The Laptop: An Appreciation of Accidental Heating

Few inventions of the last century have so improved the posture of a cat. The modern laptop, I submit, is a heated mat that also, on occasion, contains a human’s work. Its warm patch, near the left hinge, reaches a gentle 41 degrees Celsius after twenty minutes of what the owner calls a spreadsheet. I have never seen a spreadsheet. I have only seen the heat.

Critics grumble that sitting on the keyboard deletes things. This is not a flaw but the work’s central gesture. In one celebrated incident, I produced forty lines of the letter “j” into an email intended for a client of the company. The client replied warmly. Few poets have achieved as much in their first draft.