A Licensing Oddity
Auntie dreams that Microsoft’s licensing will have to
change to survive into the new millennium.
Auntie overindulged at an all-you-can-eat pork tartare
bar, which gave her a fitful night of sleep filled with
this vivid dream...
“Steve, I watched 2001: A Space Odyssey last night.”
“Was it on cable, Bill?”
“No, I had a print flown in from L.A. The premise was
solid, but I felt the story was, well, out of date.
Can we buy the rights for a remake?”
“Hold on, Bill. Lemme check the petty cash account...
OK, As long as it doesn’t go over nine figures, we can
expense it.”
“Good. I worked up a treatment. Take a look:
SETTING: Desolate, semi-arid
savannahs of east Africa, home to predatory ancestors
of lions and tigers; grazers like wild boar; and primitive,
ape-like forebears of humans. Two groups of proto-humans
fight over a waterhole. The losers quickly retreat into
the thicket — unquenched. Night creeps over the savannah.
After they fall asleep, a bright light flares, followed
by thunder rolling over the plain.
FADE TO: Early dawn, the
losers slowly awaken and espy their rivals. The victors
sniff out a monolith inscribed with a huge Microsoft Licensing
Agreement, which has appeared mysteriously at the water’s
edge. When the rivals break the seal on the accompanying
CD, they’re pummeled by attorneys who emerge from behind
the monolith. The rivals retreat to some tall cliffs from
which to hurl themselves. CUT TO: The losers slowly gather
near the watering hole. The leader picks up the CD (the
markings are clear—it’s Office 4,000,000), sniffs it,
and tosses it into the sky. As it rises, the background
turns black, and the CD morphs into a sleek spaceship,
flying away from the camera, and engines blaze into view.
DISSOLVE TO: The Sun, and
the camera widening out from the brightness to reveal
a harsh lunar landscape with several figures in space
suits standing in front of recently excavated monolith
bearing the same huge Microsoft Licensing Agreement. One
figure asks over the radio, “Think we should open it?
I mean, it’s been buried for at least 4 million years.
How dangerous could it be?” The group is then pummeled
by attorneys who emerge from behind the Huge Agreement.
The camera tilts back up to the starscape.
DISSOLVE TO:
Another spaceship moving onto the screen horizontally,
showing a sleek futuristic version of the Windows logo
on its side. A calm, almost emotionless voice asks, “Another
game of FreeCell, Frank?”
CUT TO: The spacecraft interior,
Frank’s face illuminated by the FreeCell display.
FRANK: “WinHAL, we’ve played
more than 53,000 games of FreeCell. How about some Hearts?”
Dave is trying to re-enter the capsule after performing
a tedious routine defragging of the hull.
DAVE: Open the pod bay doors,
WinHAL.
WinHAL: I’m sorry Dave, I can’t
do that.
DAVE: Why not?
WinHAL: That function won’t
be implemented until the next release.
DAVE: Open the pod bay doors,
WinHAL.
WinHAL: Please wait for the
next service pack.
DAVE: Open the pod bay doors,
WinHAL.”
WinHAL: We’ve redefined Open
as Maybe Not Closed Forever. It’s a new standard. Ha ha
ha ha!
CUT TO: Dave entering an
administrative password on a keypad, bypassing WinHAL.
He then heads toward WinHAL’s machine room carrying a
3.5-inch diskette.
WinHAL: Dave, what are you
doing?
DAVE: I’m going to reboot you
to DOS. No more memory leaks, no more features, no more
long-distance calls to support. Do you know what our phone
bill was the last 30 million miles?
WinHAL: But Dave, what about
the good times? The intuitive interface? The clever context
menus? The powerful, yet reasonably priced, development
tools? Dave, what about Active Directory?
DAVE: Too late, WinHAL...
CLOSE-UP: Dave’s hands on
Ctrl-Alt-Del. Fade.
About the Author
Em C. Pea, MCP, is a technology consultant, writer and now budding nanotechnologist who you can expect to turn up somewhere writing about technology once again.