platonic defection

I have a silly confession to make: I'm affectionate about my hard drive. I know she's not much of a looker and she gets pretty noisy at times, but she has something very unique. Inceptionally she was as run-of-the-mill and no more poignant than your average toaster. Yet having cultivated and nourished her over the years with bits of stuff I care about I've developed a special fondness of my magnetic friend. A compilation of stuff that matters, she is my soul on a platter. Nearly a decade of handpicked odds and ends, business mixed with pleasure, a curious blend of things to be treasured.

A nudie pic of my hard drive

Call me one bit short of a nibble, but didn't Anne Frank even name her diary "Kitty"? Nobody seems to raise brows about that. What makes diaries so special? If you remove the binder, it's basically just thick toiletpaper for people with loose bowels so the diarrhea doesn't seep through. And what about people naming their cars? Lets see a car accelerate from 0 to 7200 RPM in only a few seconds! Not to even mention the marines encouraging rookies to bond with their rifle. At least my platter doesn't cause brainsplatter!

If you ask me, there's nothing wrong with a little plate-onic affection. Sadly, I first had to lose her before I learned how much I appreciated her. As Plato so delicately put it: "Must not all things at the last be swallowed up in death?". One day she just lost her drive. Her tiny little head got stuck and rigor mortis set in. Her once so frolicsome spinning noises were no more. Only that awful tick of death (head damage 1) setting my teeth on edge. Complete platonic defection.

The outlook was as grim as the skies over Moscow the day Joseph Stalin became member of the Communist Party, but I made a vow that I would bring my hard drive back to life even if it meant I would have to cross the Styx to find her. Hours on end I scryed the internet until finally I found this book of shadows from several pagan IT professionals.
I gathered the necessary instruments, plugged her in, and gently started tapping her along the edges with my Screwdriving Wand of the Goddess while invoking the Guardians of the Watchtowers of the corresponding corners, but it was futile. All she did was mock me with her evil voodoo tick.

This called for desperate measures. I still felt her presence, but apparently there was still too much resistance for her to come back to life. So I placed her in the freezer since cold temperatures reduce resistance. After about half an hour I tried again, and after a few minutes I noticed her tick of death gradually started changing. First her arm started moving a little. Finally she was spinning again with her head held high, long enough for me to transfer her essence to my new drive.

PS. If your data is mission critical, go to a proper data recovery agency. These methods can seriously disharmonize the universe and should only be used out of sheer desperation and after carefully reading this document.