Today, I have a virus. In fact, I have about 5 of them and they’re all working together to try and get me. What really annoys me though, is how every single antivirus program that I’ve installed has been utterly unhelpful. I ponder as to the best software on the market and wander off to their websites to get their trial downloads. I come back after a few minutes and there it is, waiting patiently on my desktop to be run, and like the kind master I am I let it out to hunt down any viruses that are out there in the wilderness that is my hard drive. It runs back after an hour or so with an assortment of them in it’s drooling mouth; I gratefully acknowledge it’s dominance over the pesky blighters, give him the thumbs down sign of the emperor and sentence them to death.
The problem with this image of course is that my loyal antivirus bloodhound appears to be quite old and partially blind because, if he had actually gone further than 20 yards away from my digital field in which I waited patiently for his return – he would have found dozens more viruses to bring back to me. As it is he brings back the ones that, in the grand scheme of things, can sit in my PC and I can ignore quite happily. He has yet to get rid of the virus that keeps trying to access my internet and download more of itself, as well as the virus that randomly plays (some half decent) music through my headphones from some unknown source.
If we were a real detective team, we would be going undercover and setting up stings to try and catch the bad guys. Cleverly tricking them to think that I really was a bank clerk from Salisbury and luring them into a dark alleyway where I could subsequently call Buster to “sic him” whilst I checked his pockets for clues.
Maybe if he could atleast be a bit more active and bark every once in a while when a virus did something or sniff around until he found a trace of a one and then sit pawing the closet door where it’s hiding, then I might be more willing to pay his fees to get rid of it. “Thanks boy, here’s your treat now lets go get ‘em!” As it stands, he just appears to be this lousy dog who would rather sit infront of my chair and drool onto my slippers whilst little virus pixies dance around his ears. I can see them, he can see them, but he doesn’t do anything to stop them. At which point I have to get out of my chair (slipperless), grab the pixies and get rid of them myself.
The problem with that of course, is that there is never just one pixy. There is always another one looking in from the distance watching me dispose of his friend, and when I’m done I come back to find that I can no longer use my chair because it has decided to burn it and leave a note saying “Sorry, this is just how it had to be”. All the while, my ferocious bloodhound has had a big doggy yawn squirmed around a bit and gone back to sleep.
