It’s a hard fact for any baby boomer to face, but I must: Bob Dylan is no longer relevant. It doesn’t matter if he did perform for the Pope. His songs now tell it like it was.
But, I don’t just complain, I offer solutions. Rather than writing about outmoded subjects that have no relevance today–like peace, love, and alienation in a materialistic society–Dylan should sing about personal computers. And to help him on this latest phase of his career, I offer a few Dylan songs on this now, happening, and thoroughly groovy subject.
Tune: Quinn the Eskimo
Ev’rybody’s building spreadsheets, games, remotes,
Some are codin’ in C++,
Others, workin’ in Notes.
Ev’rybody’s doin’ well,
All the girls and boys
But when Bill of Microsoft gets here,
He’s the one who will have all the toys.
Come for the take, come for the kill,
You’ll not see nothin’ like the moneyed Bill.
I like my code just like the rest, to come in lean and low,
But animatin’ paperclips
Just makes it big an’ slow.
Ev’rybody’s cashin’ in
Makin’ money right to the brim.
But when Bill of Microsoft gets here,
All the money’s gonna go to him.
Come for the take, come for the kill,
You’ll not see nothin’ like the moneyed Bill.
A frozen screen or a failing boot, to me each one’s a clue,
Just tell me what you got there honey
And I’ll tell you what to do.
Ev’ryone’s on overtime
Workin’ hours at a loss,
But when Bill of Microsoft gets here,
Then you’ll soon be workin’ for the boss.
Come for the take, come for the kill,
You’ll not see nothin’ like the moneyed Bill.
Tune: Stuck Inside of Mobile
Oh, my Pentium’s out-moded
Cause it ain’t got MMX.
I try to watch my MPEG files
But I don’t got all the specs.
And the salesmen smile so sweetly
When I step in through the door.
Cause deep inside their hearts
They know I must buy more.
Oh, Mama, I am trapped in such a squeeze,
When I got an x2 CD-ROM
And they’re makin’ DVDs.
Now I got this whole new browser;
It’s a fact you cannot hide.
Took 16 hours of download time
Before my modem died.
It’s got icons you can drag around
And buckets full of code,
But it crashes three times ev’ry day
And takes a year to load.
Oh, Mama, I am trapped in such a squeeze,
When I got an x2 CD-ROM
And they’re makin’ DVDs.
Now my hard drive’s overflowin’
With files and files of stuff,
Most in c-slash-windows,
An’ it’s never quite enough.
Well I try to uninstall things
So to get some drive space free;
But there’s hundreds of them megabytes
Just in the registree.
Oh, Mama, I am trapped in such a squeeze,
When I got an x2 CD-ROM
And they’re makin’ DVDs.
When Ruthie says come see her
In a place where we can thrive,
Where we can save all of my precious files
Upon her new Iomega drive.
And I say “I can’t afford that,
You know I’ve got these three mouths to feed.”
An’ she says “All those mouths know just what you want
But I know what you need.”
Oh, Mama, I am trapped in such a squeeze,
When I got an x2 CD-ROM
And they’re makin’ DVDs.
Tune: Just Like a Woman
Nobody feels any pain
Tonight as I scan inside of TWAIN
Ev’ryone must ask
When I multitask
Is it so slow that I must hit the flask
And get comfort from the sauce.
It takes just like it’s Windows, yes, it does
It makes screens just like it’s Windows, yes, it does
And it fakes just like it’s Windows
But it breaks like it’s built on DOS.
That taskbar, it’s so smart
Yes, I know what button I must click to start
It’s all done with such ease
Simple as you please
Until all at once my system it will freeze
And the data, it will be my loss.
It takes just like it’s Windows, yes, it does
It makes screens just like it’s Windows, yes, it does
And it fakes just like it’s Windows
But it breaks like it’s built on DOS.
I was feelin’ quite afraid
An’ I thought I would upgrade
Something new for me
I let your arcade fade
You’ve been paid
Don’t evade for me
It’s not made for me
Can’t you see that–
You just don’t work
Yes, I believe I soon will go beserk
When my mind goes crack
I’ll give you such a smack
And think perhaps I should have bought a Mac
While your keyboard I will toss.
You take just like you’re Windows, yes, you do
You make screens just like you’re Windows, yes, you do
And you fake just like you’re Windows
But you break just like you’re built on DOS.
Tune: I Shall be Released
They say it’s just a small correction,
A fix for ev’ry bug, I hear.
Yet I’m filled with great dejection,
I’ve heard this talk more than a year.
I see my software aging
Their talk of upgrades does not cease.
Any day now, so they say now,
It shall be released.
They say the code’s not fully tested,
They say all problems are not solved.
But I swear I won’t be bested
By folks with brains not quite evolved.
I see my software aging
So out of date my work has ceased.
Any day now, so they say now,
It shall be released.
Standing next to me in this lonely crowd
Is a man whose upgrade’s overdue.
All day long I hear him shouting loud,
His need for version one-point-two.
I see my software aging
Upgrade it ‘fore I am deceased.
Any day now, so they say now,
It shall be released.
Gigglebytes 