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Composition: what is a computer virus

Stories and News No. 1055

Francine is a common adolescent, to a hasty eye.
Even to one with time to sell, if you know what I mean.
It happens often that, in order to understand others, gaze and other overrated senses are not enough.
In any case, Francine should make a composition, even if she doesn’t want it, but her grades are going down day by day.
Title: What are computer viruses?
She’s going to write, but then she decides to start with the classic copy from the internet, to be sure of having said at least something right: A computer virus is a program that infects the PC, while creating copies of itself, usually without being detected by the user, just like biological viruses. Those who make and spread viruses are called hackers, who take advantage of the weakness of operating systems to damage computers, slowing down or conditioning their functioning.
Francine remains with the pen suspended on the

sheet and, as it often happens when she comes across something that makes her particularly puzzled, she begins to nibble on the cap.
It must be said that the girl is really tired.
Also, please, try to understand and tolerate the following words, because the teacher won’t do it, Francine is sure about that.
Too many times she tried to follow the canonical way, requested by the ministerial educational programs, but she didn’t manage to go beyond the line of sufficiency.
“At most Fran turns on the obvious,” said the Literature teacher to her parents.
She didn’t reveal it to them, not even to herself, but she suffered about that, inside, where the eye doesn’t reach and the heart doesn’t hurt, but the soul does.
For this reason, she takes a breath, re-reads the pre-defined definition several times as to better load the shot and sprouts his thoughts on the page.
Viruses are social networks, no one feels excluded, that is banned. They poison us of mediocrity by literally forcing us to make copies of ourselves, all the same, all differently idiotic, not to make us discover others, to the detriment of the user who has nothing, used by everyone except the now former owner of his identity.
They are the hackers of our own life and with our caricatures loaded on the shoulders we serve the great friend of anyone by offering a huge like as a gift to the virtual world that is getting bigger and smaller at the same time.
Viruses are the state and power newspapers, the party press and the digital spokesmen of the mafia, personal blogs disguised as collective ones and collective blogs disguised as independent, banner ads masked as important articles and commercials with the banners with good intentions, platforms of movements made from below managed by the top and lots of social pages screaming madness which even the managers know more about the origin of. All of them used to download directly into the belly of the loyal connected ones, or just for excess of clicks, remastered copies of old ravings like the world itself, where the enemy is always the others and the friend is friend, as long as the enemy is common and above all comfortable.
The viruses are the stars and the VIPs, the real famous and the fake ones, the built and maneuvered leaders, the admired and the followed creatures, who despite not really exist in the life of the beholder, invade our eyes and our minds with their effigy, made sacred by virtual adoration, tarped with a skilled and surgical hand. They are not restraining our imagination and ambition towards a real model.
They are deleting them completely.
This is how, as subscribers and fans, followers and supporters, friends and members of the same, gigantic group, when the light goes away we feel lonely much more than the day before.
Because at the end of the fair, we are the viruses.
Just as the encyclopedia explains at the beginning of the story, we contaminate each other, trying desperately to make copies of ourselves in the lives of others, making them not different from what we expect.
We are the hackers, because each one of us is writing this crazy script, and taking advantage of the fragility of the world that fortunately remained outside the building, we slow down every day more our path to progress that in the gone days the misunderstood science fiction writers have dreamed for us…

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