My Own Little Slice of Pi

My monthly post is up at Mad Genius Club, in which I was eloquent about my new toys. Seriously, I’m jazzed about my new writing computer. It’s, it’s … just go read.

So I got a new toy tool a few days ago. Actually, a couple of them, and the first precipitated the second. You see, I acquired a new keyboard. The keyboard I had was … less than awesome. Keys were pressed, strokes registered, but it all felt … well, lackluster is putting it tactfully. The keystrokes were short, the action blunted, the sound muffled. It felt as though I was trying to type through sand. I was always pulled out of what I was doing to make sure I was still doing it. Yes, those are my fingers pounding plodding away. Gosh, I sure hope those electrons know where to go.

Anyway, it was … uncomfortable. Not a state in which to try to write. Enter Das Keyboard. It’s a little spendy- okay, it’s more than a little spendy. At $160, it’s more expensive than the second acquisition, but the keys are a dream. It utilizes mechanical keys. They have substance. They have haptic response! They strike like the very hammer of Thor! (Also, it’s Germish. (Is it German? Not really, but it’s kinda like German: it’s Germ-ish.) Actually, it’s made in China and sold by a company in Texas.)

About depascoe

David E. Pascoe is a ne’er-do-well of broad interests and little focus. He spent his childhood firmly ensconced in worlds of fantasy and science fiction with brief sorties into worlds of contemporary, horror and historical fiction of various stripes and inclinations. After rigorous intellectual training in theology and philosophy, he elected to enlist in the United States Navy, during which he used none of his skills to particularly good effect. Upon his separation from active duty, he dove back into speculative fiction, but this time as a content creator. He writes in several genre, and if you behave very well, dear reader, you may even get to sample some his efforts. David spends his time in relative isolation somewhere on the East Part of the North American continent. His time is devoured by his infant son, and caring for his wife. Writing has taken something of a back seat, a circumstance not David's liking, nor to that of the characters occupying his head. They seem to be organizing a strike . . .
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