ThatOtherOS™

It might be BeOS.

Perhaps it’s NeXTStep. It might be System 38.

It might be Mach, maybe VMS, possibly Plan 9 or Symbian or QNX or VXWorks. But those are all too easy to pronounce.

Even though my Mission On Earth is to persuade all of you sad, sad, sinners NOT TO BUY ThatOtherOS™, I just cannot bring myself to name it. It’s like Yahweh! Both God and Aleister Crowley agree with me on this one! DO NOT mention THE NAME!

I can’t say it. I just can’t. The heavens will fall, because Chicken Little says so. It’s called … no no no, I just can’t. Horrible things will happen. My mole will metastasise into a werewolf. My pet budgie will acquire supernatural powers. I, myself, will be turned into Robert Pogson.

This must never happen! I must never mention the term “Windows,” unless, that is, I immediately douse myself with garlic ice-cream and point out that I need some putty and a bit of glass. (I’m feeling better now. Don’t sniff my armpits, because I think I overdid the garlic ice-cream. I’d like the glass of putty with a frappucino and chocolate sprinkle topping, please.)

And it isn’t childish, it isn’t at all. It’s exactly what primitive societies have always done. If it’s good enough for neanderthals, it’s good enough for me.