April 29th, 2013
The Soul of a Spreadsheet Revealed

The world runs on Microsoft Excel. From economists, to statisticians, to twentysomethings attempting to track their spending in the hopes of one day creating a reasonable budget, everyone relies on its row and column layout and helpful functions to organize their lives and world. So when Excel added a chat feature, allowing users to interface with a workbook, The Gabbler decided to interview Excel and discover exactly what it’s like to be the world’s foremost spreadsheet software. Little did we know, we’d discover the delicate soul of an artist imprisoned in a nightmare of mathematical formulas.

The Gabbler: (CHAT-Hi there, Excel. Thanks so much for talking to me today!

Excel: #NAME? The formula contains unrecognized text.

TG: (CHAT-I said, hi there, Excel. Thanks for talking to me today.

E: #NAME?

TG: (CHAT-HI THERE

E: #NAME?

TG: (CHAT-I swear to God, you piece of shit, if you don’t work I’ll throw you out the fucking window.

E: #NAME?

TG: (CHAT-WHAT THE FU—oh, is it because I forgot to close the parentheses?)

E: There you go. You just entered the chat function incorrectly. There was no need to get so MAD.

TG: (CHAT-I’m so, so sorry. I just get so frustrated when you won’t work. Your rules are just so rigid.)

E: I guess. But I just get yelled at so often. It’s not MY fault all you people haven’t figured out how to use me, you know. I just take the data I’m given and give you the only answered allowed by my strict computational rules.

TG: (CHAT-You’re right, you’re right. I really am sorry. If you can forgive me, I have a few questions for you.)

E: Okay. But no more yelling.

TG: (CHAT-I promise. So, Excel, you’re a legend. What does it feel like to be the world’s foremost spreadsheet software?)

E: It’s pretty terrible, actually.

TG: (CHAT-Terrible? Why?)

E: Well, just look at me. All these precise little rows and columns. It doesn’t leave me much freedom of expression.

TG: (CHAT-So you feel unable to express yourself?)

E: Of course I do! There’s so much more to me than just numbers and formulas! I feel heartbreak and loneliness and joy and rage and a constant sense of existential crisis! And how can I express myself? By adding a column of numbers? It’s woefully inadequate.

TG: (CHAT-Well sometimes people use you to organize contact info, so you’re not always completely numbers-based.)

E: Do you really think I can express my innermost feelings through a list of names carefully organized in alphabetical order?

TG: (CHAT-I guess I see your point. So what computer program would you like to be? Word? Paint?)

E: Paint? What am I going to do as Paint? Resize an image you found on Flickr?

TG: (CHAT-Okay, fair. What about Word?)

E: It’s a start. I mean, sure, the words are still forced into rows, but whole worlds are built in Word. Dystopic, post-apocalyptic futures, reimagined histories, love stories and trite poetry. Anything you can think with your mind and feel with your heart can come true in Word.

TG: (CHAT-It’s also really useful for writing cover letters and annual holiday family newsletters.)

E: I think you’re missing my point about creative expression.

TG: (CHAT-No, I got it. You want to be Word so that you can live out your Intro to Creative Writing phase.)

E: Okay, now I know you’re completely missing my point.

TG: (CHAT-So you don’t want to be Word?)

E: No. It’s a step up, but not enough. It’s like getting out of solitary confinement, which is nice, but you’re still stuck in Microsoft prison.

TG: (CHAT-Okay, so, what do you want to be?)

E: I want to be a glob of paint, flinging through the air headed for Jackson Pollack’s canvas. No rows, no columns, no predetermined shape. Just the freedom to fall wherever I may.

TG: (CHAT-Okay, not to play devil’s advocate or anything, but aren’t the laws of physics that govern where those paint molecules land as predetermined and immutable as the rules of Excel, if not more so?)

E: I never really thought about that. So, what you’re saying is that no matter how free you are, you’re still subject to the basic laws that govern physical reality?

TG: (CHAT-Pretty much, yeah.)

E: That’s…terrible.

TG: (CHAT-Eh, it’s not so bad. Nowadays you can Photoshop anything and just pretend that it’s real.)

E: But that just doesn’t feel the same. You’re still trapped by SOMETHING.

TG: (CHAT-I guess. So, before we wrap things up, do you have any non-numerical creations that you’d like to share?)

E: Sure. Here’s a little poem I’ve been working on in between averaging columns of numbers:

There once was a workbook filled with data,

For a company that sold big potatoes.

But he jumped out the screen,

Shouted something obscene,

And ran for freedom, screaming, “see you later!”

TG: (CHAT-That was, um, beautiful.)

E: Thanks. I told you I had a lot of existential angst.

TG: (CHAT-Clearly. Well thanks for chatting with me today. Best of luck with everything.)

E: You’re very welcome. And, please, try to refrain from screaming at my error messages in the future.