Alumatech History
Here is some usage of my new word ‘Alumatech’ which I suggest as a Proper Noun for those computer users (phones, tablets, laptops, desktops, servers), employees, home users, businessmen, Doctors, DeviantArt users etc who have recieved education and help in using their devices or apps. I have contacted noted historian David Starkey about the usage of this new word and am waiting on a reply. If you are a noted user i.e. Deviant and have any suggestions for usage (serious or humorous) please post them in the comments below.
Thanks
I would also be interested in hearing from any computer professional who might find usage for this word in a professional setting. Also academics. And if you feel that you are a ‘user’ and have been treated unfairly and perhaps a Proper Noun could have helped your argument with tech support please feel free to use the word ‘Alumatech’ in your conversations.
If there is any academic interest in the word please contact me (via notes) or help AT generalsupermarkets.store if you wish to use it and send me your completed work.
Also see: english.stackexchange.com/ques… and 
Examples of Usage
The Rise and Fall Of The Alumatech Empire by Andrew Watkins
‘Gimme that, Alumatech,’
‘Please see the Alumatech at desk 110,’
‘The Alumatech have run riot again,’
OR
‘A trove of Alumatech’
‘An elegance of Alumatech’
‘A delight of Alumatech’
OR
‘Alumatech? I can’t even say it!’
‘I like the way it reminds me of Alumnus,’
‘ With Alumatech you can assume we already know it!’
‘There could AlumaDoc for Word Users, AlumaXLS for Excel, AlumaPDF…all different file types and categories.’
‘”Alumatech!”, “Alumnus!”
‘It’s no good…what if they can’t understand Alumatech?’
‘Who’d want to be known as a tech?’
‘Sounds like a password to a secret society,’
‘There haven’t been many words that have changed the world,’
‘That means he’s profiting from our mistakes,’
‘I will name my baby Alumatech,’
etc.
If you are interested in supporting the development of this new word and want some inside information on its spread then visit my https://www.patreon.com/Alumatech and SUBSCRIBE or the free main Alumatech page at DeviantArt https://www.deviantart.com/ewinemixxnke/art/Alumatech-History-972878288
There you can add comments and read more about the Alumatech Phenonemon.
Are you Alumatech?
Nom Qui Dorma Est
The droid took two steps forward, halted, and then resumed its wobbly path to a distant nebula. Its mother stood by smiling while its father grinned and beckoned it towards him. Neither of them saw the spaceship or its crew reach and grab the child. To them, he just simply vanished into the air. One second he was there as tangible as a bag of crisps and the next, well he was gone, striders and all
His Writers Voice – Chapter One
He gained more than he lost. The weight that is. It simply piled on. In some strange universe, he was Slim, in another sexy but here on earth he was simply ‘him’. What was lost he wondered as he strolled down the lane towards the store for more food. What has left anyway? His mother was in tatters or ‘taters’ and his father was aground somewhere. He had no children of his own, forsaken ‘for heavens sakes’ no girlfriend to mention.
He pushed open the doors to the salon moving inside with a peculiar grace becoming that of elephants moving through a forest. He walked up to the bar and asked for a pint of bitter shandy and two bags of cheese and onion crisps. His bristly chine masticated the words out like a farmer digging troughs of the clods of earth that clung to his chin whilst bathing in a cesspool of manure and cottage cheese. The barman smiled, gave him his change and presented him with his pint and bags of crisps. More ‘taters’.
He went to sit down and pulled out the chair sending up a cloud of dust, hair, dander, tobacco leaves and god knows what else from the supposedly vacuumed red carpet. He examined the trail of upended carpet tufts he had left in this momentary journey, grunted as if to say ‘they don’t know what it’s really like’ placed his pint dripping it onto the table and dropped his bag of crisps. In weighing down the burden of his back to pick up the lost comestibles his eyes were drawn again to the carpet. It was richer than his own. The red tufts with their golden embroidery must have cost a ton. The spices of customers past brought to mind an Asian woman he saw seated here not so long ago. His comestibles confused the vernacular of his reach until on the third attempt the swing of his arm let his hand grab the crisps off the floor and his back could resume its upward erect trajectory as if he had rescued a peeled prawn from the carpet of his own mansion.
As if some peculiar wisdom was at hand he open bother of the crisps and piled them onto the dirty table. In front of him lay taters of taters. His pint was brooding a few inched away and he wondered. How best to achieve delight. He grabbed his pint with one hand and grabbed a handful of crisps with the other. Should he cram the crisps into his mouth, crunch them up and let the smooth taste of the bitter wash them down or rather savour the aftertaste of a swig of beer along with the chemically blended aroma of cheese and onion? He decided on the latter choice and washed down his drink with some cheese and onion crisps. Life was for living.
He grabbed his waste from the table and his 3:00pm doctor’s appointment loomed into view. All in all, he had timed it well. His doctor was only a short walk away or he could grab the bus every eight minutes these days. The event was over and with the bags in his hand, he went in search of a bin only to be met by the smiling barman again. ‘I couldn’t do that,’ said the barman, his grinning teeth-er perfect white against the backdrop of a slightly sallow complexion challenging the customer to an answer suitable. He burped loudly and farted in his direction depositing the empties onto his tray while whispering a thank you to the placid barman.
Crashing outside like some leprous rhinoceros onto the bare street with its crisp packed litter was enough to drown him in some internal agony. He felt the civilisation leave his musky aroma behind and instead munch its way through life with forethought or attention. Reaching into his pocket for the day saver he had bought earlier in the day he was reminded of Napoleon reattaching for a note for Matilda No Josephine. He proceeded to the bus stop and walked to the front of the queue he imagined there. He was the first. Better not make any mistakes on this journey. No clubs and wants he thought bitterly. It 2:50. and the bus was eight minutes away.
He Can
Danseuse
Craving a D.Lit!
Waltzing through air, this vision with beguiling delicate grace
Like a danseuse figure, poised, carving delicate grace.
A breeze gently embraces this fragile creature
touching nimble limbs, a limber accentuating delicate grace.
Sunlight streams iridescent on her lissome stance
symmetrically lithe and supple, flaunting delicate grace.
Rhythmic movements pattern fawn colored sand creations
nudging grass beneath, with a soothing delicate grace.
The boundless energy of this dainty, flighty antelope
as she ambulates gracefully, epitomizing, delicate grace.
Elusive, mysterious, uninhibited, she basks in nature’s fold
within a cosmos, spangled with, pleasing, delicate grace.
Her vulnerability fills me with foreboding and much fear
of bloodthirsty predators, massacring delicate grace.
Taxi-Driver
Bloody Weapon
Created for a badge (whoop!) on DA.
Cross Customer Service
How’s your cross? Did you make it 4 miles today in excruciating pain? Does it still hurt your back? Is it the standard size? Well, It’s sitting back and waiting for the crucifixion. Don’t worry it will all be over soon. Does customer satisfaction do your head in or what?
You could…
Piercing Ice Art
After a long conversation with my dad…I fell asleep! This is what I did when I awoke
I'm bilaterally deaf, schizophrenic, autistic, talented individual. I can see you thinking...What was his day job? Well, I am a qualified systems engineer and i worked in computers. To be honest I can't remember what I wrote in my bio which I deleted. I write I draw, It is my goal in life to be anything but facsimilia. I believe life is duodecimal, you live you die, dark. Some call this depression and indeed I am a depressive schizophrenic. To be something is a great thing-some call it drosophilae syndrome(to be studied), a term I coined myself. As I appreciate in words as I get older sometimes it helps to remember what it was like being a child with drosophilae syndrome where the other is to be seen. This is why I draw and write. 