What if computers but ancient times

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I wonder how today's pc desktop metaphor would differ if we used archaic and overdramatic terms for it.

Like, instead of "desktop", it's "plinth"; all applications are referenced as on-screen "eikons", a window is a "dais", and opening and closing is "sealing" and "unleashing."

"To return to the Plinth, knock twice upon the Crest of Sealing. It is advisable to Weave your work to a Data Tapestry beforehand. Please consult 'Read Me.glyph' for more information."

"There is not enough thread on Data Tapestry 4 to Weave your changes. Please unfurl a Data Tapestry with at least 0.3 cubits free, and knock upon the Sigil of Confirmation to continue."

Data tapestries were considered to be more portable and flexible to use than the previously used Glyph Wall format, but the logistics of installing a Loom Drive resulted in them tending to be just as expensive. It would be a couple of eras before Flash Stones came to prominence.

"If knocking upon the Crests has no effect, ensure that your Slate is properly fettered to the I/O moor, and that you have a strong connection to your Deity Service Provider. If the problem persists, hail us by blowing C-F-Dsharp-G-Fsharp-Dflat-C on your courtesy conch."

This has quickly devolved from linguistic skeumorphism into me just imagining "what if ancient Egypt but also computers"

"O Mighty Lord of Technical Support, please assist me in fettering my input chisel to my Plinth-top, for it doth not respond." "Hast thou tried renouncing and redeclaring your faith from the Implements Dais? That worketh for 90 percent of input calamities."

"I cannot find the Avatar!" "It might have gone off the Plinth edge. Try rolling the Trackboulder towards the northwest, then your avatar should be visible." "Nay, it disobeys me, the Avatar cannot be seen!" "Hast thou fettered the Trackboulder to its moor?" "... Tarry a moment."

"I was writing a letter to the Romans, and my Plinth vanished before I could Weave it. Can you connect me with the Systems Priest?" "The Systems Priest has journeyed to the mountain top to receive a new Epistle. It should be finished scribing in 40 days and 40 nights."

"Blasted Epistle updates, they always happen at the worst time!" "Perhaps we should consider swearing fealty to another operating pantheon?" "I'll not hear such heresy! Besides, no other pantheon will play my favorite Mancala game."

"M'lord, have you considered compiling our own texts from the source glyphs?" "That will never catch on and you know it."

"This is the New Covenant; it containeth many new features." "Doth it still act upon mine Old Covenant rituals?" "Nay, thou shalt develop new rituals." "Mayhaps the New Covenant can play Doom?" "Nay, Doom is a legacy ritual and is no longer supported."

A new Epistle Update has finally been delivered from the mountain top by the Systems Priest. The followers are astonished by its new doctrine, as it is unclear how compatible it is with their ancestral plinths. The discussion Book was finally Sealed after 174 Stanzas of debate.

I've just now realized that the time between this Verse and the Stanza before it was almost 40 days and 40 nights. I do not plan these things.

Just remember when updating to the new Epistle that you probably don't need to install a Truthful Concordance Manuscript (TPM).

Some centuries down the line, when the source cuneiform is rediscovered in a cave by the Dead Sea, data archaeologists learn to recompile them to run upon their next generation eSlates.

Somebody does have to figure out how to fetter their Loom Drive to one first.

After much searching, and some careful reconstruction between multiple copies of the relevant data tapestries (the damn moths, they eat through anything), a Data Tapestry is finally successfully Observed by a man with a third gen eSlate, through a chain of translation cables.

It takes two years of labor, but after reinscribing the renderer cuneiform for a modern slate, and chiseling a new parable driver from scratch, Doom finally runneth upon the New Covenant.

And the Multitudes are astonished.

Multitude support, incidentally, was something chronicled before, but was initially limited to 12 Followers for technical reasons. Several implementations for larger scale Throngs would later be inscribed, but not everybody could agree on which was the best.

One such implementation would incite the wrath of the Masses, however, for disobeying the 7th of the Ten General Public Commandments upon which the cuneiforms were released: "Thou Shalt Also Release Thine Source Upon These Selfsame Terms."

The scribes of this implementation would claim that their translation was not based upon these cuneiforms, but upon an earlier one, passed down between High Priests for several centuries, and was thus not beholden to these Commandments.

They still would not release an update.


Paul indignantly slapped the side of his scribing plate; the glyphic wall was freezing up again, no matter how he waved his input chisel over its tablet. It had already been a long day of penning his letter to the Romans, and it was not going to be finished anytime soon, if he continued to need to re-fetter everything every time. He grumpily unwound the power cord from its mast; every glyph upon the wall faded into the dull tannish color of blank papyrus. His foot tapped out the seconds. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Blast this thing, anywhence. Six. Five. Four. I'd go back to berry ink, had I the choice. Three. Two. One. He lashed the cord back to its mast, and with a faint crackle, the machine returned to life.

The Roman soldier outside of Paul's confinement chamber poked his head through the bars with a small clatter from his helmet. "More issues with the putare?"

"The damnable thing has arrested itself again," said Paul, rubbing at one of his temples perhaps a bit too hard. "Are you certain that your decurion cannot provide me with a newer one?"

"Simply isn't in the budget, not for a political prisoner like yourself. You'll just have to make do." He withdrew his head from the cell, once again almost losing his helmet in the process, and resumed his patrol around the corner.

Paul simply sat back and watched as the glyphic wall displayed the usual array of errors. The putare has been improperly released from its fetter. Ensure that you always release the putare's energies properly by issuing a Shut Down mandate from the Glyph of Beginning before unfettering. The Flash Stone must now be checked for errors. Please tarry a moment.

Several such moments of thumb-twiddling later, the operating pantheon had returned for service. Paul rolled his trackboulder over to the small eikon for Scribus 3.0, and knocked twice upon it. He then knocked upon "Letter to Romans.scrb" with much trepidation, for what all had been written, might now have been lost. He listened to the rollers and eyes of the Loom Drive next to him as they examined the carefully weaved data for many a second. At last, upon his glyphic wall, was his letter to the Romans… sans several verses and one entire chapter. Blast it all. I knew my changes had not been weaved of late. Paul tapped upon the rounded stones set into his scribing plate again, as more glyphs etched themselves into the wall in front of him. For what had been written, shall be written again, and this time, The Lord as my witness, it shall be saved.