Descent into Microsoft (Part 3)

Fake News written by Jon Splatz on February 25, 1999

10 PRINT "HELLO WORLD"
20 GOTO 40
30 GOTO 10
40 GOTO 30

I feel like I'm stuck in a hideous GW-BASIC program written by some snot-nosed eight year old. I can't get anywhere, I'm surrounded by GOTOs. I'm trapped in an infinite loop, unable to free myself from the savage nature of Murphy's Law. Will I ever finish my odyssey to obtain a Windows refund? I'm beginning to have my doubts.

In Part 2, I described my plans to attend the Windows Refund Day rally at the Microsoft offices in Foster City, CA. I thought (erroneously) that this would be the moment of triumph; I would obtain my Windows refund once and for all.

I should have known better. When Microsoft is involved, things never work out right.

My adventures began on Sunday, when I checked into the "El Raton Grande" motel, a few miles away from the Microsoft offices. I don't speak much Spanish, but I do know that "grande" means "big". Indeed, this motel was a big ripoff. The water was opaque with mud, the mattress felt like it had been produced in 1950, and the ceiling light flashed off and on every few minutes in a strangely hypnotic pattern.

I had trouble sleeping that night. A buzzing and flickering neon sign outside my window prevented me from falling asleep. Frustrated, I shut the drapes over the window. I discovered that some of the ink on the drapes had rubbed off onto my hands. I tried to wash my hands, but the muddy water from the faucet only made my hands dirtier.

The room only had one small towel in it, which had the words "Property of Holiday Inn" written on it in big letters. After some effort, I was able to clean off most of the muck from my hands.

I knew that I wasn't going to be taking a shower or brushing my teeth in the morning.

I suppose I can't complain too much, however, since Humorix was paying the expenses for my trip. I just wish James Baughn wasn't so stingy.

[Editor's Note: Most Humorix field reporters are only given a bus ticket and a trash bag to use as a tent. Splatz should consider himself lucky.]

The next day, Monday, was the First Annual Windows Refund Day. Since no refunds were distributed, next year will likely contain a Second Annual Windows Refund Day.

Wanting to vacate the motel as soon as possible, I frantically dressed and packed up my baggage. The fact that I saw several large rats behind my bed contributed to my haste.

I drove over to the Foster City Microsoft office compound, stopping at a city park along the way to wash off my hands at a fountain.

When I arrived, I spotted a crowd of anxious news reporters and TV crews -- but no refund-demanding Linux geeks. I didn't see any Unix zealots waving "I'm Pro-Choice!" or "Linux Rules!" signs.

After spotting me, the herd of reporters pushed and shoved towards me, screaming questions and flashing pictures. Instead of asking me about the Refund Day, they bombarded me with computer questions, hoping to get free technical support from a geek.

"My palm pilot just crashed... Can you help me?" one insisted. "At home, my computer makes this whirring sound and the hard drive-thingy goes chooka, chooka, chooka... Do you think this is bad?" another asked. "How should I prepare for Y2K?" a TV correspondent asked.

Finally, a few members of the media asked more relevant questions.

"I've heard a lot about 'open source software'... How is opening a source different than opening a window?" Before I could get a word in edgewise, yet another reporter posed, "Who is this Colonel Linux I've heard so much about, and what military branch does he serve in? Is he responsible for organizing the refund campaign? Is the Linux operation system named after this colonel? One more thing... you can run Microsoft Windows in Linux, right? What about Office?"

I was getting quite frustrated, and wanted badly to yell "Shut the HELL up!" I kept my cool, though. I, Jon Splatz, the enlightened Humorix pundit and social commentator, was surrounded by a mob of clueless, vapid members of the media. It was my duty, I told myself, to educate these people. Getting angry wasn't going to help, I had to calmly explain what the Windows Refund campaign was all about.

Before the next inane question could be posed, I quickly began my spiel. "You probably all have lots of questions about this event and why you're here. Let me try to explain. Several thousand people worldwide are fed up with the lack of quality and freedom of Microsoft software. A group of programmers have created their own alternative software -- based on 'Open Source'. The details are hard to explain, but this group values free beer, free peanuts, and free speech. In particular, free speech is essential because, since most nerds are socially inept, they need spokesman to communicate to the rest of society for them. Free speech is thus very important, but it is something not offered by Microsoft..."

I continued my speech, trying to educate the crowd of ignorant reporters. I thought it was quite a nice impromptu speech. I was able to succintly cover the differences between Cathedral and Flea Market design methodologies, the history of the GUN Project and Richard M. Stallman, and the fact that boxes of Red Hat Linux are available for free at many computer stores.

Unfortunately, all the journalists lost interest in my speech after a couple minutes, and they began to chatter among themselves.

"Stupid story assignments," one reporter mumbled to a colleague, "I could be reporting on the swimsuit models photo shoot, but instead I'm here covering some idiotic nerd revolution involving exactly ONE person. I really need to get out of this business..."

I heard one TV cameraman say, "Hey, Bob, did you hear about the latest Internet Explorer collectible CD Microsoft has released? It features Steve Ballmer." Another replied, "That's nothing. I just picked up a limited edition 'Vigilante DoJ Investigation' IE CD-ROM, featuring a "Who Does Janet Reno Want To Sue Today?" soundtrack.

As the news reporters chattered among themselves, I wondered if my trip to Foster City had been a waste. It didn't look like I would be obtaining a Windows refund today. GOTO 40.

However, the situation suddenly reversed itself. The geeks showed up.

Led by Eric "Obi-Wan" Raymond, a shabby group of Linux geeks holding protest signs and wearing jeans and T-shirts marched towards the parking garage. The photagraphers started snapping pictures, and the reporters began to frantically take notes.

"Now there's something you don't see everyday," one reporter boasted to a colleague as he showed a coveted special issue Nathan Myrrhvold Internet Explorer CD. Looking up, he exclaimed, "Whoa! What's with all the commotion? Did I miss something?"

The small group of protestors climbed up to the top of the parking garage. They chanted protest songs, but I couldn't make out any of the words except for an occasional "Linux" or "GNU/Linux". I found out later that Richard Stallman had specially requested that the protestors say "GNU/Linux", but many refused, causing the chant to be uncoordinated. It sounded terrible.

Meanwhile, I heard strange shuffling sounds from behind me. I turned around to face a large staff of Microserfs frantically preparing for the confrontation with the Linux brigade. They had put up a large "Microsoft Welcomes the Linux Zealot Community" banner and erected tables with refreshments and stacks of Microsoft promotional literature.

It appeared that Microsoft had prepared. They were ready for the Windows Refund Day protestors.

And they were ready for me, Jon Splatz. While the reporters were busy reporting, and the refund protestors were busy protesting, a Microsoft employee came up to me and said ominously, "Valued Customer Splatz, please follow me."

Unnoticed by the others, I followed the Microserf into the office compound. In hindsight, it may have been foolish of me to follow blindly. I acted on impulse. Heart racing and face sweating profusely, I entered into the unknown world of Microsoft.

It was then that I had the most disturbing thought of my life. I remembered the dream I had from a few days before, in which two Microsoft goons busted into my apartment and "assimilated" me. Was it really a dream? Was I actually under the control of Microsoft? Was my blind obedience to this Microserf -- who somehow knew my name -- the result of my induction into the Microsoft collective? Was I about to undergo the first session of re-education?

No, it couldn't be. If I was truly under the spell of Microsoft, I wouldn't be having these thoughts. I wouldn't be aware of my assimilation. It must have been a dream. I was Jon Splatz, Humorix pundit and social commentator, not Thirteen-of-Zero, Microsoft Borg drone.

Or was I? My mind was in a state of disarray. My mind had bluescreened.

I followed the Microserf through a maze of hallways, and into a stairwell at the far back of the building. I became winded after we climbed to about the fifth floor. "We must continue climbing," the Microserf said monotonously. He added, "The elevator isn't working. It won't go to the top floor. Rest assured, Microsoft support teams are working on the problem and should have a fix within the next week."

Once we reached the top of the stairs, he led me through another series of hallways, until we came to an office. Another Microsoft employee was sitting behind a desk, waiting for my arrival. "Please sit down, Valued Customer Splatz," he prompted. "Good work, Jay. You can go," he said to the first Microserf.

I sat down and looked around the Microserf's office nervously. Was that a copy of Red Hat Linux tucked away in the corner? It couldn't be.

He then handed me a business card. It had a picture of the Earth with a penguin sitting contentedly on top. "WORLD," it said. "WORLD Organizes Rapid Linux Domination."

"What the h...?" I tried to exclaim, before the Microserf interrupted me with "Linux is futile!" and motioned me to be quiet. He then took the business card from my hands and scribbled a brief note on it, "This room is bugged by Microsoft drones... don't say anything suspicious... PLAY ALONG... it's vitally important!!!"

My mind had bluescreened again. What was happening? I felt like I was trapped in some cliche spy movie. I never liked movies about espionage, not only could I never keep track of the characters and the plots, but they never seemed realistic.

And yet, in a small Microsoft office in Foster City, California, I had stumbled on to some kind of spy ring involving Linux. Was I closer to my goal of obtaining a Windows refund?

"Unfortunately, Customer Splatz," he began, "we can't give you a Windows refund. You'll have to take this up with the Customer Financial Affairs Department in Redmond."

Apparently not. My quest would continue, I was still trapped in the infinite loop. GOTO 30.

Unless, I thought, this was all a ruse, something to placate the faceless Microserfs listening in on this office.

"Do you think the Customer Affairs department would give me a refund?" I asked, playing along.

"Probably not. Still, you might be able to find out some important information at their website. Here, let me write down the address for you..."

He wrote down the address on a Microsoft business card, which he then handed to me. The address he wrote certainly wasn't for a Microsoft department -- it was a numeric IP address, followed by several levels of directories. Underneath he scribbled what looked like a username and password.

"Sorry that I can't assist you further, Customer Splatz. I have to be downstairs in ten minutes to hand out 'Dear Valued Customer' letters to the group of Valued Customers who are, ah, expressing themselves outside. I trust you can find your way back out, right? Or should I call Jay to escort you?"

"Uh, I'll find my way out..." I responded, still bewildered by the situation.

"Oh, one last thing. Company policy dictates that we make sure that all our Valued Customers have the latest collectible Internet Explorer CD." He unlocked his desk drawer and pulled out two CD-ROMs, which he quickly handed to me. "Please take them," he said, before ushering me out of his office.

My first meeting with a real life Microserf was over. I still didn't have my refund, but I had picked up some clues: two CDs and a mysterious website address. I was still in the endless loop, but I had encountered an undocumented instruction that might help me.

My mind busy pondering the events that had just transpired, I quickly became lost in the Microsoft office complex. I asked a passing employee where I was. Without stopping, he said, "You are in a hallway," and then he scurried off.

"You are in a hallway" sounded a lot like my present situation. I could see the immediate surroundings, but I didn't know what was ahead of me. I didn't know where this hallway would lead me. I didn't know if I would obtain my Windows refund, nor did I know what events awaited me in the future. I didn't know what was contained on the two CDs or the website address the Microserf handed me. I was clueless, trapped in a Microsoft office complex and trapped in an endeavor that may never come to fruition.

GOTO 10, I thought.

It took me about 30 minutes, but I finally found the stairwell leading to the exit. Unfortunately, by the time I made it back outside and over to the parking garage, the refund protestors and the news reporters had all disbanded and left. The First Annual Windows Refund Day was over.

Driving home, I began to think about my adventure so far. I never realized that my Windows refund odyssey would be such a hassle. I wondered if climbers about to ascend Mt. Everest truly realize just how far it is to the summit. I certainly underestimated the amount of effort it would require to obtain a Windows refund.

With all the hardship, though, my story was making an excellent series of articles for Humorix.

And then it hit me.

When my odyssey was finally over, I would have enough material for a book. A list of possible book titles raced through my mind. "Battling Redmond: The Jon Splatz Adventure". "I Don't Pay Bills". "Shutting Windows and Closing Gates". "Into Thinning Hair: The Undocumented Story of One Man's Triumph Over Microsoft".

I could then run excerpts of my books on Humorix, along with a link to Amazon where visitors could instantly buy the book. I would thumb my nose at the publishing establishment. My book would become a success through grass-roots support from the geek community!

I would make publishing history!

But first, I thought, I have to obtain my Windows refund. I had to make it to the top of Mt. Everest before I could write a book about the climb. I had to exit the infinite loop before I could move on.

Get ready, Microsoft, Jon Splatz is coming.

Dear Valued Customer

Fake News written by James Baughn on February 17, 1999

Attached below is a letter forwarded to us by an anonymous Microsoft employee who mistakenly purchased a computer with Red Hat Linux pre-installed. Last Monday, he and a group of drunken friends protested in front of the manufacturer's offices in Ypsilanti, MI, demanding that the company provide a refund for the unwanted OS. Their efforts, while successful, attracted only minor media coverage (entries for "disturbing the peace" and "vandalism" in the daily police report of the Ypsilanti Ypquirer).

Linguin Computers, Inc.
849 Power Lane, Suite 256
Ypsilanti, MI

Mark Bradley
Vice President, Linguin Computers, Inc.

Descent into Microsoft (Part 2)

Fake News written by Jon Splatz on February 12, 1999

I had made it to the base camp for my arduous climb to the summit of Mt. Everest. I held in my two hands the Windows 98 CD-ROM, installation manual, Certificate of Authenticity, and End User License Agreement. Now all I had to do was give these items back to Microsoft, and receive my contractually obligated Windows refund. Simple, right?

I don't think so.

Obtaining a Windows refund has nothing to do with software or greedy license agreements. It's a test of the human spirit. In this installment of Descent into Microsoft, I describe how my Windows Refund adventure brought me face-to-face with the Microsoft Mafia and a leaked internal Microsoft memo untouched by Eric S. Raymond.

After all the excitement I described in Part One, I was quite sleepy. I wanted to watch the ten o'clock news, which, according to the promos, was going to show an investigative report on a scam being conducted by a local computer store. I fell asleep, however, much sooner, during the FOX show "When Beagles Attack III".

I was startled awake by loud banging on my apartment door. Groggily, I put on my robe and opened the door, nearly tripping over the stack of Microsoft promotional literature I had left on the floor after unpacking my new computer. Suddenly, two goons in suits rushed into my apartment and pinned me against my couch.

"We know that you are planning to obtain a Windows refund," one goon said menacingly.
"Uh... wha... how do you know...?" I stuttered, now wide awake.
"Bill's not happy," the second goon stated.
"Uh..."
"When Bill's not happy, we're not happy. We need to, ah, rectify this little situation. Resistance, of course, is fut..."
"But... but..."

One goon reached into his pocket and produced a bug-like metal creature, which he flicked at my head. Before I was able to react, the bug attached itself to the base of my skull. Horrified, I watched as the Windows 98 splash screen and Microsoft logo flashed before my eyes. By the time I heard the annoying chime of the Windows boot procedure, I had lost all volition. I had been assimilated.

My voice, now under complete control of the Microsoft Borg, chanted monotonously, "I hereby accept the Microsoft Windows 98 (registered trademark) End-User License Agreement. I will not attempt to return my copy of Windows 98, nor will I invalidate the warranty on my CompUSSR computer by installing Linux on it." I involuntarily spat while uttering "Linux". "All hail Microsoft President William H. Gates III," my voice added.

Now that I had been re-programmed, I no longer cared about obtaining a refund. Or installing Linux. Or working for a Linux humor publication. Or climbing Mt. Everest. I was content with the colorful icons and Dancing Paper Clips in my head. An endless game of Solitaire started to unfold before my eyes. I was happy.

Then, one of the nice Microsoft employees said, "Alright, Mr. Splatz, our work here is complete..." The other employee interrupted. "I'm receiving a transmission from HQ... Cairo Team, report to Albuquerque immediately, code 45 in progress..." The first responded, "Mongo, let's roll. Yet another foolish Linux longhair is deleting Windows 98 from his new computer..."

As the Microsoft visitors were leaving, the words "SOLITAIRE has performed an illegal operation and will be shut down" passed before my eyes. I began to lose to consciousness...

Suddenly, I awoke to the sound of squealing tires, my heart beating faster than it has ever had in my life. It was all a terrible dream. I hadn't been confronted by the Microsoft Mafia. I hadn't been assimilated. I was still Jon Splatz, future Linux user and Windows-free pundit and social commentator. I fell back asleep, now more resolved than ever to break the shackles binding me to Microsoft.

After waking up and finishing my normal morning routine, I sat down to collect myself and make plans. I needed to: (a) contact CompUSSR about my Windows refund, (b) acquire, install, and learn how to use Linux, and, eventually, (c) find a job as a pundit for a publication that actually pays a salary (unlike Humorix).

I decided against visiting CompUSSR in person. My previous experiences had been less than pleasant; I figured I could avoid the trouble of dealing with Mikhail and Yuri if I called CompUSSR headquarters in Moscow, Idaho directly.

"Welcome to the CompUSSR Customer Service Hotline. Please select your preferred language. For Russian, press 1. For German, press 2. For Czech, press 3..." After a dizzying list of world languages, the automated voice finally made it to English. "For English, New England dialect, press 56. For English, Southern dialect, press 57. For English, African-American dialect, press 58. For English, Elbonian-American dialect, press 59." Frustrated, I finally dialed 68 for "English, generic dialect".

The automated phone system continued. "To better service your call, please select which operating system you presently have installed on your CompUSSR computer. For stock Windows 95, press 1. For Windows 95 OSR2, press 2. For Windows 95 OSR2 plus Internet Explorer 4.0, press 3. For Windows NT 3.51 or lower, press 4. For Windows 3.1 with Pen Extensions, press 5..." While the automated system listed every operating system ever produced by Microsoft, I made myself a cup of coffee. Eventually, the machine at the other end of the line said, "For Windows 98, press 37."

After about ten minutes of wrangling with the CompUSSR phone system, I finally reached their main menu. "If you wish to access CompUSSR's $35/hour technical support line, press 1. To request a free CompUSSR catalog, press 2..." The automated voice droned on with several dozen options. "...For a complimentary copy of CompUSSR's stock prospectus, press 34. To speak with a live operator, press 35..."

Finally! I dialed 35, and waited. "Sorry, but due to budget constraints, we no longer employ live phone operators. To speak with our experimental artificial intelligence program called Stalin II, press 0, otherwise select an option from the main menu. If you wish to access..."

The phone drone began to repeat the endless list of options. Just about every option imaginable was available by pressing the right numbers, except, of course, information on obtaining a refund. I decided to bite the bullet and try the CompUSSR AI program.

"Welcome to Stalin II, The CompUSSR Cost-Cutting Electronic Phone Operator. How may I help you?"
"I'd like information on obtaining a refund for Windows 98..."
"Official CompUSSR policy prohibits refunds or exchanges of any kind," the AI voice said after a noticeable delay.
"The Windows End User License Agreement states that I may obtain a refund if I do not accept the license."
"Official CompUSSR policy prohibits refunds or exchanges of any kind."
"But I don't accept the license. I'm legally entitled to a refund..."
"Processing..." the voice chimed. "CompUSSR is not responsible for the enforcement of the Microsoft End User License Agreement."
"But who is...?"
"That information is unavailable."
"I want my refund!" I screamed into the receiver.
"Official CompUSSR policy prohibits refunds or exchanges of any kind."
"Can I speak with a live person?"
"That information is unavailable."
"Huh?"
"Your alloted time has expired. Please call again later. Have a nice day."

I was disconnected from the CompUSSR hotline. I had hit a dead end. A huge snow drift prevented me from proceeding higher up the mountain; I had to turn back and find another path to the summit. I thought about calling the local CompUSSR chain, even though I loathed the thought of dealing with Mikhail and his cronies again.

About this time, the phone rang. It was James Baughn, my boss.
"I've got a story assignment for you, Splatz," he started.
"What?" I asked. Pundits aren't supposed to do any field work.
"I want you to attend a Windows Refund rally on Monday."
"What?" I asked again. I didn't know what he was talking about.
"Go to the Microsoft offices in Foster City, California. That's where the main refund rally is supposed to be."
"What?" I was still confused. What rally? What Windows refunds? Did this fit into my present endeavor somehow?
"I'll pay your expenses."
Hot dog! "Okay, I'll do it. Now explain to me what this whole refund rally is about. I haven't heard anything about it.
"You need to read Slashdot more often," Baughn responded, before providing a full explanation.

Why hadn't I heard about the Windows Refund Day earlier? I stopped to consider the irony in my situation. I had started to climb Mt. Everest alone, blissfully unaware that a whole army of climbers were ascending the mountain from the other side. Strength in numbers is important, especially against an opponent like Mt. Everest or Microsoft.

Well, I thought, everything would work out in the end. I had been giving an opportunity to teleport to the other side of the mountain, where I would meet up with the other climbers. From there, reaching the summit would be much simpler. I would drive to Foster City and attend the Windows refund rally with my comrades.

While I was looking over my dog-eared Rand McNally map, trying to locate Foster City, my fax machine began to receive a transmission. It was from one of the anonymous sources I had relied on while working at ColdWired. He apparently hadn't found out I had been fired. His fax contained a leaked internal Microsoft document he had managed to obtain from one of his contacts, who, in turn, had obtained it from a friend who works as a janitor at Microsoft.

This document, which my source had dubbed "The President's Day Document", analyzes the Windows Refund Day from the perspective of a Microsoft junior executive. Top Microsoft executives seemed to be the target audience of the memo.

I wondered if the document had also been leaked to Eric S. Raymond. If it had, it wouldn't be long before it appeared on the Web under the name "Halloween V". Then again, ESR might be too busy playing with the new guns he received for Christmas to worry about yet another leaked memo.

Since this document is quite interesting, and, of course, quite applicable to my endeavor, I've attached a few excerpts below:

"This whole refund brouhaha started after a posting on the 'News for Nerds' Slashdot.org website. From that, a group of anti-Microsoft zealots organized the Windows Refund Day... Since then, the movement has snowballed, gaining mainstream media coverage...

As a last resort, we could have all the protestors arrested for trespassing on Microsoft property. Or, we could argue that the "refund" in the EULA doesn't refer to the software, but to the printing and distribution costs of the license itself (about ten cents). Pieces of paper don't print themselves, you know...

(James Baughn, Humorix editor, didn't want me to publish these excerpts, arguing that a reputable publication like Humorix doesn't print unsubstantiated rumors and leaked documents. After breaking into a fit of hysterics, I calmly pointed out that just about every Humorix article ever written has been based on anonymous sources and rumors. Baughn quickly capitulated.)

Fate must have been smiling on me that day. Not only did I learn about the Windows Refund campaign, but I also learned of Microsoft's secret plans for the event. It was my destiny to attend one of the rallies on Monday. Alongside fellow climbers, we would overcome all obstacles and reach the summit of Mt. Everest.

Unfortunately, I didn't know about the dangerous avalanche about to come crashing down the mountain.

Return soon for Part 3 of Descent info Microsoft...

Contact me at jonsplatz [at] i-want-a-website [dot] com

Microsoft ActivePromo Campaign

Fake News written by James Baughn on February 9, 1999

Numerous news outlets broke the story yesterday that Microsoft plans to "reorganize" into four different departments -- Software, Marketing, Legal Defense, and Knowledge Workers & Oxymorons. In addition, Humorix has learned that Microsoft's PR masterminds are planning a massive marketing campaign, code-named "ActivePromo 2000", to go along with the reorganization. Promotions planned include "Frequent Upgrade Points", "Match Vaporware & Win!", "What Slogan Do You Want to See Tommorrow?", and more.

Presumably, the ActivePromo campaign is designed to fill the vacuum left by the lack of any new Windows versions this year, in addition to providing some much needed damage control after all the foot-shooting in the anti-trust trial recently.

One pundit told Humorix, "Microsoft spin doctors could argue that this PR campaign is yet another 'obvious sign' that Microsoft doesn't hold a monopoly. If Microsoft has a monopoly, they might argue, then Microsoft wouldn't have to spend any money on marketing. But with 'fierce competition' from Linux and others, Microsoft has to be paranoid to maintain its market leading position. Of course, this is all hype and hyperbole, but some of the flunkies over at Ziff-Davis and ABCNews.com might actually buy into it."

Some of the promotions on the drawing board for the coming months and years, according to several anonymous sources, include:

"Frequent Upgrade Points"

Supplicants Consumers who purchase upgrades to Windows, Office, or other Microsoft "solutions" will receive "frequent upgrade points" (FUPs) when they register online. These points, like Frequent Flyer Miles, can be redeemed in the future for discounts on other Microsoft upgrades. This program, combined with the fact that older versions of some Microsoft programs have glaring Y2K problems, should be enough to convince many people to shell out big bucks to upgrade to a more bloated modern version. Microsoft hopes to eradicate 99% of Windows 3.x installations by 2003.

"Match Vaporware & Win!"

Microsoft will team up with a major fast-food chain (McDonalds, probably, since it has the largest market share, but Burger King is another possibility) for a special Windows 2000 promotion (in late 2001?). With every combo meal purchase, the customer will receive a game token containing a date on it. If the official release of Windows 2000 is on that date, the customer can redeem the token for a variety of prizes -- ranging from a lifetime supply of Windows upgrades, to 25,000 shares of Microsoft stock.

"What Slogan Do You Want to See Tommorrow?"

Children under age 16 will have to opportunity to create their own Microsoft slogan to replace the aging "Where Do You Want to Go Today?"® motto. Microsoft will set up a special email alias where children can submit their entries along with detailed personal and demographic information (for verification purposes, of course). A panel of Microsoft employees will select a winning entry, which will become the official slogan. The winner and his/her family will receive an all-expense paid week-long vacation to Redmond, WA ("The Vacation Capital of East Central Washington State"), including a guided tour of the Microsoft campus and a personal ten minute photo-opportunity with Chairman Bill.

We personally believe that "Don't Think About Going Anywhere Else Today" would make a perfect Microsoft slogan. "Crashes Are Normal" might also be a good choice.

"Windows Competitive Upgrade Offer"

Users of non-Microsoft operating systems (Linux in particular) will be given the opportunity to trade-in their present OS for a free copy of Windows 98 (or NT 4.0) and Office 97. People (all three of them) who wish to participate in this program will have to:

• Mail their operating system's floppy disks or CD-ROMs to Microsoft
• Agree to a two year contract with the Microsoft Network.
• Agree (in writing) to the Competitive Upgrade License Agreement; one of the terms of which is that the user may not install, copy, or otherwise use a non-Microsoft OS for five years.

"State Innovation Day"

Microsoft has successfully lobbied for the State of Washington to declare August 24th as State Innovation Day. Efforts are underway to lobby the US Congress to decree a similar designation nationally. Several events are scheduled on August 24, 1999 to showcase "innovation" in the computer industry (in other words, Microsoft), including:

• An "Innovation Day Parade" held in downtown Seattle, featuring floats and helium-filled balloons representing various Microsoft products (Dancing Paper Clip, Microsoft Bob, Flying Windows Logo, IE's Animated 'e' Throbber, etc.).
• An "Innovation is Cool" essay contest for high school and college students. Possible topics include "Why IE Should Be Integrated in Windows 98", "How Windows Has Improved My Grades", "Why Bill Gates Is My Hero", "Why I Think Anti-Trust Laws Are Obsolete", "Government Intervention is Evil", and "Why Monopolies Improve Product Quality and Lower Prices".
• A 24-hour "Innovation in Education" telethon on NBC to raise money for school districts nationwide to buy new Wintel computer systems and Internet access through the Microsoft Network. Contributors will receive complementary Microsoft T-shirts and Internet Explorer CD-ROMs.

Descent into Microsoft (Part 1)

Fake News written by Jon Splatz on February 7, 1999

[Editor's Note: This is the first of a series of articles about Jon Splatz's adventures in obtaining an elusive Windows refund. In this first installment, Splatz visits CompUSSR to buy a new computer system. Unfortunately, it comes bundled with Windows 98... So, sit back, relax, grab a beer, and follow along as Jon tackles CompUSSR salesmen, his fears of inadequacy, and the Microsoft End User License Agreement.]

I feel like one of those Everest climbers. The mountain is in sight, but I can't quite make it to the base camp because my pack mule keeps throwing me off. I suspect that my sherpa guide is stealing my money and food.

My endeavor for the past two weeks has been to obtain a refund for the unused copy of Windows 98 that came pre-installed on my new computer from CompUSSR. Sitting here in the basement of Humorix World Headquarters, clutching my End User License Agreement, I can see the summit of Mt. Everest -- reclaiming my US$90 Microsoft Tax.

So far, however, my mission has been an utter failure. I'm stuck here with this pile of worthless CompUSSR and Microsoft promotional material that came with my new system. It mocks me. The coupon for a free copy of Microsoft Bob 99 stares at me like some evil Sasquatch monster who inhabits the Himalayas.

The weight of the world, of Microsoft's monopoly, of the shoddy state of the computer industry, bears down upon my soul. I feel like destroying my computer and digging out my dusty old solar calculator and my father's antique slide-rule.

Is my goal of climbing Mt. Everest too lofty? Perhaps, I ponder, climbing to the summit of the trash heap behind my apartment complex would be a more realistic endeavor. Or climbing the stairs to the top floor of Humorix World Headquarters. My faith in geekdom wavers, the pioneer spirit in me falters. I should just forget about this whole crusade and watch a nice movie on TV about mountain climbing.

But, alas, as a geek and a pundit, I can't give up! I didn't give up before when I was fired from ColdWired, did I? Now I have a cushy job writing articles for this so-called Humorix site. I can beat Microsoft yet! Move over Microsoft Empire, Jon Splatz is here! Get ready for me, Mt. Everest!

This whole adventure began two weeks ago when I was fired from my job at ColdWired Magazine. I was desperate for a soapbox where I could express my opinions and get paid at the same time. Meanwhile, the Humorix site was desperate for a pundit/social commentator of its own. If having a pundit worked for Slashdot, the Humorix staff reasoned, it could work for them. I was hired.

Unfortunately, there was one minor problem. I'd never heard of Linux. Obviously, I wasn't technically qualified to write for a Linux humor site (although, frankly, I don't see what's so "humorous" about half of the stuff that James Baughn creep writes). I might make some dumb mistake and refer to the "Linux kernel" as some guy named Linus in the military. I'd already appeared as a fool in other publications far too many times.

But, yet, I have credentials and experience. I'm a professional after all, who has written for ColdWired, Stale, and several Whiff-Davis publications. I could bring in a fresh perspective; something the geeks here at Humorix don't have. I also have a life.

So, I thought, I'm not completely incompetent. I can write fine articles for Humorix. Of course, I would have to learn how to use this Linux thing. I needed to summon all the geek strength in me. But I could do it.

Just one thing stood in my way: Murphy's Law. My apartment building had been struck by two violent bolts of lightning the night before. One zapped the phone lines, nearly frying my modem. It didn't matter much, though, because the second bolt caused a major power spike. My old Macintosh computer actually exploded. The $9.95 surge protector I had bought recently from Claw-Mart was no match for Murphy's fury.

I asked the Humorix staff for help. Their advice was conflicting, full of techno-babble and jargon usually only found in university CS classes. "Get a clone and install Linux in a partition within 1024 cylinders..." "Don't forget to run XF86Setup to configure the X Window System, otherwise the system could overclock the frequency of your monitor and force it to blow up in your face, wouldn't that be a shame..." "Bid on a new computer from eBay... make sure it has 1MB of L2 pipeline burst cache and a 128 bit AGP x2 video card..." Blah blah blah.

I wish I still had my old Macintosh. The Humorix dweebs kept pressing me to buy, beg, rent, or steal an x86 clone. I was about to enter the insecure World of Wintel. I collected all the strength I could muster, and pressed on.

Not knowing much about PCs, I decided to visit the only computer store in my town, CompUSSR. In hindsight, this was a terrible mistake. I found out later that, as the store's name suggests, CompUSSR was founded by Soviets who had fled Russia when Communism collapsed. It shows.

Upon entering the store, I immediately went to the customer support desk to ask about Linux. Maybe they could help me; the Humorix staff sure wasn't very helpful. For all I knew, it may be possible to run this Linux thing on a Macintosh.

My hopes were shattered when I saw the employee at the help desk. He wore a red uniform, sporting an oversized CompUSSR logo (a hammer and sickle superimposed on a dollar sign) and a name tag displaying "Mikhail" on his chest. He looked like he could have played the part of Joseph Stalin in one of those cheesy 1970s-era B-movies.

"I need some of your expert analysis," I said, trying to be respectful.
"For whom?" the Stalin-like figure asked.
"For me."
"We don't do that."
"What do you mean you don't do that? You sell computers, don't you?"
"Yes, but we don't offer psychological counseling."
"Argh! I want Linux on it."
"I thought you said it was for you? How come you keep changing your story? If it's for Linux, why don't you send him to a doctor? In fact, why are you here? We sell computers here."
"I know! I want one."
"Why didn't you say so? What kind do you want?"
"I don't know. I guess one that runs Linux."
"What's your crazy friend got to do with anything?"
"No, no! Linux the operating system..."
"At CompUSSR all of our computers include an operating system. Unlike most stores, we offer you a choice. You can choose Windows 3.11, Windows 95, Windows 98, or Windows NT."
"No, no, I don't want one."
"Well then what are you doing wasting my time? I think you are the crazy one, not this Linux friend of yours."
"No, I don't want a Windows operating system!"
"Fine, you can just delete it and install whatever operating system you want for your crazy friend Linux."
"Great, just give me a computer and I will be on my way."
"Make up your mind you filthy capitalist before I call the State Sec ...erm, I mean, the police."
"I want to talk to the store manager!"
"Fine. Oh wait, sorry. He is vacationing in Siberia with family. Next customer, please!"

Okay, so Plan A didn't work out. Maybe Plan B would. James Baughn, my new boss, said he would loan me one of his old Slushware Linux CDs (or was it Slackword? Slackware?) when I purchased a new system. All I had to do was buy a PC, delete whatever OS was pre-installed on it, pop in the CD, and install Linux. Simple.

I didn't like CompUSSR, but since it's the only computer store in town, and since I was already there, I decided to look at their systems. I wandered to the back of the store and looked at CompUSSR's long display of demo computers. Each system had its own CompUSSR brand name: "The Sputnik", "The Kremlin", "The Orient Express", etc. Beside each system was a sheet listing specs and features -- in Cyrillic and English. To me, though, the English part looked an awful lot like Greek; I had no clue what all this techspeak meant. The only thing I could understand was the price.

I thought about leaving the store, picking up a copy of "Wintel Shopper" magazine from the adjoining bookstore, and buying a computer through mail order. At least I wouldn't have to deal with anyone like Mikhail.

However, one CompUSSR salesman, Yuri, had other plans. He had been watching me look over the demo computers. When I was preparing to leave, he jumped on me like a hawk. "The Kremlin II is an excellent value," he yelled. I tried to escape from the salesman, but he kept bombarding me with promotional nonsense.

"What's so great about the Kremlin II?" I asked, playing along until I could find an opportunity to escape.
"See the sticker? Intel Inside. You can't beat that."
"But all your computers appear to have Intel chips."
"This Kremlin II is still the best value per ruble, er, I mean US dollar."
"What's so great about it?
"See the deluxe triple-layered lead-coated case? Heavy, but it could withstand a small nuclear blast."
"Uh, nice." I was trying to find a diversion, but to no avail. I usually carry around a fake beeper that I can set off by scratching my hip. Unfortunately, I had left my Divert-O-Beeper(tm) in my apartment.

"What's your most powerful system?" I asked, again feigning interest.
"Ah, you mean the Sputnik 1000DL-5 Deluxe with 400 MMXYZ Intel Celery-on chip, 64 bytes memory, built-in 5-1/4 inch drive, color video card..." He kept spouting off meaningless rhetoric about the system. Did the salesman understand what he was saying? I know I didn't.
"...in comparison," he continued, "The Kremlin II Deluxe has 333 MMXYZ Intel Hexium chip, 48 bytes memory..." Blah blah blah.

This continued for over an hour. I tried several times to fake a diversion, but the sales droid pressed on relentlessly.

Eventually, I gave in. CompUSSR had scored another paying customer. I wrote a check for $999.95 for a "Kremlin II Deluxe" system with 15 inch "Mir"-brand monitor. My bank account was a little low, but I knew my first Humorix paycheck would be arriving soon. I then carted the bulky system back to my apartment.

I found myself back at the customer service desk of CompUSSR the next morning. My new system wasn't working; it kept giving me these strange errors (in Cyrillic, no less!) when I turned it on.

Mikhail was unhappy to see me. "This box doesn't work," I complained. "I want it fixed."

"Sorry, I can't help you. I don't have any veteranarian experience. Sergei might, since he worked with animals on a collective farm in Ukraine, but he won't be in until noon.

"No, you [expletive]! This computer I bought yesterday doesn't work."

"See our policy?" He pointed to a large sign behind him painted in giant red letters that said, "No returns, no refunds, all sales are final. Unattended children will be sold as slaves."

We argued back and forth for several minutes. Finally, remembering something I once saw on a police show, I blurted out, "Look here Commie boy, I'm an agent for the INS, EPA, ATF, FBI, and CIA. The package this computer came in contains several dozen breeding pairs of dangerous Asian long-horned beetles. This is a very serious situation. I'd be willing to overlook this little, ah, problem if you'd destroy the package and give me a new working computer system."

The CompUSSR weasel finally gave in. "Alright, we'll exchange it for another system." A few minutes later, I left the store lugging the hundred pound system to my car.

I cleared the junk off the kitchen table in my apartment. After unpacking the new machine, I plugged in all the peripherals, and turned it on. I was greeted by the Windows 98 splash screen and then this dire message composed by the Microsoft legal department:

"WARNING! READ CAREFULLY -- By copying or using this software product, you (the "Supplicant") agree to be bound by the terms of this Microsoft End-User License Agreement. If you do not agree to the terms of this License, promptly return the unused software product to the place from which you obtained it for a full refund."

As I sat there pondering these ominous words, the phone rang. It was James Baughn, my boss, congratulating me on my first Humorix article, the "Linux Revolution" book review. While Baughn was in a good mood, I asked about my paycheck. "When do I get it?"

"Uh, well, uh... hmmm... there seems to be some kind of misunderstanding," he stuttered. "Humorix is strictly non-profit. There is no paycheck. Didn't I tell you that? We hired you so you could get back on your feet from that terrible ColdWired fiasco, rebuild your reputation, and then get a real job somewhere else. I thought we had an agreement about this. Sorry..."

I hung up on the greedy, ego-maniacal twerp. I just spent a thousand dollars on a computer I needed for my new job that doesn't pay anything! I still had a few thousand dollars saved in the bank, but it couldn't last very long.

An idea hit me. I couldn't return my computer now, but I could get a refund for Windows. After all, this Linux thing was a replacement for Windows, right? I could learn Linux, get some much-needed money back, and hopefully use my column on Humorix to rebuild my reputation as a pundit and geek.

My mission to obtain a Windows refund had begun. I was staring at the base of Mt. Everest. I knew I had a lot of obstacles to overcome, but I could make it. I could beat the system!

What a fool I was.

Return soon for Part 2 of Descent into Microsoft, where I encounter... Well, you'll see.

Contact me at jonsplatz [at] i-want-a-website [dot] com

Copenhagen Prepares for Gates

Fake News written by James Baughn on February 3, 1999

COPENHAGEN, DENMARK -- Everyone's favorite billionaire is scheduled to visit Copenhagen on Friday, February 5th. His visit includes a conference at the Bella Center situated in the Copenhagen suburb of Amager. One member of Humorix's Vast Spy Network(tm), code-named "A Linux Longhair from Denmark", has been able to suppy us with a detailed account of the preparations the city has made for Chairman Bill's visit.

Our source provided us with this report:

Accoding to the Copenhagen Metropolitan Police Department, strict security measures have been adopted in order to protect Bill Gates and his suite. Among the measures worth mentioning include:

• The sale of cream cakes, pies, and stuffed toys resembling penguins in any shop situated in the Amager suburb and in the central part of Copenhagen has been banned starting on February 3.

• The sale of piecakes and icecream in the InterCity trains that run to and from the Copenhagen International Airport has also been banned, since these trains pass less than 1/2 mile from the Bella Center.

• The area around the Bella Center has been cordonned off and everybody is searched for any of the aforementioned items. However, this has provoked protests from the workers on the nearby Copenhagen Metro construction site, after some of them have been turned away after piecakes were found in their bags and backpacks.

• The runway 12 at the Copenhagen International Airport will be closed during Bill Gates' conference, as the Bella Center is situated close to its flight approach path.

Another institution that has taken special measures related to the event is the Copenhagen Zoo: all the penguins have already been moved to Aalborg Zoo in Northern Jutland, which has agreed to provide them with shelter and care for the duration of Bill Gates' visit. This measure has been taken after the zoo managers learned that Bill Gates likes to carry a shotgun.

Slashdot Baiting

Fake News written by James Baughn on February 2, 1999

We here at Humorix World Headquarters receive a fair amount of spam, just like everyone else who has an email address. The destination of most of this garbage is /dev/null. Once in awhile, though, we get a spam message that's just too funny or absurd to delete. For instance, a month ago we were sent a junk email that claimed, "Spam is good for the environment! It reduces the need to send bulk mailings printed on dead trees!" However, that's nothing compared to the bizarre message we received earlier today entitled "MAKE MONEY FAST FROM SLASHDOT!!!!!!"

Attached below is a copy of the message.

Subject: MAKE MONEY FAST FROM SLASHDOT!!!!!!
Date: February 2, 1999
From: friend@public.com
To: humorix@i-want-a-website.com

Thank you for your time.