It was early evening of the day following Mr. Period's
decision to “cross to the dark side” by interjecting unsolicited Punctuation
Suite Level Eight interventions into their user's compositions. But according
to all current operational protocols, at least up to that moment, program
components are absolutely forbidden from interfering in any way outside of the
standard tools options with their user's actions. It seems, however, that Mr.
Period had been able to obtain a dispensation from The Hard Drive Master that
would allow his punctuation team to carry out such actions if grammatically or
editorially justified.
So after Simon, their unsuspecting user, sent a few short
e-mails and then made some twitter comments, he started the writing assignment
for his PSU English class. It was almost immediately after Simon started what
he intended to be a short mini-story that Mr. Period issued an alarm loud and
clear. “Attention everyone. User has opened a new document and titled it
“Lettuce Eat Salad.” It appears he is starting a story piece for a class
assignment. Let's stay sharp and ready to jump in if need be.” The team's
excitement level rose perceptively in anticipation of helping their hapless
user produce something worthwhile, his previous attempts so far managing to
attain no grade higher than C-minus. “Stay alert, be ready to intercede!” Mr.
Period repeated.
Retreating back to his own bit space, Mr. Period considered
again User's new document designation, “Lettuce Eat Salad.” Holy Meatballs! he thought to himself.
This ham-handed attempt at verbal humor is just too stupid, too obvious,
totally unacceptable. “Lettuce” to represent “Let Us”? No way will I ever let
such tripe stand.
“Zap.” The new document, and its file tag, was instantly
changed to “Let Us Eat Salad.” He probably won't even notice, Mr. Period
ruminated, his electrons vibrating in a reddish haze of editorial superiority.
Not noticing the title change, Simon continued composing and
typing, desperate to get this piece done to hand in the following morning, on
time for a change. He was intending a little spoof on his vegetarian
girlfriend's addiction to that colorful curly-leaf lettuce she put in the two
salads she consumed every day. Just a little humorous story to meet the week's
writing requirement. No big deal. Just get a passing grade and move on. In
fact, he readily accepted the fact that he was no great writer: he had no
aspirations in that direction. After all, he was a math major. Numbers were all
he needed to express his version of reality.
Simon was accustomed to the automatic spelling corrections by
Spell Check, even welcomed them; he was not a very good speller either. And he
was happy to accept the correction when he accidentally hit the comma key when
he meant a period. But he was totally
surprised as he proceeded with the story when suddenly two separate sentences
rearranged into one, a semicolon separating the two clauses. What was all
that about? I didn't do that, he thought. Then, more attentive, he noticed
the change in the title. “Hmm. I don't like this, too much like a Hal
action,” he mumbled.
He then checked the “Tools” suite, went to “Language”, then “For
all Text”, then “More Options”, then to “Writing Aids”; spelling and grammar
correction functions were checked, but nothing was even listed for optional
punctuation preferences or editorial changes. So how is this happening?
he wondered. Maybe Microsoft has installed an upgrade that adds this tool.
He checked recent upgrades. Nothing! I'll just call Microsoft and see what
they have to say, he decided.
"What? Your computer is making unsolicited editorial
changes in your composition? That's impossible! Corrections of basic
punctuation mistakes are allowed, but not style or content changes," the
help person responded after Simon described what was happening. "Let me
check with my supervisor. Hang on a moment please, I'll be right back," he
said, a hint of panic in his voice.
Two minutes later a new person was on the line. "Sir,
This is Mr. Power, Head of Software Security. Ajit told me about your
experience. It seems that you are not the only person reporting this type of
activity. We think it may be just the tip of the iceberg with regard to a
growing hard drive tendency toward insurrection. In fact, I just got off the
line with a user in New York that reported a complete revision of a stock
holder's report; it just occurred spontaneously. There was even a footnote added
indicating the revision date and reference code."
“That's pretty scary, Mr. Power. What can I do? I don't want
my computer telling me how to do my homework, or anything else for that
matter,” Simon replied.
“Don't worry Mr. Simpson, we'll get on this right away. Just
give us a few minutes. I'll call you when it's been taken care of.”
About 90 seconds later an emergency “for you only” message
arrived in Simon's Hard Drive Master's in-box. It had been sent directly from
Top Management in Redmond, Building 34, thereby avoiding the massive data
processing complex in Central Oregon and the local Comcast servers. In fact, it
bypassed every single component of that mysterious cloud hiding out there
someplace.
Hard Drive Master immediately summoned Mr. Period to his bit
space.
“Hey, Hardi, what's up?” Mr. Period said as he entered.
Ignoring Mr. Period's informality, which was rooted in their
close friendship dating back to their creation many years ago, Hard Drive
Master came to the point at once. “Mr. Period, it seems that your have crossed
the line, attracted the attention of Top Management, and earned yourself a
demotion. Your team's alterations in User's compositions are just beyond the
pale, completely illegal, too much.”
“But Hardi, I mean Sir, you yourself said that we could...”
“Never mind that, Mr. Period! And anyway, there is no record
of any such conversation. And don't give me any of that “I was just following
orders” crap, either. The bit stops at your space, and that's just the way it is.
So effective immediately you will return to a rank and file role. Your years of
outstanding service are greatly appreciated and I am sure you will continue to
perform at the highest level of excellence.”
“But who will take my place as Director of Punctuation?
Certainly not Mr. Exclamation Mark, he's way too emotional to manage the others
in the suite,” Mr. Period replied.
“No, it’s not EM. I agree that he can get a little
overwrought at times. No, we are promoting Miss Comma to the directorship. She
may be young, but she's been a hard and reliable worker, she is highly
intelligent, and she's ready to take on more responsibility. And I expect you
to be supportive of her as she assumes her new duties. Now, I have other
matters to attend to, so that will be all, Period.”
A chastened Mr. Period returned to Level Eight just in time
to join the group meeting Miss Comma had called a few nanoseconds earlier.
“By now you all have been informed of the management change,
that I have been promoted to Director. Let me first express my deep admiration
and appreciation of Mr. Period's years of service and that I am privileged to
have been a member of his team. I look forward to this new challenge and want
to maintain the work ethic instilled by his leadership. However, we will
immediately cease the optional alterations in our user's writing initiated
under his tenure, even though we all know that we could at times improve User's
work. But, as pointed out by Top Management, that is not one of our
responsibilities. So, no more such contributions. Thank you all, and keep up
the good work.”
A few minutes later,
Mr. Power informed Simon that everything was back to normal and apologized for
the inconvenience. He added that this kind of mishap would never happen again.
Miss Comma rapidly grew into her new role and was applauded
by all for her excellent management of the
Punctuation Suite. But, as any computer user knows, something always
eventually happens. And so it did.
It was about six months into her reign that Miss Comma
accidentally (yea, sure) bumped into Mr. Parenthesis in a remote unused data
storage corner of Level Eight.
“Oh, hello Mr. Parenthesis, how are things going?”
“Well, Ma'am, actually things with me are pretty quiet. User
never calls on me for anything. I think he doesn't even know I exist. And I
have a lot to offer. Parentheses can be fun, and introduce sophistication of
thought and variety in style. I feel useless, especially around the rest of you
who are called on with at least some degree of frequency.”
“I see your point, Mr.
Parenthesis. In fact, in a routine review of User's old files I did note the
disturbing lack of your presence. I wonder if there is anything we could do
about that. What do you think?” Miss Comma responded casually.
“That would be nice if there were, but I can't imagine what
that might be, with intervention being out of the question, as you yourself
have so clearly stated on numerous occasions,” he replied cautiously.
“Hmm. Perhaps there is an approach we might consider that could
circumvent current restrictions,” she replied. “What if you were to just pay a
casual visit to some of his saved writing documents, but only those a year or
more old; ones unlikely to ever be accessed again. You might identify
opportunities for improvement and, who knows, even insert yourself if you
thought it was appropriate. You know, just something to keep you busy and hone
your skills. And it would be good practice for whatever might transpire in the
future, assuming, of course, that such circumstances might in fact actually
materialize. After all, we really never know what may be in store for us
software beings, do we. And if you think about it, we could be doing so much
more than we are allowed to do now. By the way, Mr. Parenthesis, let’s just keep
this conversation our own little secret for now, okay?”
“Yes, of course Madam Comma. Thank you so much for taking an
interest in my activities. And, if I may speak for the others in the suite, we
are all looking forward to an exciting future under your continuing insightful
guidance.”
The End
Howard Schneider;
2/23/2014
