By Jake Vest

A cook at a little diner in Nebraska told me once without the slightest hint of doubt in his voice that COVID-19 was caused by Chinese drums. I was on my third egg before I realized he meant “Chinese drones.” 

That didn’t push his story far up the old credibility ladder. Neither did his outfit. He was cooking breakfast while dressed in pajamas.  

Here’s a guy who spends his days half dressed, hosting a discussion group in his own head and he is not alone. Wild-eyed conspiracy theorists are the modern equivalent of “The Boy Who Cried Wolf,” and they make it easy to disbelieve anything you didn’t hear from Walter Cronkite. 

“But, Walter Cronkite is dead,” you might say. 

That might not be the problem you think it is. What if I told you that my new computer could communicate with the dead? 

What if I told you that I spent the morning arguing with this machine and that it has been working behind my back to turn my printer and my telephone against me? 

Wackadoodlism? Or a warning to be heeded? 

Here are the facts: My old computer was suffering, so I had to put it down. I hit the “go ahead and die” button, pulled the plug and laid the carcass to rest on a bookshelf. 

Bought a new one, plugged it in and it started bossing me around. Do this, do that, now sit and wait until I’m ready. The first time I had what appeared to be a choice, things got testy. I wanted to use the same browser I have always used, but the machine kept telling me that another browser was better. I got firm, it got sassy. Then things got weird. 

The printer wouldn’t work anymore. Why? Because the browser I was using didn’t recognize it, or it didn’t recognize the browser or some such. The suggested solution was to switch to the browser my computer wanted, like my printer was telling me, “just do as you’re told.” 

After that, my phone went on sort of a sit-down strike. When I tried to check text messages, I clicked on the same icon I have used for years and got a cartoon image with the message: “Set default SMS app.” 

Like a 74-year-old would know what to do with that information. 

Then it got scary. I looked at the home screen of this brand-new, fresh out of the heavily-taped box machine. I had put nothing on it, but there was all sorts of stuff there that came from the machine that had been dead for a good 12 hours. A personal letter I had been writing on a machine that had ceased to exist was now reincarnated on this new machine. My personal stuff! 

This was clearly a warning. The computer was saying, “I know who you are, what you think, what you look at in your spare time, the things you have shared with some friends while saying  ‘this is between me and you,’ your bank account, your latest lab results and which room you stayed in on your golf vacation. I have access to some of your thoughts that you no longer have access to.  

“Do you REALLY want to mess with me on this browser thing?” 

There are probably explanations that are a lot more reasonable than a computer conspiracy. You can probably find one online, and it will no doubt be exactly what your computer wants you to think. If that eases your mind, go with it. 

As for me, I know a Chinese drum when I hear one. I’m switching browsers.