In that time I learned modern halogens Olivetti Lettera 22, but I saw other cars, survivors of Worl

by Pishak Eagles Anthropology, Communication, Culture, Nostalgia, Sociology, Technology, totalitarianism Labels: computer, modern communication, freedom of expression, the typewriter, typewriter, halogens modern tools
For a long time it was relegated to cable, missed most of the house, the scary darkness of the basement, in the most remote garbage city. Forsaken, forgotten, unknown. And what do with an instrument that does not memorize any words that do not can copy / paste, which is not correct without ngallosur with white paint? halogens Nothing. Heavyweight, metal, bulky. The typewriter, she once wrote on paper thanks to a mechanical keyboard black ribbon, was unceremoniously archived halogens section of the twentieth century. Already people have totally forgotten, have finally banished the memory, where the dust recovered from the bad memories and unnecessary items.
I have no nostalgia for the typewriter. Did I miss as a working tool. However I did not find it difficult to accept the emotions that I experienced when I learned to write with. Magic fingers touching keys, metal arm rising strongly, suppress noise letter said that right, slides liberating to start the next row. Pen seemed stone age. To write with a typewriter in Albania was not anyway. Usually this writing instrument typists, which constituted separate profession, in other words the typing skill with typewriter. Improvizoheshe typewriter could not. In fact, there were special training courses, and a nerd like me discern immediately that the first letters.
In that time I learned modern halogens Olivetti Lettera 22, but I saw other cars, survivors of World War II, perhaps even from the first, which only mechanics do Derman when Albanians were demolished. Albanian offices that time I have seen typewriters coming from the East, with all the letters of the alphabet, what blew my mind even more recently, whenever pseudodebati opened for removal of the letter "h" from the Albanian alphabet, since keyboards today the computer does not have.
I had no time to fall in love with traditional typewriters. The thesis I protected halogens electric typewriter, the precursor of the computer and the printer, who resembled more of the cost of the belt and the soft keyboard than the other features. Now I have no nostalgia, but at the time being. Straps cost more, are useless to flee lights, break out a tiny hook: electric cars was qullace sister car really writing.
The typewriter was indeed fierce, halogens wild, demanding, spartan. Computer generation has not known, but the typewriter require a little physical effort. Must calibrate the best shocks on the keyboard, otherwise print out strong or nearly invisible. For me it has always had the look of a strict teacher. In fact, do not allow mistakes. Thought should emerge clean: halogens from brain to hand, from the hand to the fingers cheekbones, halogens the cheekbones and fingers to paper. Like any other error, then demanded repayment. The typewriter correction like white paint, which may not always appear aesthetically acceptable. Physical character halogens of the car was distinguished by writing letters kopjative. Making two copies or three copies with carbon paper was real art. Fingers with ink were witnesses to believe.
I had not much time in the company car argëtohesha writing because I shot in the era of transition. I went without the trauma of rapid information technology era. Not all were so lucky, as there are those who have known only the Microsoft keyboard. However, I must admit that what others called noise machine script (tick-tock, tick, tock, tick-tock), music resembled me. There was a certain rhythm deep in those letters beating, halogens although at first glance chaotic, halogens probably coming from the depths of grammar and syntax, the language of thought simultaneously; I give the impression of harmony, which became more evident when "writing" in the chorus, halogens the orchestra, halogens in some row offices. Seemed to communicate with each other, on its own, with a language that we humans do not understand.
If they verbally tell us what? Thoughts free? Roman ordered? Stories with multiple meanings? Reports for "lives of others"? Fuchs relations? halogens Love letters? halogens Directive party? Capital sentences? Unrealisable dream? Chiefs who, in spotting the above, watch the daktilografes Underwired stealth? Secretary to issue "inadvertently" pencil halogens on earth? The fact is that should have mouth to speak, otherwise, they take it, along with Damnation memoriae modern era, all the truths, lies and secrets that have written through the years.
Unfortunately, or better, one of the last witnesses