It’s not the relentless drip of on-screen messages that gets to me but the attempts to make them sound ‘human’. ‘Welcome back,’ it said a few minutes later when I returned from a trip to the loo.Ī friendly companion for a writer in his hours of voluntary self-isolation and a boost to his always-fragile ego?Īctually no – that machine is an electronic blabbermouth whose neck I’d often cheerfully wring if it had one.
‘Good morning,’ said my computer screen when I switched it on to write this.
