There was a knock on the door. It was the man from Microsoft. "Not you again," I said. "Sorry," he said, a little sheepishly. "I guess you know why I'm here." Indeed I did. Microsoft's $300 million campaign to promote the Windows 95 operating system was meant to be universally effective, to convince every human being on the planet that Windows 95 was an essential, some would say integral, part of living.

Problem was, not everyone had bought it.  Specifically, I hadn't bought it.  I was the Last Human Being Without Windows 95.  And now this little  man from Microsoft was at my door, and he wouldn't take no for an answer.


"No," I said.  "You know I can't take that," he said, pulling out a copy of Windows 95 from a briefcase. "Come on.  Just one copy.  That's all we ask."  "Not interested."  I said. "Look, isn't there someone else you can go bother for a while?  There's got to be someone else on the planet who doesn't have a  copy." "Well, no,"  The Microsoft man said. "You're the only one."

"You can't be serious.  Not everyone on the planet has a computer," I said.   Hell, not everyone on the planet has a PC!  Some people own Macintoshes, which run their own operating system.  And some people who have PCs run OS/2, though  I hear that's just a rumor.  In short, there are some people who just have no use for Windows 95." 

The Microsoft man look perplexed. "I'm missing your point," he said. "Use!"  I screamed. "Use!  Use!  Use!  Why BUY it, if you can't USE it?" 


"Well, I don't know anything about this 'use' thing you're going on about,"  The Microsoft man said. "All I know is that according to our records, everyone else on the planet has a copy."  "People without computers?"  "Got 'em." "Amazonian Indi