Look sharp, mateys! If yer ship be flying the flag of Windows 7 or 8, batten down the hatches and prepare to repel boarders. Cap’n Microbeard and his bloodthirsty band of pirates be sailin’ the interwebz’ stormy seas.
A co-worker turned on her computer last Monday morning and was hailed with a message congratulating her on upgrading to Windows 10. Shiver me timbers! We be sailin’ with Windows 7 on all the computers in our office and I don’t aim to change me allegiance – not now, anyways. Maybe later when all of me programs are compatible, but maybe never. That’s fer me, the captain, to decide. Leastways, it should be.
Microsoft thinks differently.
Their Windows 10 upgrade icon is stuck faster ‘n a barnacle to every ship in our armada, and it pops up more often than mermaids off the port side after double rations of grog.
“10 is great!” The screen trumpets.
“10 is fab!” The screen shouts.
“Upgrade to Windows 10 and you’ll lose 20 pounds, be 2 inches taller and never have to worry about unsightly ring-around-the-collar again!” The screen brays.
Belay that talk! It’s a constant peril, like sirens luring unwary sailors to their doom on the rocks. I warned me sailors to ignore the sirens’ song and plugged their ears with wax, but one gave in. She swears she didn’t, but the evidence was right thar on her screen. Nobody walks the plank unless’n it’s at the point of a sword, and computers don’t execute programs all on their own.
An hour later I had to eat me words.
I was sailing along in calm waters, checking emails, when me own screen turned the color of the deep blue sea and an announcement flashed across it that Windows 10 was being installed. That scourge of the seven seas, Cap’n Microbeard and his band of pirates, had their grappling hooks in me ship.
I didn’t go peaceful-like – hell no. I grabbed me cutlass and fought like a demon. I thrust, I parried, the sweat drippin’ into me eyes as I hit “Esc” and “Alt+Ctrl+Delete” over and over again. Cap’n Microbeard and his picaroons outnumbered us 100,000 to 1 and they kept on a-comin’ with fiendish strength. Twas clear the blackguards wouldn’t stop til they dragged us down to Davey Jones’ Locker. And installed Windows 10.
Me lads fought bravely, but we was losin’ ground. The counter on me screen inched its way from “0% installed” to “4% installed.” Cap’n Microbeard taunted me, the yellow-bellied son of a pox-ridden-whore, saying, “Do not turn computer off during program installation.” It looked like we was dead men, and they don’t tell no tales. In a last-ditch effort to save me trusty ship and crew, I tried one final, desperate act. I turned it off.
That did the trick. Cap’n Microbeard and his Microsoft cutthroats slunk off with their tails between their legs like the mangy dogs they is.
We bound up our wounds and surveyed the damage. The first ship, what they’d temporarily captured, was put to rights. Then I parleyed with some other ship captains on the interwebz. Turns out Cap’n Microbeard and his hornswaggler crew had been terrorizing the peaceful waters of the interwebz nigh on a year. Their attacks had become more frequent and bloodthirsty of late as they had vowed to capture every ship flying the Windows 7 and Windows 8 flags.
“Where’s the King?” We cried. “Why don’t his troops clap this blackguard in irons? “ Seems Cap’n Microbeard is more powerful than the King’s justice. Brigands now rule the seas of the interwebz.
Right sharp we posted lookouts in the crows-nest day and night, loaded our six pounders for action and changed our Windows Update security settings from “Install updates automatically (recommended)” to “Let me choose.” We warn’t to be caught sleeping again. After several days of smooth sailing we thought we’d seen the last of that brigand.
That’s when he struck again.
The sentry in the crows-nest cried out, “Sail ho!” Our settings was still on “Let me choose,” but there warn’t no warning and no choosing involved – Windows 10 update commenced on its own on another one of me ships. Cap’n Microbeard musta come alongside and crept silently aboard; probably came up the anchor cable the way most rats do. He was trying to download Windows 10, yet again.
Scupper that! This time we was prepared and sprang into action with all hands on deck. We made short work of the business and soon had that bilge-rat and his followers over the side. But there warn’t no false sense of security for us this time. Sure as a case of the clap follows a trip ashore to crack Jenny’s cup, he would be back. What to do?
I parleyed on the interwebz again. Lawlessness now rules the operating system seas, and the King won’t protect us honest sailors, so other captains have taken matters into their own hands. They hired on mercenaries; brought ’em aboard to protect the crew and cargo from intruders. The scuttlebutt was that Cap’n GWX Control Panel and his gang was good. We hired ’em on.
I don’t like having strangers on me ship, and I ain’t sure I trust Cap’n GWX. Mayhap he’ll turn out to be as big a scalawag as Cap’n Microbeard. But a captain’s gotta do what she must to protect her own, so on we sail, uneasy, waiting to see if these calm waters will last.
To Cap’n Microbeard I say; avast, ye scurvy mongrel! If ye and your crew of slimy bilge rats try to board me ship again, you’ll feel the taste of me cat-o-nine tails on your backs afore you’re keelhauled. Or maybe I’ll make ye dance with Jack Ketch. Yer choice.
Has Cap’n Satya “Microbeard” Nadella and his Microsoft crew tried to board your ship with Windows 10? Did they succeed? Are you as mad as I am? Can I get an ARRRRRRRRRR?
Check out the Pirate Glossary for more pirate lingo, mateys.