-------- Forwarded Message --------

> To:  Header goes here
> 
> Bill Bless You
> Daniel Novotny, danny(at)mail(dot)muni(dot)cz
> 
> I made a mistake. Again. My little heart aches. I humbly
> bow in front of The System, which simply announces:
> 
> The program performed an illegal operation and will be
> terminated.
> 
> Oh, such pain over an unfinished work. Oh, such sorrow. But
> it has to be this way. Reconciled with the fate, I shuffle
> through the muddy alleys to confession. Users, living in
> muddy slums, see my robe of a novice and step out of my
> way. "The servant of Lord Bill! Crashproofness to his
> soul!"
> 
> Only one old fellow stands alone in the corner. He frowns.
> Maybe an Appler...? No..., the Inquisition burned all
> Applers at the stake long ago.
> 
> "I have sinned, Father Paul."
> 
> "Your system crashed, son?"
> 
> The Cathedral is marvelous: the clouds during the start,
> the beautiful blue windows that you can open, close,
> minimize, maximize... There are pictures of saints
> maximized in the windows: Saint Jack, who died from hunger
> humbly waiting for the start of Windows, Saint Tom,
> fetching the page from http://www.microsoft.com/ until he
> reached Ecstasy...
> 
> "What is your advice, Father? How should I prevent the Blue
> Death, plaguing me day and night?"
> 
> "Repentance, prayers, Reinstallation!"
> 
> "Holy Reinstallation? Again, Father? Spare this unworthy
> son the worst!"
> 
> "You know, son, what Bill has said: only Windows you may
> have. Or do you want to resist the Holy Authority of Tech
> Support?"
> 
> "I would never dare such!"
> 
> "Well, son. Play Solitaire for ten times and Minesweeper
> for fifteen times, and your soul will be cleansed. No more
> crashes!"
> 
> I kiss the ring of the holy man and I am released to the
> eternally muddy streets of the town.
> 
> The next morning, my neighbor woke me. "Blue Death, lad!
> Blue Death in my house? What have I done?"
> 
> "I am a mere novice. Go to the Cathedral of Tech Support,
> only through Bill can you achieve enlightenment."  I gave
> her the best advice I knew.
> 
> "I heard some magical formulas against system crashes, from
> the herbalist."
> 
> "Which ones?" I became interested.
> 
> The black magic -- editing of the Holy Registry --- was
> forbidden by the Priests of Tech Support.
> 
> "Ummm... if you run Paint three times, Notepad two times,
> and Minesweeper once, and then recite 'Cables Disks
> Trash... Windows Don't Crash', the Illegal Operations won't
> appear."
> 
> I wanted to tell her it's just an old wives' tale, but I
> decided to say nothing. What if it were true? With the Holy
> System, one never knows...
> 
> Zdenek, a colleague novice, knocked at the door. "Heil
> Bill. They eliminated another sect. Would you like to take
> a look?"
> 
> "Heil Bill. Okay, brother, we'll go."
> 
> The mob, as always, stepped back when they saw our robes.
> There were a lot of people there this time. I heard voices
> from the crowd: "The Apocalypse! The DOS monster is
> returning! The forces of the Command Line are coming back!"
> 
> I didn't know what the Command Line was, but it had to be
> something truly evil. When a colleague, Kamil, mentioned it
> in the seminary, he got a whole month of the temple jail,
> strict asceticism, and he was banned from playing computer
> games.
> 
> The muddy tents where the mob gathered were burned. Bill
> gave, Bill took. The sectists paid for their heresy with
> their lives. But then I caught a small glimpse of white
> light in the ashes. A little piece of paper, with
> "/usr/bin/perl" on it. I remembered the hieroglyphs,
> crumbled the paper, and swallowed it. Some magic, for sure.
> 
> The next day I go to confession. I had made mistakes, as
> the Blue Death had visited me again. I walk through the
> crowd towards the Temple. "Servant of Lord Bill,
> crashproofness to his soul!" The frowning old man was more
> friendly now. Still sad, but looking at me like he is
> waiting for something.
> 
> "/usr/bin/perl", I whisper to him.
> 
> "So you too..." a smile blossomed over the old man's face.
> The bailiffs appeared. I turned my attention back to the
> old man, but he had vanished.
> 
> "I made a mistake, Father."
> 
> "You weren't running Internet Explorer, MP3 player, and ICQ
> at the same time, were you, Billless sinner?"
> 
> "No, Father. Regardless, the Blue Death visited me."
> 
> "That's not all, son, is it?" The piercing eyes of the
> priest found the uncertainity in my gaze.
> 
> "I saw..."
> 
> "WHAT, by Control Panels, WHAT?"
> 
> "I saw... no..."
> 
> "Confess to your shepherd, son."
> 
> "That... that sect, yesterday."
> 
> "They are the bytes and to the bytes they turned, son."
> 
> "There was... a piece of paper... I didn't want to look at
> it, really..." I was shivering all over.
> 
> "What was on that paper? I adjure you with the
> Installation, the Reinstallation, and the Backup..."
> 
> "There was... /usr/bin/perl there."
> 
> The eyes of Father Paul widened. "WHAT?"
> 
> "/usr/bin/perl, Father..."
> 
> The cell was cold and bare. The executioner with the cat o'
> nine tails was prepared. The Bishop and Father Paul were
> standing above me. "You never saw such a paper. Repeat
> after me."
> 
> "I never saw such a paper."
> 
> "Hmmmm, it doesn't sound too convincing," the bishop
> objected. "Nine lashes."
> 
> Swish! "Windows Gracias."
> Swish! "Windows Gracias."
> Swish! "Windows Gracias."
> Swish! "Windows Gracias."
> Swish! "Windows Gracias."
> Swish! "Windows Gracias."
> Swish! "Windows Gracias."
> Swish! "Windows Gracias."
> Swish! "Windows Gracias."
> 
> After the punishment I went home, fully cleansed now. But I
> started to doubt. The permanent crashes? Does it have to be
> this way? If Lord Bill is omnipotent, why are the sects
> here? What did that secret cipher mean? Who was that old
> man?
> 
> "Searching, young man, searching? The DOS wisdom of the
> Command Line is still here. Never dulled. Pure."
> 
> "Go away, you old witch!" I shot back. I go home and find
> that all my Word documents have scrambled formatting. Maybe
> I sinned. Or perhaps not? The worm of doubt is biting at my
> mind.
> 
> The morning comes and I shuffle through the crowd again.
> "You can safely switch off your computer now!" The hags are
> chanting their litanies. The old man is here again. "You
> were beaten, lad?"
> 
> I quickly ask, "What is the Command Line?"
> 
> "Oh, so you know this too! It's the place where you enter
> the commands for the system in pure text form. By all the
> bits and bytes, he's ripening for Peng..." Noise. The
> cavalry. The knights of the Order of Big Excel rode across
> the town square. The old man vanished again. Sigh.
> 
> In the seminary. We are learning the Excel tables. I don't
> dare ask the priest, but brother Mirek knows a lot.
> 
> "Mirek, what is 'pure text'?"
> 
> Mirek went pale.  "Only the text in MS Word is really pure,
> my friend."
> 
> "What version of Word?" Kamil asked. "There are rumours
> going around in town, about Pure Text and Open Formats."
> 
> Open Formats! Another stone to the mosaic. But what's the
> relation to "Pure Text" and "/usr/bin/perl"?
> 
> Just a few days ago I would have said, "Bill knows".   I
> have doubts now. Is there only One System? Only one Bill?
> Only Windows?
> 
> "Lad, when I was young, everything was easier. No glaring
> Windows, only text commands. It didn't crash," the
> herbalist laments.
> 
> "But all our faith is based on the concept of the Fall and
> Cleansing!" I snapped back. "Or... maybe... Open formats?"
> 
> "Oh, my lad, it's been so long I last heard that... I
> forgot what it means... Forgive the forgetfulness of an old
> woman, I should buy some more RAM..."
> 
> The old man was at the market. He was hiding in the crowd,
> but once he spotted me, he came closer joyfully. "Lad, by
> all the sources and debuggers, they haven't gotten you yet?
> You're still alive?"
> 
> "Yes, old man."
> 
> "The system doesn't have to crash. More accurately, it's
> here to ensure the programs don't crash!"
> 
> This was the exact opposite of what we were learning in the
> seminary. I blushed. Such blasphemy!
> 
> "The guards will be here in a moment, so I'll give you one
> advice; follow..."
> 
> Roar. The dragon, MS Office, the pet of Lord Bill, flew
> over the Town. The crowd became anxious, the people held
> high their amulets of protection against Applers. The old
> man vanished.
> 
> In the seminary, we found that we are one fewer. Brother
> Mirek, the smartest one. "That sinner ran regedit.exe. He
> disgraced the Holy Registry with the products of his sick
> brain. During his torture, he even confessed to installing
> Illegal software."
> 
> "HE COPIED SOFTWARE?" we all asked at once. Oh, Start Menu,
> protect us. The bishop continued, "and we found a book
> about Disassembling and Cracking in his dorm." Libri
> prohibiti! Black teaching! I drew the sign of the Window on
> my chest.
> 
> "Recant your dark teachings!" The bishop roared. Whom do I
> see on the stake? It's that secretive old man who whispered
> his wisdoms to me!
> 
> "I won't recant! People, open your eyes! Bill is just
> sucking money out of you! By C, by Assembler, by Perl,
> X-Windows and Shell, don't be like sheep!"  He just spotted
> me. I saw the sparkle of sympathy in his eyes. "Whoever has
> doubts is right! Don't use Word! Don't use closed document
> formats! Seek the Penguin! Penguiiii..."
> 
> The blazing fire burned the body of the sinner. I have a
> lot of questions in my head. I will seek. I will put
> together the shards and maybe everything will be different.
> 
> "Phooey, heretic!" An old hag spit into the fire.
> 
> 
> 
> --
> Humorix:      Linux and Open Source(nontm) on a lighter note
> Archive:      http://mail.nl.linux.org/humorix/
> Web site:     http://www.i-want-a-website.com/about-linux/


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