There comes a point in every man’s life where he has to break out his Cap’n Crunch decoder ring and run the freaky-deeky techno jargon on his Blue Screen Of Death against the correct cypher and come to a conclusion that a simple reboot is nothing but a short term fix.

How’s that for a thoughtful metaphor?

Going forward I’ll refer to the Blue Screen Of Death as the BSOD.

I won’t go into a whole lot of detail at this point short of commenting on that particular shade of blue to be somewhat soothing.  It wasn’t always that soothing though.

Prior to my recent epiphany, I found the BSOD hard to see, hard to read, and hard to interpret.  The cryptic language on the BSOD dances about the monitor from top to bottom in the same way it does in the Matrix.  Recent cognitive recalibrations, tremors in the Force, and tinglings of my Spidey senses have allowed me to interpret what’s really going on with the particular computer which persists in producing that blasted BSOD.

You see, my dear reader, it’s not the BSOD that’s the problem.

It’s the computer itself.

Fix the computer, and the BSOD gets fixed in the process.

So here’s my prediction.

 If I can fix the malfunctioning computer in the coming months, I’ll be fine.

If I keep rebooting it because of the BSOD, my assessment will generally put me attached to another object by an inclined plane, wrapped helically around an axis.