| Wednesday, July 13, 2005 |
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Hundreds of the little bastards, all unrecyclable. Most reformatted. Those too old and knackered to be reformatted pried open and the disc itself cut into four with nail scissors. Those that still worked and had anything of archival interest plundered. The older ones containing documents written in formats that can no longer be recognised, which does not exactly fill one with confidence for one's posterity.
Much of it was long-obsolete work, scraps of short stories or poems long since completed or discarded - the usual digital detritus. One, however, badly degraded, sick and ill, yielded up buried treasure: archives of emails from my final year at university. Most of the files were corrupt, mercifully, but a few of the received-mail archives were more or less intact.
A pause for the Haus rules on buried treasure. Anything of actual value never stays buried for long. So, your buried treasure is actually likely to be a source of mild but time-consuming reverire, or just plain monkey's pawtastic. This one was definitely the ebola of two evils. Then again, for a long time I thought a trove was a place where you put treasure, so what do I know?
But yes. Astonishing. In some ways the salad days don't seem very far away, measured primarily in worldly achievement. In others they are alien, dead-star-distant, horrifying.
1 Comments:
"Anything of actual value never stays buried for long."
That is an uncommonly wise remark. I will take it on board when tidying my room in the next few days.
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Venusberg.org finds Blogger very attractive...
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elsewhere:
Interconnected
Plasticbag
Oh Skylab
Barcablog
Orbyn
moreover:
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Mothninja
Tajmahal
Wherever y'are
Prandial Post
thereafter:
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McCargow
Blogadoon
LinkMachineGo
Methylsalicylate
Hammersley
Joeblog
Grayblog
the Collective
Nick Jordan
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Betty Woo
Moth
Mr. Thomas G
the author:
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and finally...
the archives
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