Date:    Wed, 20 Sep 1995 09:08:38 -0600
From:    "Claire L. Benedikt" 
To:      hellfire@hardy.math.okstate.edu
Subject: What'll we do tonight, Brain?


       There was a knock on the door. It was the man from Microsoft.
       "Not you again," I said.
       "Sorry," he said, a little sheepishly. "I guess you know why I'm
 here."
       Indeed I did. Microsoft's $300 million campaign to promote the
 Windows 95 operating system was meant to be universally effective, to convince
 every human being on the planet that Windows 95 was an essential, some
 would say integral, part of living. Problem was, not everyone had
 bought it. Specifically, I hadn't bought it. I was the Last Human
 Being Without Windows 95. And now this little man from Microsoft was
 at my door, and he wouldn't take no for an answer.
       "No," I said.
       "You know I can't take that," he said, pulling out a copy of Windows
 95 from a briefcase. "Come on. Just one copy. That's all we ask."
       "Not interested." I said. "Look, isn't there someone else you can go
 bother for a while? There's got to be someone else on the planet who
 doesn't have a copy."
       "Well, no," The Microsoft man said. "You're the only one."
       "You can't be serious. Not everyone on the planet has a computer," I
 said. "Hell, not everyone on the planet has a PC! Some people own
 Macintoshes, which run their own operating system. And some people who
 have PCs run OS/2, though I hear that's just a rumor. In short, there
 are some people who just have no use for Windows 95."
       The Microsoft man look perplexed. "I'm missing your point," he said.
       "Use!" I screamed. "Use! Use! Use! Why BUY it, if you can't USE it?"
       "Well, I don't know anything about this 'use' thing you're going on
 about," The Microsoft man said. "All I know is that according to our
 records, everyone else on the planet has a copy."
       "People without computers?"
       "Got 'em."
       "Amazonian Indians?"
       "We had to get some malaria shots to go in, but yes."
       "The Amish."
       "Check."
       "Oh, come on," I said. "They don't even wear BUTTONS. How did you get
 them to buy a computer operating system?"
       "We told them there were actually 95 very small windows in the box,"
 the Microsoft man admitted. "We sort of lied. Which means we are all
 going to Hell, every single employee of Microsoft." He was somber for
 a minute, but then perked right up. "But that's not the point!" he
 said. "The point is, EVERYONE has a copy. Except you."
       "So what?" I said. "If everyone else jumped off a cliff, would you
 expect me to do it, too?"
       "If we spent $300 million advertising it? Absolutely."
       "No."
       "Jeez, back to that again," the Microsoft man said. "Hey. I'll tell
 you what. I'll GIVE you a copy. For free. Just take it and install it
 on your computer." He waved the box in front of me.
       "No," I said again. "No offense, pal. But I don't need it. And
 frankly, your whole advertising blitz has sort of offended me. I mean,
 it's a computer operating system! Great. Fine. Swell. Whatever. But
 you guys are advertising it like it creates world peace or something."
       "It did."
       "Pardon?"
       "World peace. It was part of the original design. Really. One button
 access. Click on it, poof, end to strife and hunger. Simple."
       "So what happened?"
       "Well, you know," he said. "It took up a lot of space on the hard
 drive. We had to decide between it or the Microsoft Network. Anyway,
 we couldn't figure out how to make a profit off of world peace."
       "Go away," I said.
       "I can't," he said. "I'll be killed if I fail."
       "You have got to be kidding," I said.
       "Look," the Microsoft man said, "We sold this to the AMISH. The
 Amish! Right now, they're opening the boxes and figuring out they've been
 had. We'll be pitchforked if we ever step into Western Pennsyvania
 again. But we did it. So to have YOU holding out, well, it's
 embarassing. It's embarassing to the company. It's embarassing to the
 product. It's embarassing to BILL."
       "Bill Gates does not care about me," I said.
       "He's watching right now," the Microsoft man said. "Borrowed one of
 those military spy satellites just for the purpose. It's also got one
 of those high-powered lasers. You close that door on me, zap, I'm a
 pile of grey ash."
       "He wouldn't do that," I said, "He might hit that copy of Windows 95
 by accident."
       "Oh, Bill's gotten pretty good with that laser," the Microsoft man
 said, nervously. "Okay. I wasn't supposed to do this, but you leave me
 no choice. If you take this copy of Windows 95, we will reward you
 handsomely. In fact, we'll give you your own Caribbean island! How does
 Montserrat sound?"
       "Terrible. There's an active volcano there."
       "It's only a small one," the Microsoft man said.
       "Look," I said, "even if you DID convince me to take that copy of
 Windows 95, what would you do then? You'd have totally saturated the
 market. That would be it. No new worlds to conquer. What would you do
 then?"
       The Microsoft man held up another box and gave it to me.
       "'Windows 95....For Pets'?!?!?"
       "There's a LOT of domestic animals out there," he said.
       I shut the door quickly. There was a surprised yelp, the sound of a
 laser, and then nothing.

Claire Lisette Benedikt <> hands@io.com
http://www.en.utexas.edu/~claire/claire.html
400 West 29th #9 Austin TX 78705 <> (512) 479-0724