I made that one up, but not completely far-fetched.
Since this is intended as a substantive content-rich post, let’s quickly take a look under the hood: Glance at the much-truncated Guide below. Insufficient to actually get her up and running, but, one hopes, at least somewhat informative. Might get you a first date at least, but you’re on your own after that.
Ok, now that you’ve been fore-warned. Here’s a song I wrote a while ago. After enduring one too many eye-roll-inspiring endorsements from proud Moms about their ‘genius’ kid who ‘Works with a computer!’ Me having designed and built the f*cking things chip by hand-wired chip. And also discovering that their ‘idiot-savants’ mainly wheel-horsed the store-bought computers from the loading dock to the display shelves. Really! And what about the endless hours I spent trying to understand the ‘innards’ of the supposedly-logical real-women described above. Enjoy. The ‘geniuses’ have ‘digital examinations scheduled, and my condolences.
He Works with a Computer!
We work for fifty cents a day, building a house, some/
Some joker makin’ 90K playing with a mouse, While we’re/
diggin’ in the dirt, tryin’ to catch a worm, he’s making
Seven and a quarter on a Medium Term…
He works with a computer! (Awesome!) That’s where the money is/
Used to be a Loser… Now he’s a genius. (not!) Jerk with a com- /
Puter, (“Don’t try to take it apart!”)
He’s selecting from the Menu, we’re sinking in the mud/
I can’t believe it, can you? If he’s a Thinker, I’m a Spud, well it’s/
Two bits, four bits, eight bits, a dollar, he’s a/
Little bean-counter but at least he’s White collar…./
And he’s got a secret password.. (“Oh wow! Probably his birthday..)
He’s got a secret Password (Yeah, we could look that up, probably the default setting!”)
He’s looking at the Menu… (From this he makes a living?)
Can’t believe it, can you? (He’s been doin’ it since Thanksgiving…)
Get your Motorola running… Head out on the Bus…
We’re going computer hunting….
Sixty-five-oh-two, I’m in love with you…
Well it’s a discount chip, immitation leather, but/
I can take it all apart, and put it back together, my
Little bean-counter’s still havin’ all the fun, but he’s
Going for a Digital Examination….
He thinks it’s done with computers… That’s where the funny is/
He’ll be crying on the inside.. (Nah, he doesn’t have any ‘inside’)
He’ll forget his secret password.. (What was my password, “**big_shot**?) (Yeah, “B” “I” “H”… I can never remember that) (Try again later..) (I can’t sit down!)