I have finally received my new laptop. A slick looking Lenovo SL510. It has a keyboard that excites the fingers, that sharpens the mind, as your fingers bounce lightly off the perfectly weighted keys you can almost hear it whispering, “Keep typing, keep typing, don’t stop, don’t stop; Keep typing, keep ty ping, don’t stop, don’t stop.” The machine is up to the task, but it remains to be seen whether I am.
I’ll take it easy at first, breaking myself in. A few tasting notes here, a farm review there. Maybe a narrative of a good dinner. The SL510 will obviously want to take it faster; I can feel it already wanting me to start a novel, maybe a few poems, a short story with a quirky ending. Who knows where we will end up, the SL51o and me. If I can get within a million miles of Tom Robbins and his Remington SL3 (even though he threw it away when he realised the machine was far to inhuman to write poetry with) I will be happy.
Tonight I am off to deconstruct Sauvignon Blanc with the guys from Under the Influence. Not sure whether Derrida will involved, but maybe I can throw some of him in when I report back tomorrow.
Of we go again, me, the SL510 and a bottle of something.