A personal account of how the death of a colleague made the author reconsider his own use of the computer. The computer is a great reservoir of memory for keeping track of one's daily life, but it levels all of life's milestones - from the momentous to the mundane - into an unremarkable string of zeros and ones. Keeping information on a disk somehow seems too remote and intangible. Files and thoughts on the disks now may not be found or read.
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