I wonder how today's PC desktop metaphor would differ if we used archaic and overdramatic terms for it. Like, instead of "desktop", it's "plinth"; all applications are referenced as on-screen "eikons", a window is a "dais", and opening and closing is "sealing" and "unleashing."
"To return to the Plinth, knock twice upon the Crest of Sealing. It is advisable to Weave your work to a Data Tapestry beforehand. Please consult 'Read Me.glyph' for more information."
"There is not enough thread on Data Tapestry 4 to Weave your changes. Please unfurl a Data Tapestry with at least 0.3 cubits free, and knock upon the Sigil of Confirmation to continue."
Data tapestries were considered to be more portable and flexible to use than the previously used Glyphic Wall format, but the logistics of installing a Loom Drive and constant purchases of thread refills resulted in them tending to be just as expensive, on top of still being a write once, read many medium. It would be a couple of eras before Flash Stones came to prominence.
"If knocking upon the Crests has no effect, ensure that your Trackboulder is properly fettered to its moor, and that you have a strong connection to your Deity Service Provider. If the problem persists, hail us by blowing C-F-D#-G-F#-Db-C on your courtesy conch."
This has quickly devolved from linguistic skeumorphism into me just imagining "what if ancient history but also computers."
"O Mighty Lord of Technical Support, who doth sooth the wrathful spirits within the thinking stones, please assist me in fettering my input chisel to my Plinth-top, for it doth not respond."
"Hast thou tried renouncing and redeclaring thy faith from the Implements Dais? That worketh for 90 percent of input calamities."
"I cannot find the Avatar!"
"It might have gone off the edge of the Slate. Try rolling the Trackboulder towards the northwest, then your avatar should be visible."
"Nay, it disobeys me, the Avatar eludes me!"
"Hast thou fettered the Trackboulder securely to its mooring post?"
"... Tarry a moment."
"I was writing a letter to the Romans, and my Plinth has lost its faith in my Deity Service Provider before I could Weave it. Can you connect me with the Systems Priest?"
"The Systems Priest has journeyed to the mountain top to receive a new Epistle. It should be finished enscribing in 40 days and 40 nights."
"Blasted Epistle updates, they always happen at the worst time!"
"Perhaps we should consider swearing fealty to another operating pantheon?"
"I'll not hear such heresy! Besides, no other pantheon will play my favorite Mancala game."
"M'lord, have you considered compiling our own operating pantheon from the source texts?"
"That will never catch on and you know it."
"This is the New Covenant; it containeth many new features."
"Doth it still act upon mine Old Covenant rituals?"
"Nay, thou shalt develop new rituals."
"Mayhaps the New Covenant can play Doom?"
"Nay, Doom is a legacy ritual and is no longer supported."
Forty days and forty nights hence (it felt like longer at the time), a new Epistle Update is finally delivered from the mountain top by the Systems Priest. The followers are astonished by its new doctrine, as it is unclear how compatible it is with their ancestral plinths, or whether they must carve new Plinths from more expensive stone. The discussion Book is finally Sealed after 174 Stanzas of debate.
Some centuries down the line, when the source cuneiform is rediscovered in a cave by the Dead Sea, data archaeologists learn to recompile them to run upon their next generation eSlates (which are actually largely made of papyrus, but ye olde skeumorphism reigns true).
Somebody does have to figure out how to fetter their ancient Loom Drive to one first.
After much searching, and some careful reconstruction between multiple copies of the relevant data tapestries (the damn moths, they eat through anything), a Data Tapestry is finally successfully Observed by a man with a third gen eSlate, through a chain of translation fetters.
It takes two years of labor, but after reinscribing the renderer cuneiform for a modern slate, and chiseling a new parable driver from scratch, Doom finally runneth upon the New Covenant. And the Multitudes are astonished. Multitude support, incidentally, was something chronicled in the Olde Texts before, but was initially limited to 12 Followers for technical reasons. Several implementations for larger scale Throngs would later be inscribed, but not everybody could agree on which was the best.
One such implementation would incite the wrath of the Masses, however, for disobeying the 7th of the Ten General Public Commandments upon which the cuneiforms were released: "Thou Shalt Also Release Thine Source Upon These Selfsame Terms."
The scribes of this implementation would claim that their translation was not based upon these cuneiforms, but upon an earlier one, passed down between High Priests for several centuries, and was thus not beholden to these Commandments.
They still would not release any notable updates.
