There is a real danger computers will self-destruct and blow me to hell. : Living With an Ansi.Sys

I have an uneasy feeling that one of these days someone is going to type the wrong words on a computer keyboard and the entire United States of By God America will cease to function.

Airplanes will drop from the sky like bloated starlings, automated food-movers at supermarket checkout stands will roll dead and Disneyland will go dark in mid-cute.

Only in the nation’s capital will business be conducted as usual, since Ronald Reagan will not know what’s going on and those around him will feel it is in the best interest of the Republic to keep him that way.

Ignorance, after all, simplifies post-restoration response. When the massive malfunction is under investigation and the nation wonders, “What did the President know and when did he know it?” the answer will be a quick nothing and never.

But I digress.

The reason I mention computers today is that none of them within reach are functioning properly and there is a very real danger they will self-destruct and blow me to hell.

This is no laughing matter.

Last week, someone did type the wrong words on a Los Angeles Times keyboard and the mistake activated a kind of doomsday apparatus that sent the entire system crashing to a halt for 45 minutes.

I tried to find out what the doomsday words were but no one would tell me. They’re afraid I might use them, and they may be right.

Hit a few keys in fit of pique and down will come the most sophisticated newspaper computer network in America, hissing and blinking.

Our systems expert, a peculiar fellow from Oakland, would only say it was a typo in a status command that brought us to a halt, which proves, once more, that nothing is perfect.

Take, additionally, The Times’ Chatsworth plant from which I write. It cost $125 million to build, and the front doors don’t work.

The problem was first recognized two years ago when, during a wind of moderate intensity, a main door was blown in like a petal in a breeze.

This naturally caused a good deal of concern and the entrance was closed. We were forced to either use a back door or climb in a window.

They have repaired the main door many times since then and even added automated doors on either side of the main door. The side doors are supposed to open automatically when someone is within a few feet.

Unfortunately, however, they have taken to mysteriously opening on their own when no one is even close, leading to the belief they may be haunted.

As a result, I continue to either use the rear entrance or climb in a window. I’m not walking through anything that might either steal my soul or lead me into the twilight zone.

Back to the fall of America.

My home computer is also not working right. I have a Tandy 1200 which, as I understand it, the Radio Shack ceased to manufacture shortly after I bought one.

It has been in the shop a half-dozen times in the past two years and I have almost reached the point where I am going to give it to the dog to kill.

The last element to malfunction was a hard drive controller board, whatever that is. I had it repaired, brought the computer home and, naturally, neither the printer nor the telephone modem worked.

I was told to type config.sys on the keyboard to make it well, which I did. Nothing happened. Then I was told to type ansi.sys , and something did happen. Everything stopped working.

Reformat the hard drive, an expert suggested. Reformatting is a procedure generally conducted by those with graduate degrees from M.I.T., among whom, alas, I am not included.

But I gave it a shot and miraculously, the old Tandy, like Lazarus, began to show signs of life. It blinked and scratched its A-drive.

The resurrection, however, stopped there.

During the hard drive reformatting, I was asked several questions by the computer and guessed at each answer.

Unfortunately, however, while this was a technique that got me through 12 years of public school and three years of college, it doesn’t work with computers.

It wanted a flat yes or no answer when it asked, “Compartmentalize command.com drive c?”

I must have answered incorrectly. When I tried to crank it up after reformatting, the computer shot back, “Non-system disk error” and froze.

No problem, an expert said. Just type sys c: on the screen. I did. The computer answered back, “No room for system on destination disk.”

Then it simply sat there, staring at me.

I am at the point where I don’t give a damn if either computer at my disposal ever works again.

If, in fact, I knew the right words I might type them out to activate the doomsday apparatus. But even that would probably malfunction.

I tested the concept on my Tandy. Caught up in the kind of rage that only computers and women can precipitate, I typed Go to hell!

The computer screen went dark for a moment and then the words appeared, “Invalid drive specification. Missing ‘:’ symbol at ruler file line 28 col 2.”

It didn’t surprise me a bit.