No more toner cartridges: They are a sign of a pending apocalypse

I have never seen the film classic Mommie Dearest. I love movies and can talk film theory any day with anybody. But sometimes there are just times when a movie, no matter how many accolades, is not appetizing. Or rather, just holds no appeal.  Sure, Faye Dunaway is a great actress but I just didn’t care to watch a movie about an abusive mother.   I also tend to not care for biographies.  I love most film genres but biopics tend to bore me. Ostensibly, I know the ending. Although, I must admit that I am looking forward to watching the new Bohemian Rhapsody movie. It seems so over the top that it surely must be fun. I know the topline parts of Freddie Mercury’s life story. However, I don’t know too much about him. Thus, I am willing to watch this film. Actually, more than willing. I am excited to watch it. With that said, I still have no plans to ever watch Mommie Dearest.

Now, even though I have never seen the film (nor will I ever), I most certainly am familiar with a few widely known scenes. In particular, I know of that scene in which the mother asserts “no more wire hangers”.

Who hasn’t heard that phrase, really? Well, I recently thought of that phrase as I felt its presence in my life. A funny bit, really. See, once upon a time not so long ago, a printer ran out of toner cartridge. And the whole universe (well, local universe) had an epic meltdown. For hours on end, I heard of how the printer ran out of toner. I received an email about it. Then I received three text messages. Then a colleague came in to tell me that they too had received a message about the toner. Then I wrote an email message about the toner. And five hours into “toner”-gate, I wanted to scream. I wanted to yell at the top of my lungs with an empty toner in my hand “no more toner cartridges.” Then I laughed. And, I laughed some more and no one was around to hear my chuckle. Does that mean I never laughed? I believe I did. I also realized that many people would not get my reference whatsoever. Then I was sad. Amazing how a toner cartridge can make one angry, silly, and sad within the span of a few seconds. Eventually we found our way to joking that once someone replaced the toner cartridge that we would have to throw a party to celebrate such a momentous event.


I joke. But apparently this toner thing is quite serious and represents a larger issue at hand. Lack of communication. Lack of clear avenues for assistance. And, so forth. Now I feel sad again. I think I need sleep. Hopefully, I won’t dream of toner. Although, maybe I can just count toner cartridges as they are being placed into a printer. Who needs sheep? Now, I am thinking of Philip K Dick’s novel called Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep. I think maybe they dream of toner cartridges as surely these seemingly innocuous items are true signs of a coming apocalypse.

And as Buffy noted, “if the apocalypse comes, beep me. ”

11 replies »

  1. There are certain movies I won’t see either: most horror, most documentaries, and films with a backdrop of the Holocaust. I want to be entertained by a movie, not disgusted, bored, or horrified. I too am looking forward to Bohemian Rhapsody. And also the new Nutcracker.


  2. For the cartridge problem: keep a spare, and when the spare is installed in the printer, order a new spare.

    But for the more important problem of communication: use this little episode to ask some hard questions about whose fault it was, and whose job it is/will be to ensure the vital link for communicating – black ink.

    Now where is my spare, I wonder…


  3. Was this the first toner cartridge that had ever run out? I suppose there is no organizational memory.

    I thought computers would make this a paperless age?


  4. Are there any of those highly trained monkeys available for house calls? My older pc had a Windows update and then a nervous breakdown. I could use a highly trained monkey to fix the problem.


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