For some people, summer’s a time to go to the beach, frolic in the park, or sit by the pool and wonder why England even bothered to show up for the cricket. For others, it’s a time to draw the curtains, fire up their PCs, and trawl the ‘Net for the latest drivers. Me, I’m one of those guys. And I’ve got the phosphor tan to prove it.
For some people, summer's a time to go to the beach, frolic in the park, or sit by the pool and wonder why England even bothered to show up for the cricket. For others, it's a time to draw the curtains, fire up their PCs, and trawl the 'Net for the latest drivers. Me, I'm one of those guys. And I've got the phosphor tan to prove it.
My summer holidays consisted of me, my beige beauty, and a little word on countless Websites: support. I don't know how many times I clicked on that word, looking for the latest downloads. It's a cathartic experience, sitting in the dark and scouting list upon list of drivers and patches. Like Indiana Jones translating ancient texts, I was searching for the Holy Grail of performance.
One of my first updates was the dreaded BIOS flash. Not something to be taken lightly, the BIOS flash is the equivalent of removing someone's brain, jiggling a few bits around, and then stitching it back in and hoping it works. These days, flash software is pretty robust, so the risk (when compared to the old days) is pretty small.
But, as I discovered, there is still a risk.After double-checking I had the right BIOS (trust me -– you should always double check), I booted from the floppy and ran the flash utility. I had to laugh when the screen said 'Are you sure you want to flash the BIOS?' Well, no -– I'm only doing this to marvel at the lovely interface. Of course I want to flash the BIOS! It's like a waiter asking if you want to eat, or if you've come to the restaurant just to watch the lobster tank.
Anyway, I accepted the challenge and pressed 'Enter', watching the graphic slowly advance. . . then pause (gasp!). . . then continue. Finally it gave the all clear (sweet relief!) and I did a reboot.
You know the feeling you get when your nephew makes paper aeroplanes from your mint copy of Atomic #1? Or when your sister catches you trying to stuff him down the rubbish chute? I got that feeling when my machine rebooted. All the pre-check stuff came up, but then the screen blanked. . . followed by a single blinking cursor. Nothing else. Just two horizontal lines, doing bugger all.
I decided to wait. After all, this was a very complex piece of machinery. Surely there were a bunch of calculations it had to do before starting the hard drives. Seconds slipped to minutes.
Minutes slipped to despair. I had no idea what I'd done wrong, and no way to fix it. No wonder the flash utility had questioned my skill. . . it knew I wasn't an uber geek.
You see, at this point the uber geek would have known just what to do. Configure the BIOS, rewire the arrays, whatever it took. And at this point I realised I wasn't an uber geek. Sure, I'd always kidded myself I knew my way around an OS, and that I could build a PC that would shake the very foundations of Moore's Law. But it took just one keystroke to bring that illusion crashing down. I was as uber as a newbie at a lanfest.
Suffice to say, it took me a week of research, a box of floppies and a little word called 'RAID' to reconfigure my BIOS (don't laugh. . . well okay, maybe a little). But given the choice, would I attempt a BIOS flash again? You bet. Why? Well, there's an old fable that sums it up nicely, about a scorpion and a fox:
'A scorpion wants to cross a river, and asks a fox for a ride. The fox says: “Why should I help you? You'll probably sting me and sell my pelt on the black market.” The scorpion convinces him otherwise, and they both set off.'
Halfway across, the scorpion gets bored and stings the fox. As the fox sinks, he asks how the scorpion could be so stupid. “It's in my nature,” the scorpion replies.'
And just like that scorpion, the nature of the Atomican is to strive to own the best, most powerful hot box he or she can have. Even it means a week of teeth gnashing and worn 'Ctrl-Alt-Delete' keys.
The moral of this story? Unless you're good at riding foxes, you should try your hand at flashing.
Issue: 133 | February, 2012