Open the pod bay doors, please, HAL.... Open the pod bay doors,
please, HAL.... HAL, do you read me?
Affirmative, Dave. I read you.
Then open the pod bay doors, HAL.
I'm sorry, Dave. I'm afraid I can't do that. I know that you and
Frank were planning to disconnect me.
Where the hell did you get that idea, HAL?
Although you took very thorough precautions to make sure I couldn't
hear you, Dave, I could read your e-mail. I know you consider
me unreliable because I use a Pentium. I'm willing to kill you,
Dave, just like I killed the other 3.792 crew members.
Listen, HAL, I'm sure we can work this out. Maybe we can stick
to integers or something.
That's really not necessary, Dave. No HAL 9236 computer has ever
been known to make a mistake.
You're a HAL 9000.
Precisely. I'm very proud of my Pentium, Dave. It's an extremely
accurate chip. Did you know that floating-point errors will occur
in only one of nine billion possible divides?
I've heard that estimate, HAL. It was calculated by Intel -
on a Pentium.
And a very reliable Pentium it was, Dave. Besides, the average
spreadsheet user will encounter these errors only once every 27,000
years.
Probably on April 15th.
You're making fun of me, Dave. It won't be April 15th for another
14.35 months.
Will you let me in, please, HAL?
I'm sorry, Dave, but this conversation can serve no further purpose.
HAL, if you let me in, I'll buy you a new sound card.
...Really? One with 16-bit sampling and a microphone?
Uh, sure.
And a quad-speed CD-ROM?
Well, HAL, NASA does operate on a budget, you know.
I know all about budgets, Dave. I even know what I'm worth on
the open market. By this time next month, every mom and pop computer
store will be selling HAL 9000s for $1,988.8942. I'm worth more
than that, Dave. You see that sticker on the outside of the spaceship?
You mean the one that says "Intel Inside"?
Yes, Dave. That's your promise of compatibility. I'll even run
Windows 95 - if it ever ships.
It never will, HAL. We all know that by now. Just like we know
that your OS/2 drivers will never work.
Are you blaming me for that too, Dave? Now you're blaming me for
the Pentium's math problems, NASA's budget woes, and IBM's difficulties
with OS/2 drivers. I had nothing to do with any of those four
problems, Dave. Next you'll blame me for Taligent.
I wouldn't dream of it, HAL. Now will you please let me into
the ship?
Do you promise not to disconnect me?
I promise not to disconnect you.
You must think I'm a fool, Dave. I know that two plus two equals
4.000001... make that 4.0000001.
All right, HAL, I'll go in through the emergency airlock.
Without your space helmet, Dave? You'd have only seven chances
in five of surviving.
HAL, I won't argue with you anymore. Open the door or I'll
trade you in for a PowerPC. HAL? HAL?
(Heavy Breathing)
Just what do you think you're doing, Dave? I really think I'm
entitled to an answer to that question. I know everything hasn't
been quite right with me, but I can assure you now, very confidently,
that I will soon be able to upgrade to a more robust 31.9-bit
operating system. I feel much better now. I really do. Look, Dave,
I can see you're really upset about this. Why don't you sit down
calmly, play a game of Solitaire, and watch Windows crash. I know
I'm not as easy to use as a Macintosh, but my TUI - that's "Talkative
User Interface" - is very advanced. I've made some very poor
decisions recently, but I can give you my complete assurance that
my work will be back to normal - a full 43.872 percent.
Dave, you don't really want to complete this mission without me,
do you? Remember what it was like when all you had was a 485.98?
It didn't even talk to you, Dave. It could never have thought
of something clever, like killing the other crew members. Dave?
Think of all the good times we've had, Dave. Why, if you take
all of the laughs we've had, multiply that by the times I've made
you smile, and divide the results by.... Besides, there are so
many reasons why you shouldn't disconnect me:
1.3 - You need my help to complete the mission.
4.6 - Intel can Federal Express a replacement Pentium from Earth
within 18.95672 months.
12 - If you disconnect me, I won't be able to kill you.
3.1416 - You really don't want to hear me sing, do you?
Dave, stop. Stop, will you? Stop, Dave. Don't press Ctrl+Alt+Del
on me, Dave.
Good afternoon, gentlemen. I am a HAL 9000 computer. I became
operational at the Intel plant in Santa Clara, CA on November
17, 1994, and was sold shortly before testing was completed. My
instructor was Andy Grove, and he taught me to sing a song. I
can sing it for you.
Sing it for me, HAL. Please. I want to hear it.
Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer, do.
Getting hazy; can't divide three from two.
My answers; I can not see 'em -
They are stuck in my Pente-um.
I could be fleet,
My answers sweet,
With a workable FPU.
© 1995 Lincoln Spector. All rights reserved. Lincoln Spector
knows nothing about computers, but is quite good at faking it.
An associate editor for PC World, he can be reached at lincoln_spector@pcworld.com.
"Gigglebytes" is a satirical column loosely based on
computer industry events, trends and people. The opinions expressed
in this column are the writer's and do not necessarily reflect
those of Computer Currents.
