At precisely what point did we (i.e., computer users) inform software vendors that we're incorrigibly hopeless morons? Ok, so asking which key was the "any key" wasn't such a bright idea. I grant that. And I can honestly say that I've provided technical support to people who really did ask that question, as well as using the CD-ROM for a coffee-cup holder, the mouse for a foot pedal, and a host of other idiotic things. But the issue that has me positively frothing with rage at present is that of stupid, niggling, useless confirmations piled upon the user like they're going out of style. At precisely what point did we ask for this torture? At precisely what point did software vendors decide (stupidly) that we needed it?
This has been building within me for so long, I'm not even sure when it all began. I used to be sane, you know. Honestly, I was as rational as any man. And in truth, I still am in my dealings with people and the rest of the analog world. But some time after I started using computers—and more specifically some time after I started using Microsoft Windows and all the awful dreck that runs on it—I started to develop a temper the likes of which few in the world ever see when it comes to stupid machines. Tonight I tried to update my copy of Microsoft Office 2000 to the latest service pack (service pack three for sake of reference), and it asked me for confirmation no less than six times! The ongoing dialogue between man and machine went something like the following.
| Me: | Let's see, I select the desired update(s) and press the button to apply them. There. That should do the trick. |
| Computer: |
Are you sure you want to do that? |
| Me: | Yup, I'm sure, moron, otherwise I wouldn't have clicked all the pretty buttons. |
| Computer: | I'm about to install the selected updates. Are you sure you want to continue? |
| Me: | Yes. Now sod off and install the updates. |
| Computer: | Here's a license agreement just slightly longer than the Bible. Do you accept? |
| Me: | Yes, whatever, for the love of God and all that's holy, just apply the updates! |
| Computer: | I'm about to download the updates. Press OK to continue. |
| Me: | Yes! Fine! Shut the hell up and update my computer! |
| Computer: | The updates downloaded successfully. I'm about to install. Press OK to continue. |
| Me: | YES! YES! FOR THE FIFTH BLOODY TIME, YES! SHUT THE HELL UP AND UPDATE MY COMPUTER! |
| Computer: | The updates installed successfully. Your computer needs to be restarted. Is this alright? |
| Me: | NO! IT'S NOT ALRIGHT! YOU'VE ASKED ME FIVE STUPIDLY REDUNDANT QUESTIONS ALREADY, AND THERE'S NO REASON IN HELL I SHOULD HAVE TO REBOOT AFTER UPDATING YOUR WORTHLESS APPLICATIONS ANYWAY! (the remainder of my reply devolves at this point into unspeakably foul gibbering which is simply not reproducible) |
What full-up bloody idiot at Microsoft designed that horrible sequence? What incomparable fool thought it was a good idea to ask the user six separate times whether he really wanted to update his computer? Could someone please own up to this, so that I and every other user with at least one-quarter of a wit can hunt you down and kill you as slowly and painfully as possible? Please?! Anyone who comes forward and fingers the responsible party (or parties) is welcome to their liver(s), kidneys, and any other organs in which you might be interested. Anyone?
Sure, people make mistakes. That fine, and I realize that. Having a quick "Are you sure you really want to reformat your hard drive?" question is a good idea. It will keep Aunt Minnie from turning her nice new computer into a boat anchor. Asking me six freaking times whether I really want to install the latest drivel-pack from Microsoft, however, is not merely excessive, it's a crime against computing. It's also certainly a crime against intelligence. This probably wouldn't bug me so much if I didn't already have to put up with this crap in every other application as well. For example, I tried deleting a bunch of files earlier today, and I got something similar. That conversation was roughly as follows.
| Me: | Delete this folder. |
| Computer: | Are you sure you want to do that? |
| Me: | Yup, I'm sure. |
| Computer: | The file such-and-so-one is marked read only. Are you sure you want to delete it? |
| Me: | Yes to all such questions, faithful moron. Just delete the bloody files. |
| Computer: | The file such-and-so-two is a system file. Deleting it may cause the computer to stop working. Are you sure you want to delete it? |
| Me: | Yes to all again, you idiot. I'm sure I want to delete it. Shut the hell up and delete these files! |
| Computer: | The folder such-and-so-three is a hidden or system folder. Deleting it may cause the computer to stop working. Are you sure you want to delete it? |
| Me: | AAAAAUUUUUUUGGGGGGHHHHHHH! |
Is it really too much to ask to have a way to configure these settings? Maybe most computer users really are just slightly dumber than the average fungus, but I'm not. When I delete a file, I want the damned thing deleted, and I don't want to answer a host of stupid confirmation prompts again and again. I just want to kick off the delete process and let it run. It's not like the file is really gone anyway. Windows insists on moving the blasted things to the recycle bin, so that I can always restore them if I made a mistake.
Am I the only user who is tired of being treated like a mindless vegetable by software? Or are the rest of you too busy dismissing similar confirmation dialogs to complain?
11/20/2002