I am somewhat suspicious of this. I used to do some fairly basic things to the computer and receive endless complaints about it from my parents. For instance, my mom happened to use a Mac when she went to college, and so became convinced that icons on the desktop wasted memory. I knew that in, at least, older version of the Mac OS icons represented actual running programs, in contrast to Windows, where they're just shortcuts to launch the program. I tried to explain this to her, but she didn't understand, and, furthermore, my dad overheard and angrily berated me for arguing with my mom. So, for several years afterward, the desktop was consistently scrubbed of icons.
It's amazing the kinds of computer superstitions that the tech illiterate develop. They develop magical thinking about something they believe is "slowing down the computer", for instance, having a CD in CD-Rom drive, and will hold to this despite there being no plausible explanation for this belief and without having even done a simple benchmark to test their superstition. But, again, you will be endlessly berated for failing to believe them, and for not performing this ritual they've developed.
My dad comes to me every few months with a new virus on his computer, viruses I probably wouldn't have suspected he got from a porn site had he not wasted an hour of my time volunteering, without any prompting or accusation on my part, some new, elaborate defense explaining how he had gotten it in some perfectly innocent way ("I just clicked on Kermit the Frog!" x 1000), and furthermore, I wouldn't even care. Anyway, he's utterly convinced that viruses magically jump onto any portable storage medium that's attached to a computer, and self-executes on any other computer the storage device is attached to, apparently without even bothering to give me a UAC notice (I suppose it really just couldn't be that innocent little porn.mov.exe you clicked on). So, I have to fiddle around uselessly until he walks off and I can actually bring over some really anti-virus tools on my jump drive.
In short, I hate you, and despise your ilk.