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It was supposed to be a simple, routine operation. It wasn’t. And I’m still living with the nightmarish repercussions of my foolish lust for more RAM.

I had just bought a new computer. I loved it. It loved me. It worked beautifully, better than any I’ve ever had before. It was smooooth,... every task it performed was flawlessly executed in its smooooth style. But I wasn’t satisfied. I wanted more. More RAM.

So I ordered the RAM from a Reputable Dealer. 64 megs SDRAM. It arrived at my door the next day, nicely packaged, in perfect condition. I couldn’t wait to it put in! What a fool I was.

I had done this countless times before. It was so simple, the new computer designs make it a snap. Child’s play, nothing could go wrong.

It proceeded perfectly, by the book. Grounded myself out on the power supply, opened the ejectors, gently handled the RAM (don’t touch the connectors!), aligned the notches, and fit it into its slot. Perfect fit, snapped it in. Reassembled the case. Way to go.

No go. No boot-up, no chimes, no mechanical sounds, no nothing! I check the power cord, that’s fine... , check the keyboard and other inputs... everything’s fine. Then I notice the high-pitched sound coming from the power supply and the oh-my-goodness-is-that-burning-plastic smell.

I immediately pulled the plug and removed the new RAM. I reassembled my beloved computer and tried to start it.... but alas, the damage was done, it would not boot. I had killed my best friend.

I was devastated. Wave upon wave of guilt flooded over me... had I done something wrong? Was I guilty of computer malpractice? What did I do? I replayed in my head every step of the installation, over and over again, but could not see where I had gone wrong!

I called the Reputable Dealer and told them of the devastation. They asked me to courier them the RAM so they could perform some tests, so I quickly sent it off.

After a few days, I heard back from the Reputable Dealer. A technician called me saying the RAM chip was bad, ....very bad. He described how they had installed it in one of their machines, only to witness a similar disaster. Both our machines had been murdered by Rogue RAM! They thanked me for bringing this to their attention, said they would investigate the matter immediately, and offered me a refund.

The next day I received another phone call. It was the same technician, calling from his cell phone. The connection was terrible, full of static, but I could still notice an unmistakable tremble in his voice. He described how, after they had tested my RAM, they had removed the chip and isolated it in order to prevent similar malfunctions. He then described how the next morning, upon returning to work, they found their test lab in shambles, full of lifeless computers. The evil Ram had broken out of its confinements and was missing! They had searched everywhere but to no avail. The tech guy was breathing faster now, panicking, and not making much sense. He described how his lab was only a block away from Intel’s main manufacturing facility, that there were thousands if not millions of computers at risk, and that ....

His call was cut off suddenly. I tried calling the lab myself, but received only a “not in service at this time” message.

Today, my computer’s lifeless body lies in state at a local repair shop. I told them I spilled coffee into it. I dare not tell them the truth, for they wouldn’t believe me, or would think I was crazy. I just want to get a working computer back. I don’t want to cause trouble, or start a panic.

But sometimes late at night, I wonder what became of that evil chip, and shudder in fear at the thought of it lurking out there, stalking and killing helpless silicon at will. Perhaps it is even planning and scheming of the day when it can find me again, find my repaired computer, and once again wreak havoc on my life!

 

 

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