Technically Incorrect

I want to be a force for good. Doesn't everyone?

Which is why I was delighted to be moved by the words of Microsoft's Bill Gates during a CNBC TV special in which he and Warren Buffett discussed the meaning of life. Or something similar.

Asked by an audience member what he thought of Steve Jobs and Apple, Gates began with an insouciant smile.

Then he tossed garlands of roses and pearls of praise at the Apple co-founder.

He said: "He's done a fantastic job."

Which was charming in itself. But he continued to describe how Jobs saved Apple: "He brought in a team, he brought in inspiration about great products and design that's made Apple back into being an incredible force in doing good things."

So, from now on, everyone who happens to be a fanperson of either brand should seek out one of his or her supposed mortal enemies, hold hands with them and see if, together, they cannot try to be a force for good things too.

Corporations can be heinous places. All day, people wander around, playing politics like so many Lindsay Lohans in "Mean Girls."

So today, one wonders just what machinations are being endured by Simon Aldous, the Microsoft Partner Group manager who was Wednesday quoted by PCR as suggesting that Windows 7 was rather inspired by the simplicity of the Mac OS. Indeed, Aldous declared that Microsoft's new operating system was designed to "create a Mac look."

In what appears to be a somewhat hurriedly written post on the Windows Team blog titled, "How we really designed the look and feel of Windows 7," Microsoft showed that perhaps some of its underwear is currently a little twisted.

The post read: "An inaccurate quote has been floating around the Internet today about the design origins of Windows 7 and whether its look and feel was 'borrowed' from Mac OS X."

This would suggest that Aldous was, in fact, misquoted.

However, the post, written by Brandon LeBlanc, continued, "Unfortunately, this came from a Microsoft employee who was not involved in any aspect of designing Windows 7. I hate to say this about one of our own, but his comments were inaccurate and uninformed."

"I'm Steve Jobs, and Windows 7 was my idea?"

(Credit: Stephen Shankland/CNET)

Some would therefore now conclude that he was quoted accurately, but he didn't quite get his facts right. This is entirely possible, though one might wonder why he would have made comments with a ring of such endearing honesty.

However, perhaps the most interesting aspect of this Windows Team post is a comment left by someone with the handle "i-dont-do-tat".

This commenter wrote: "I know Simon Aldous, having worked in the same U.K. subsidiary as him for a few years. He's a good guy who, for me, is telling it like it is. He's paying testament to the common view that a Mac is cool and a great template to copy."

As many in the world of business will tell you, copying happens all the time. The competition is scrutinized religiously, and the best articles of faith are taken and sometimes even improved. This happens in every product category.

The "i-dont-do-tat" poster concluded that perhaps honesty might not be such a bad thing: "Denying this to your customers just makes you look stupid because the very look and feel of Windows 7 is desperately trying to look like a Mac OS--just admit it."

Oh, of course one mightn't expect honesty in the mass-market arena. It is a very dangerous place in which to say anything at all. Equally, though, in a tech world interview, perhaps a little nod toward the opposition is not such a bad thing. It might even lull it into a little complacent smugness.

One can only hope that Simon Aldous had a good breakfast Thursday and that he hasn't endured any untoward communications. Unless it's a job offer from Apple, of course, which he should accept only if the company gives him a better deal and appears to come from nicer people.

That's how the corporate world works, you see. Like high school, it's all temporary, so you have to make the most of it while you can.

Sometimes you take a wrong turning in life and, Wednesday, a slight concussion led my eyes to fall upon the pages of PCR.

It is a little more intelligent than my normal reading matter, but I am very grateful for its interview with Simon Aldous, Microsoft's partner group manager.

He was quoted, for example, as saying: "One of the things that people say an awful lot about the Apple Mac is that the OS is fantastic, that it's very graphical and easy to use."

Perfect harmony?

(Credit: CC Esparta/Flickr)

You're waiting for the punchline, right? You know, the one about how he was kidding.

Wait away because he continued: "What we've tried to do with Windows 7--whether it's traditional format or in a touch format--is create a Mac look and feel in terms of graphics."

I know that such words might cause some entrenched foot soldiers in both of the fanchildren camps to hoot, hiss, sigh and reach for the nearest farming implement.

However, isn't it rather charming to hear someone admit that a competitor's product isn't overly expensive or overly pretentious, but that it has something about it that is good and that real people who buy real products actually appreciate?

There are many ways of showing respect to those you don't actually respect.

So it's touching to see that Apple has not only produced a few "Get A Mac" ads to darken the hearts of those about to upgrade to Windows 7, but has also donned its Wellington boots, gone down on its knees, and offered a dig in the grubby world of search.

I am grateful to The Next Web, who discovered that Cupertino has been throwing a few grenades into Google searches such as "Download Windows 7" and "Windows 7 download."

(Credit: The Next Web)

While one naturally expects to see ads for Microsoft stores adorning these searches, Apple has slipped in ads that suggest the best way to upgrade to Windows 7 is to actually purchase something from the Apple family.

Some might find it amusing simply that Apple is using such a tactic. But perhaps others will be a little disappointed that the wording for the ad is so straight. No jibes. No subtle suggestions that Windows 7 is merely a Manchurian macrame version of Vista. Not even a hint that Windows 7 will make you more miserable than eggnog ice tea.

How sad.

Have you ever been hurt by a lover who went back to her ex?

Have you ever experienced that constant troubling frisson, even when you were with them, that it was only a matter of time?

Well, might I offer you a little televisual solace? Jerry Seinfeld, he who walked a mile in Bill Gates' shoes with the man himself, has gone back to his first wife, the Mac.

It seems almost a movie from an alien world to remember Jerry and Bill buying shoes and moving in with a normal American family.

I know some found these ads bizarre. I found that a good thing. And a very good thing for Microsoft. These movies were a delight, a departure, a signal of something that was finally different, a signal that someone was, well, thinking different.

Yes, they didn't last. They were, perhaps too daring for their time and their brand. But they were more viral than the "I'm a PC" campaign.

So to now discover that Seinfeld has appeared on HBO's "Curb Your Enthusiasm" with a MacBook Pro craftily centered on his desk is to experience something akin to a kitchen knife being sharpened upon one's spine by a recently fired busboy.

You can see a still over at TUAW, because I am too disturbed to show it here.

Although I have embedded a little waffle from Seinfeld and his co-starring minions explaining their enthusiasm for "Curb"'s Larry David.

However, if it is, indeed, remotely true that Seinfeld was paid $10 million for his aborted Microsoft ads, one might have hoped that he would have wondered if it was quite right to be seen with a Mac again so quickly.

Unless, of course, Apple paid him $15 million. Which they wouldn't. The company would have been more ready for him to pay it. So, Jerry, love "Curb Your Enthusiasm". But did you really have to? Did you?

The jingle competition held recently by Microsoft must be tattooed to the tips of your tongues.

For those who might have been attending a serious yoga retreat at the time, a man called Jonathan Mann won $500 for a ditty that some described using a word that rhymes with ditty.

It seemed to me to be rather good business at the time. Microsoft spent very little money and received much publicity. However, some new footage of the Bing jingle being performed has struck me in the eyes and buried itself in my worried parts.

You see, it features many, many children from the Keith Valley Middle School in the non-Amish region of Pennsylvania singing the jingle, dancing to the jingle and wearing uniform T-shirts imported from the Left Coast.

I know I should find this charming. I know that I should consider this an educational initiative that engaged a bunch of kids and prevented them from spending hours listening to overstressed, underpaid teachers who dream of lottery wins and Barbadian beaches.

So why is my inner Netflix suddenly bringing to my attention footage of Romanian schoolchildren circa 1963? Why is my inner screen projecting a 1959 appearance by Nikita Khruschev at one of outer Moscow's fine collective farms?

Why do I find this Bing footage slightly peculiar? Please help me. Does my Eastern European heritage make me overly sensitive to this kind of thing? Do your children pay homage to Microsoft by singing the Bing jingle while waving their arms around at school too?

Perhaps you are one of those who saves your credit card information on your Xbox remote so you can buy points at the very time your mood demands them. Perhaps you also have a dog. Then this story from Fox News will be important to you.

Greg Strope and Christine Payne of Richmond, Va., were lying in bed one night, when Greg got an e-mail from Microsoft. No, Redmond wasn't wondering if they'd like to buy a slightly used copy of Windows 7. Nor was this a late-night Bing jingle phone karaoke invitation.

Did I mention Greg was in bed? And that Christine was with him and his Xbox wasn't? Oh, and that he didn't check his phone that night? This is relevant information. Because the next morning Greg went downstairs and checked his phone to discover that the e-mail was a thank you from Microsoft for purchasing 5,000 Xbox points. Greg was somewhat flummoxed, as the time of purchase seemed to coincide with the time he was in bed.

Then he espied his Xbox remote. He detected a little spittle. The spittle was not his own, nor that of his beloved, nor even that of his roommate, who had also been in bed at the time. The spittle belonged to Oscar, his dog.

Perhaps Oscar had sudden urges to buy some new game content. Because there was no other explanation as to who had made the Xbox purchase. "The only living creature that could have done it was the dog," he said.

Greg surmised that Oscar had pawed at the remote with such beginner's good fortune that he had successfully spent $62.50.

Greg didn't even attempt to persuade Microsoft there had been a mistake. However, he did tell Fox News: "I just wish they'd make it a little harder to purchase points."

Oh, Greg. Retail doesn't work that way. It's there to make purchasing easier. Try sending Oscar to your local 7/11 and see what he comes back with.

Art knows no boundaries. Neither does the level of emotion inspired by an assault on the culture of Apple.

Just last week, Verizon's Droid attempted to offer a hearty dose of spittle to the iPhone, so one upset Apple aficionado has decided that the Good Empire must strike back.

He has created a YouTube rebuttal that, he believes, offers some perspective.

He says: "iDon't need scare tactics." He says: "iDon't need to imitate." And he declares that the force is with him because "iDon't need a Droid...unless it's R2D2."

Sometimes it's hard to reach the decision that one doesn't need a product whose buttons one has never pushed.

However, one is touched that this person's heart is in an honest and sensitive place. Until, that is, one reads the line that says: "iDon't buy brands that bash other brands."

Perhaps my senses have left me for a well-deserved vacation on Pluto, but I seem to recall Apple rather merrily bashing Microsoft and, indeed, PCs in general, for quite some time now. The Cupertino company does it very well, often with an exalted level of wit.

Yes, as some readers have pointed out, he does offer an "iOops" as a signal to a certain irony.

But this movie still might leave viewers, rather like those who braved "Showgirls" and "Vanilla Sky," somewhat less than fulfilled.

Perhaps, like me, you always turn to your left when you board a plane.

Not because first class is that way, but merely to take a quick look at the pilots to see what they're doing and whether there's the faintest whiff of spliff or Johnny Walker wafting from their cabin.

So I am fascinated beyond excitement at what two Northwest Airlines pilots might have been doing on their laptops Wednesday night.

You see, these experienced men, Richard Cole and Timothy Cheney, were piloting a red eye from San Diego to Minneapolis when they seem to have forgotten to take in the final Minneapolis part of the journey.

They were somewhere over Wisconsin when, according to The New York Times, a flight attendant happened to call them, with a vaguely relevant question about the time of arrival. The time of arrival at Minneapolis, a city they had already overflown some time before.

You might imagine that the pilots had fallen asleep. Your suggestion is supported by the fact that they seem not to have responded to repeated entreaties from air traffic controllers for a chat.

Tests have reportedly shown that the pilots were not drunk. In interviews with concerned members of law enforcement, Cole and Cheney reportedly said they were on their laptops discussing a new scheduling system.

You see, they are Northwest pilots who now are under the Delta banner. And Delta does things a little differently.

I suspect you might scoff at this explanation.

You see, they had allegedly pulled out their personal laptops, which is a violation of Northwest policy, Delta policy and, one imagines, the policy of every airline bar. (Except, perhaps, Southwest, whose pilots wear leather jackets, strut through airports as if they have just returned from the Battle of Britain, and always seem to be having a jolly good time.)

We should therefore wonder what Cole and Cheney might have been doing. I have canvassed some of the brightest minds to come up with these suggestions.

One very lucid mind suggested quite simply that they were watching a ballgame. Another offered that they had uploaded a "How to lie effectively" video. And a third feels sure they were watching the classic Hilary Duff video "Wake Up," which I have embedded here for your delectation.

I fear some of you might be tempted towards the heinous thought that they were watching material of a sleazily sultry nature.

I cannot be so cynical. It is simply not in my nature. It seems so obvious to me what happened here that I cannot believe no one with a right mind and a left brain has reached the same conclusion.

Cheney, the pilot, was quite clearly a PC user (I just cannot imagine a Cheney using a Mac), while his Cole-pilot was a firm fanboy of the Mac. Like little boys comparing their trading card collections, they whipped out their laptops so that they could convert each other.

We all know just what a long conversation this will have been. The obstinacy of both sides is often so extreme that the parties might forget they are in the air, in a plane, or even flying a plane.

As Cheney proselytized about Windows 7, Cole counter-punched with some Snow Leopard. And before they knew it, Wisconsin waved at them from below while their passengers wondered what time they might descend from on high.

I feel sure that the next "Get a Mac" ad will feature Messrs. Hodgman and Long as Northwest pilots who want to settle this debate once and for all. By the end of the spot, they will be grappling in the cockpit and the plane will be ready to land in Minsk.

One can dream, can't one? Just as pilots do when they inadvertently fall asleep.