Just bitchin'

The Defrag Dance


There’s a housekeeping function in the maintenance section of my computer. It’s called ‘defrag.’

I push a few keys, make a few selections, and…presto! I can watch some industrious, little genie sort through all the bits and bytes that have somehow been secreted in odd nooks of my hard drive, assembling them, reuniting them.

A graphic representation is provided that I assume symbolizes the actual defrag process. If it’s taken literally, then my hard drive looks like a Mondrian painting, composed of squares of color in varying sizes.

The little defrag elf sorts through this colorful landscape, moving all the squares of one color that have inexplicably scattered from their brethren back to where they belong.

I find this fascinating. Like the I-take-it-back command of ctrl + z, defragging would be a marvelous thing if it could be applied to one’s life.

It’s akin to a lost lamb finding its flock…

A prodigal being returned to his family…

A lonely soul reuniting with his tribe.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful to press a few buttons and find out where you’re really supposed to be?

Yes, it would. But it’s just a techno-dream. The defrag elf collects the lost strays and corrals them together, but once the mesmerizing dance is done, my laptop is only a small mote of controlled chaos waiting to break free.

Soon the defragging will loosen its hold. There will be fragging.

Because I’m sure that chaos is the norm.

And life is a maze.

It might be lonelier, but it’s more interesting that way.