Black Screen of Death: A Meditation on Windows Vista

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Blackness of screen. Cold. Blank. Unyielding as a 100-year-old tree trunk to a toy hatchet. Glittering blue lights wink from the keyboard, evidence of life within. Mr. Gates, where do I find the missing puzzle piece? How do I unlock the impenetrable surface? It hides my words, music, sunsets over Mexican beaches. Blank. Cold. Blackness of screen.

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