RE: MS WINDOWS: A memo

I would like to congratulate Microsoft and the United States on producing an operating system so ‘powerful and innovative’ that, in 2013, rather than taking 12 picoseconds to install software (OS X), it takes 173 -days- just to -update- itself -prior to sh*tting down.

This is the OS that brought you RATTING, Stuxnet, and built-in surveillance. As if these were ketchup for the french-fries of your computing activity.

Seriously, this isn’t even humorous it’s just… I mean, this is worse than the US government. It makes a mockery … of -mockeries-. Any broken monkey who hates themselves and their progeny enough to expose themslaves to ‘Windows’ (it should have been called “Execution Chamber’) would find their lot significantly improved if they simply arranged to witness an atomic explosion from ground zero. With their kids.

My little Asus laptop has been heroically, fatuously, updating for like 4 hours and there’s not even anything to update. This is an olympian remonstration with temporality whose inexplicable depths are wont to stymie even dear Ripley’s dread shade.

Installing a minor piece of utility software? I had to prep for a birthday before beginning. I mean, seriously, I had to make funeral arrangements in advance and stockpile food.

It’s like a time machine… except the opposite… you are prohibited from temporal travel, held hostage in a now rendered progressively more insufferable by the frustratingly cyclic (dare I say perennial?) and utterly predictable failure of the little wormlike code buboes whose clusters they dare call an operating system to make any -actual progress at the task at hand- including the fact that neither do they appear to have crashed.

Oh monstrous dispenser of undeserved butthurt whose foundations rose unimpeded from the toxic effluent produced in some Redmond, Virginia torture chamber dressed up as a pre-hipster’s bent, agonic, Microsloth’d brainsac, I oppose you with every fiber of my being. No. I tell you. No.

Hear my scream: No.

Windows is like promising someone the Sun and delivering a charred matchstick dressed up as a birthday candle dressed up as a [redacted] dressed up as my own [redacted].

No.