[humorix] Microsoft Conspiracy Theory #578,361

[James Baughn <humorix@i-want-a-website.com>]

----
Warning:  humorous content ahead.
To prevent overdosage for the sensitive readers, please
take your discussions to humorix-l@nl.linux.org...
----

Microsoft Conspiracy Theory #578,361
Paul Strand, paul.s@paradise.net.nz
April 12, 2001

"We're sorry, sir, but our Windows 98 computer system must
have made a mistake," the clerk told me.  I had ordered a
ticket to Wellington.  The ticket even said Wellington. 
But I was sitting in Auckland, all because the ticket had
the wrong flight number printed on it.  Here's a handy tip:
when flying the unfriendly skies, be sure to avoid airline
companies that rely on Windows for their reservation
systems.

But that's not the point of this fake news article.  I'm
about to reveal one of the most sinister Microsoft
conspiracy theories to date, a conspiracy that makes
anything on the "X-Files" look amateurish.

After receiving a new ticket to Wellington along with 10
billion frequent flyer miles (cash value: nothing) as
compensation for the airline mistake, I headed straight to
the airport bar to numb the pain of being trapped with the
locals.  If you've never dealt with an Aucklander, it's
like having teeth pulled (or getting a Microsoft refund, or
getting a straight answer from Microsoft tech support,
or... well, it's like trying to do anything involving
Microsoft).

In the bar I sat down next to another miserable soul and
asked if he had gotten stuck on the wrong flight as well.
He responded, "No, I live here... I'm upset because I just
lost my job."

Warning lights went off in my head.  I tried to end the
conservation, knowing that he was going to dive into a
long-winded story that doesn't go anywhere.  "It's a
conspiracy, I tell you..." he continued, cutting me off. 
"It's all a conspiracy..." he moaned.

I signaled the bartender to give me something stronger than
beer. The guy went on to explain that he was a US
correspodent for a newspaper, dispatched to investigate
what kind of technology was on board the US spy plane that
landed in China.  I signaled the bartender again to just
keep them coming.

He dove into his long-winded story, which went something
like this:

---

I went to the home base of the spy plane in Washington
State, and headed over to a local bar where I pretended to
be an aircraft enthusiast.  After making small talk with
two privates for awhile, I casually commented, "What a
shame losing that spy plane was."

Both privates (heavily drunk, I might add) were quite eager
to volunteer information.  "Spy plane? What spy plane?'
they both laughed.  The first guy said, 'What a joke. Here
we send out a so-called spy plane with such a low-tech
design that it requires pru... prah... propellers, and
nobody thinks twice about it."

The other private added, "Yeah, I mean why use a plane for
spying that can be picked up so easily? That's stupid...
the last time we actually used one of those planes for
spying was when... uh... I forget.  Hey, what's your name
again?"

"Well, if these planes don't get much flight time, I guess
you guys hardly have to maintain them?" I shot back.
"Actually, that's why we're here," one private said.  "Some
guys from Microsoft came on the base the other day; they
relieved us ground crew fellas and we were all issued week
long passes.  Pretty sweet, eh? [hick]" 

An off-duty MP sitting at the other end of the bar started
looking at us funny after the word "Microsoft" was
mentioned, so I casually ended the conservation and left. 
It didn't take an Einstein to realize that Microsoft was up
to something dodgy.  Knowing that Redmond was just a few
miles away, I grabbed a rental car and drove over to One
Microsoft Way.

Here I pretended to be a tech reporter for a small town
newspaper hoping to get an interview with "my all-time hero
Bill Gates, the world's smartest man".  I laid it on thick,
almost choking to death on the words.  

The receptionist, however, just stared at me blankly and
said in a voice devoid of personality, "I'm sorry but staff
interviews are not permitted. However, you can request a
press release from our legal department..." She was cut
short by her telephone.  She answered, "Microsoft
Corporation. Where do you want to go today?"  

While she kept saying "Yes, sir" on the phone, I looked up
and noticed that a video camera was pointed at me,
following my every movement. She abruptly hung up and said
robotically, "Chairman Gates wishes to speak with you. 
Please take the first elevator to the bottom floor and
punch in your visitation access code, 95OSR2."

Well, at this point I nearly fainted.  Mustering all of my
bullshitting skills that I learned while working as an
intern at Ziff-Davis, I proceeded to the elevator and
punched in my access code.  The elevator's Windows ME
console blinked, "Your code will expire today on April 4th
2001 at 3:34pm.  You have 100 years, 29 minutes, and 59
seconds remaining.  Which floor do you want to go to
today?"  I pressed the button for "billg@microsoft.com" and
the elevator began a slow downward descent into Hell...
well, the Microsoft sub-sub-basement bunker.

When the doors opened, I found myself in a huge spacious
office filled with pure wool carpets, leather chairs, and a
small closed fireplace with a kindling basket full of
creased $100 notes.  The room was surrounded by large
"windows", which I later discovered were actually
flat-panel monitors showing live video feeds from the
surface (I could tell they were fake windows because one of
them later bluescreened).

In front of me was a large polished mahogony desk;
scattered upon it were stress balls, stress pens, Internet
Explorer CDs, and framed newspaper clippings ("Microsoft
Acquires Hotmail", "Microsoft Buys WebTV", "Bill Gates Tops
Forbes List", etc.)

Mr. Gates started off the conservation.  "Hello, Mr...
uh..." he prompted. Without thinking, I told him my real
name.  Oops.  "Don't bother taking off your shoes, Mr.
Pascoe, he told me.  "I have the carpet replaced every
weekend.  Anyway, I hear that you are planning on writing
an article about me."

I hastily replied, "Err... yes!  About how your... uh,
vision will shape mankind's very existence."  The smile
widened on Bill's face and he said, "I suppose you want to
know how I do it all?"  His smile waned as I hesitated, but
I quickly recovered my bullshit skills. "Err, yes! How do
you manage to mould the entire planet (or dare I say
Universe) for a better future?  And please excuse my
hesitance, I know that you of all people can understand how
difficult it is to absorb the evidence of your sheer
brilliance."

Wow! I didn't think I could keep up this charade for much
longer. I can only spew lies for so long before I go crazy,
but Bill was ready to gobble up more bullshit than I or
even Microsoft's own Marketing Department could ever
create.

I can only thank the Great Penguin for what happened next
to get me out of this jam.  Bill's secretary raced in to
announce that a large van had pulled up to the front
entrance of the campus and had vandalized an Internet
Explorer logo, replacing it with a green lizard.

Bill and the secretary rushed out of the office to
investigate, leaving me behind to do a little snooping. 
What luck!  I pulled up Internet Explorer to refill on
bullshit from ZD-Net, and then launched Outlook to dig
through Bill's private e-mail.  

I hit paydirt.  I saved a few e-mails containing the words
"China" and "conspiracy" to a floppy and still had time to
read the latest ZD-Net feature on how great Windows XP will
be. I heard Bill returning, so I quickly covered my tracks
by crashing Windows ME (which takes all of 1.3 microseconds
using the C:\CON\CON "known issue").

Bill returned and grimaced at the bluescreen on his
computer. "Dammit, I thought this machine had the
top-secret crash-proof version of Windows ME installed on
it.  Oh well."  He pressed a large reset button mounted on
his desk and then grabbed a gold letter opening which he used
to carve an eighth notch into his mahogany desk.  "Did I
mention that I get a new desk every day?" he gloated. "So,
what have you got in mind for your article?" he asked.

I repeated a modified version of the Ziff-Davis feature I
had just read, which seemed to satisfy Bill.  "Great!" he
responded. "Unfortunately, my calendar shows that I've got
three companies to acquire today, so I'm a little pressed
for time.  I'm sorry we can't talk more today, but feel
free to send a draft of your article to my _real_ e-mail
address, god@microsoft.com.  Oh, and before you go, take a
stack of IE CDs with you."

Safely back in my hotel room, I pulled up the e-mails.  The
first was merely a note to his secretary about how the
Chinese restaurants in Seattle were involved in some sort
of conspiracy to make him pay higher prices.  "One waiter
overcharged me by $3 dollars!" he complained.

The other e-mail was juicier.  I don't remember the exact
wording, but it essentially described Microsoft's plan to
infiltrate the Chinese government's computer network with
NT/2000.  Microsoft would place Windows 2000 on the
computer network aboard the "spy plane". The Chinese would
then be led to believe that the plane contains "advanced"
American technology.  Of course, they would copy the
software to their own computers, believing it to be some
kind of American military secret.  This would weaken the
Chinese for a later US invasion, and would allow Microsoft
to more easily monopolize the IT market in China.  

A third e-mail mentioned some kind of deal between
Microsoft and the US military.  Apparently the US would go
along with the spy plane conspiracy in exchange for the
secret bug-free crash-proof version of Windows.  

Other pieces fit into the conspiracy.  One, spy planes
normally contain a device that destroys sensitive equipment
and documents in an emergency, but that device wasn't
installed on this particular mission.  Two, the plane's
home base is just miles away from the Redmond compound.  

Armed with this knowledge, I immediately phoned my editor
back at home and told him the whole story.  He replied,
"RUN THAT BABY!!!!" However, his tone changed when I
arrived home the next day.   It seems my newspaper had been
acquired overnight by a Microsoft front company, and I was
out of a job.  Meanwhile,  my luggage and laptop had been
sent to Timbuktu "by mistake" (according to the airline). 
I was told that my luggage might arrive back in New Zealand
in "four to six years".  

Of course, Microsoft had orchestrated the whole thing. 
Dammit, I thought I would be safe from them here in New
Zealand.  It's a conspiracy I tell you!  A conspiracy!

---

The former newspaper reporter finally finished his story.
During the guy's spiel, the bartender had supplied me with
large quantities of alcohol, and I was in quite a pickled
state by now.  I started to think in Yodix.  I replied,
"Will be safe here, you thought.  A headquarters in
Auckland Microsoft has, you knew not... [hick] After 48
shots of scotch, speak so straight, you will not [belch]."

So there you have it.  Take this how you will, but please
remember: until you have a memo, it's just a theory.


................................................................
This article brought to you by the Humorix Vast Spy Network(tm)
-
Humorix:      Linux and Open Source(nontm) on a lighter note
Archive:      http://humbolt.nl.linux.org/lists/
Web site:     http://www.i-want-a-website.com/about-linux/