I “may be a victim of software counterfeiting.” I don’t know that I’d use the word “victim” so much as “participant.”
Although the copy of Windows on my computer at this time was purchased from a non-licensed dealer on the internet, I do, in fact, own a copy of this exact version of Windows. I just can’t find it. It’s in one of a multitude of safe places. When my computer went on the rampage and ate itself, Hal searched for our disc, legally purchased. No luck finding it. So, he “salvaged” a copy from a recycler on the internet. And now, I have a warning that pops up every few screens that lets me know that I can, in fact, buy a legal version of any Microsoft product I want to use.
That’s the funny part, because I don’t, actually, want to use any Microsoft product. But I also want to be able to interface easily with other programs. And I don’t want to spend a bazillion dollars on a Mac. So, here I am, cheap and illegal, sort of like many men’s dream girl, except instead of getting a free meal, I’m stuck with a black desktop and threatening letters from my friend Bill.
Speaking of computers, a thousand years ago, way back in the ‘80’s, a friend of mine who called himself “Spidey” tried to convince me to start using this great new friend-getter called the Web. I told him I thought it was absolutely stupid, to type out messages to people he’d never even met, people who disguised their names and who were often rude or a thousand miles away. I said it would never catch on. And that, folks, is why I don’t play the stock market.
Well, that and the fact that I’m too busy searching for my legal version of Windows.