The catalogue of things you pressed, typed, dialled and dragged. Ten machines from 1967 to 2000. Every one of them switches on.
A–J · by catalogue letter · all on demo
80 columns, 25 rows and a blinking cursor. No mouse.
One-bit screen, pull-down menus and a trash can that bulges.
Twelve keys, a green-lit screen, 160 characters and a worm.
Clip it to your belt. It beeps; you find a payphone.
It types the computer's answers on a roll of paper, ten letters a second.
Dial a bulletin board, one caller at a time, at 1200 bits a second.
Hundreds of pages of text hidden inside the TV picture.
A diary, an address book and a notepad you write on with a plastic pen.
A blinking number tells you who called while you were out.
Grey pages, blue links and a picture that loads line by line.
Years are when a machine like this was typical in shops and offices, not when the idea was invented.