Evil never dies.

These are the things I think of when I see the phrase “Evil never dies”:

• Halloween: Resurrection, starring Jamie Lee Curtis and, inexplicably, Busta Rhymes.
• Wishmaster 2: Evil Never Dies, starring pretty much nobody at all.
• Amityville Dollhouse, the eighth installment of the Amityville Horror saga. No, really. (Incidentally, I cannot believe they went through eight movies before falling back on this trusty tagline.)
• Christine, starring the VenJetta.

I thought I was done writing about the VenJetta in my blog. I’d closed that chapter in my life, mourned the loss of some reluctantly great writing material, and breathed my first sigh of vehicular relief in five years.

Unfortunately, I forgot that evil never dies. It only moves around, finding new makeshift hosts to carry out its rancor in imaginative ways. This, at least, is the only explanation I can find for the startling upheaval in all of my home appliances.

It started with my computer. My PC began crashing with some regularity several months ago. Sometimes it would magically fix itself overnight (I’d wake up to find the Blue Screen of Death had been replaced with my Giant Izzy wallpaper, and I would even be logged into my Instant Messenger; the computer was all but whistling nonchalantly), and sometimes I would need the help of my friend, Kevin (Indian name: Dances With CPUs), to piece things back together with rescue discs and DOS commands. I backed up my important stuff and continued to work with it, crossing my fingers. Metaphorically, of course.

Then my hairdryer died, and I had to buy a new one. I wasn’t too broken up about this, because that hairdryer was always a little wonky anyway. It didn’t smell like something was burning, but it did set off the smoke alarm my very first morning in my apartment. For the past four years, I’ve had to dry my hair with the bathroom door shut, so that no one evacuated my building.

Shortly thereafter, my TiVo became frozen and unresponsive. Unlike the hairdryer, this was like a knife in my stomach. Fortunately, a simple unplug and re-plug got us back on track.

Last week, over the course of three days, five light bulbs (in various lamps) blew out in my apartment. I would like to remind you that I live in a one-bedroom, not Aisle Five of LampsUSA.

On Friday, my computer crashed again, and this time there was no coming back. No amount of computer-whispering from Kevin or recovery procedures from me would make Windows start, and I was sick of it. It was the VenJetta all over again, a petulant and unprovoked piece of machinery, and I had had it.

Maybe it was the empowerment of my recent conquest over the VenJetta itself; maybe it was the intoxicating feeling of exorcising all the problem children in my life; maybe it was years of pent-up frustration with Microsoft’s finicky infrastructure and an utter exhaustion at trying to defend it; maybe it was a closeted crush on the sleek designs of Apple’s latest products and a convenient call-to-action; I don’t know. But whatever it was, I think I blacked out somewhere and I woke up with this:

I bought an iMac. Isn’t it pretty?

I think I am slowly but surely cutting off all avenues of attack for the VenJetta’s evil spirit. Soon I will live a normal life again, like Jamie Lee Curtis. In the meantime, I am taking the advice of my friend Jay T and not standing too close to the oven.



P.S. I do believe Macs and PCs can peacefully coexist in this world, and if you try to start a flame-war in here, I will send my toaster after you. Don’t think I won’t.