The ankle bone's connected to the - shin bone ...

"The mic cord's connected to the - round hole
The speaker's connected to the - other hole
The laptop's connected to the - AV hole
So why have I got no sound?

The left speaker's cord is really - twisted
The right speaker's cord seems - unnecessary
There's too many cords and not enough plugs
So let's call the whole thing off!"

A little ditty to describe this morning's horrific experience with one of my least favourite things.

Speakers.

Speakers are the devil.

Well, actually, the ICT anti-christ is the devil. And he made speakers to torment me.

I discovered this when I got my first stereo system, back in the glory days when they were a block of three units: two speakers connected to the main component, which was the tape deck and a relatively crappy CD system. There were so many cables even then - an archaic device after all - and it was virtually impossible to get the whole thing connected together without wanting to hurl it through the window. And then you had to get these three massive interconected boxes up on a wall unit. The whole assembly was absurd and completely non ergonomic. (It actually died after about two years and I was quoted an absurd amount to get it fixed. Suffice to say my hatred of technology was progressing quite nicely from the age of 16!)

(Second side note. I learned about ergonomics when I studied "Information Technology" in VCE. Ironic, huh?!

Speakers have a million cords and laptops a billion plugs. I can figure out what some of them are - the USB port, for example, takes a USB and also an external hardrive, if you are lucky enough to have one. And that rhombus-shaped plug with all the little holes that plugs you into the projector. Projectors are my mortal enemy sent by the ICT anti-christ also, but I do know where the cord goes.

Speakers, though, are a different kettle of fish: they connect to the computer, to the wall, to each other ... apart from the obvious three-pronged plug in the wall, it all just leaves me flummoxed, until at last I cry: "If someone doesn't come and help me with this, we're writing an essay!"

I hate speakers. But I am confident that, even if they do have them in Namibia, I will never be expected to use them.