Why I Uninstalled Windows Vista

A loyal Windows user reaches his final straws with the glitzy new operating system
By Elroi Yee

I am a Mac virgin. I am a Linux virgin too. In fact, only Windows has had the pleasure of my computing. My fidelity is bliss.

In an era of quickie marriages and quickie-er divorces, where promiscuousness is flaunted with nary a blush, my e-fidelity does seem strange. But statistics seem to agree with it, with more than 90% of computer users staying faithful to one of Windows’ many operating systems (OS). It is so popular that “Windows” can quite legitimately be used interchangeably with “operating system”.

Since democracy is today’s religion, majority wins. And Windows is whitewashing the opposition. As of February this year, eight of the top eleven most used operating systems bear the Windows family name. The number one operating system, Windows XP, holds a mind-boggling 85% of the entire market, despite even its producers admitting that it is rather dated.

Windows Vista is the most recent incarnation of the mediocre software. It was stuck in the pipeline long enough to justify its phallic codename Longhorn. But in spite of the Microsoft marketing team’s carefully orchestrated hype—or perhaps because of it—Vista’s eventual release late in January 2007 was an anti-climax. Users worldwide agreed it was the same old, same old, just under umpteen more layers of glitter and gloss. The rumours circulating the web ever since the beta version of Vista was released in 2006, that essentially declared Vista as a shameless rip-off, were proving to be true.

Yet there is still overwhelming demand for the underwhelming OS. We continue to flock like moths to the flame at Mr. Gates’ behest. And since I knew of no other platform on which to perform my computing, I too flocked. But I flocked to the nearby pasar malam instead, and got my copy of Longhorn the OS from a talking skeleton. A good night’s entertainment that was similarly titled surely beckoned.

Installing Vista was no harder than the average software installation. Within minutes, I had upgraded from XP to Vista, and as far as first impressions go, the latest Microsoft offering promised much. The slick new Windows Aero graphic user interface was stunning, with liberal garnishes of eye candy throughout. At the push of the Win + Tab keys, I was introduced to Windows Flip 3D, Vista’s way of letting users browse multiple windows (all in translucent glory for that extra class). The desktop sidebar, where a variety of gadgets from reminder-note applications to real-time international weather information can be displayed, looked potentially useful for the office.

Things were looking up.

“YOUR POTENTIAL. OUR PASSION.”
The Windows OS has made Microsoft into perhaps the most ubiquitous brand in the world today. It’s every-bloody-where as it is now. A history of plagiarism and dubious marketing tactics ensures that, in spite of the distinct nerdiness of founder Bill Gates, suspicious glances from the paranoid will continue to probe for outward signs of the evil-incarnate he allegedly is. His devious plans, they would tell you, include bundling first Internet Explorer, then Windows Media Player, with its flagship Windows OS—both softwares being blatant bids to drown the competition out. He then took the wonderful miracle that is the MP3 audio format, traumatised it in his lair, and regurgitated it as WMA. Then there is Windows Messenger, which is spreading like deadly algae across the online world, smothering first Skype, then Yahoo! Messenger, then the kitchen sink.

Paranoia aside, it does seem that the Microsoft master plan is to take any and every formula that works, slap a Microsoft logo on it, and pin it to whatever version of Windows is current. Simple but ruthlessly effective. Since more than almost all computers today run on this OS, software bundled with it will by extension garner the lion’s share of the market, rendering the competition impotent. You can call it anti-competition or clever marketing, but whichever side of the fence you reside, Windows is still the pillar on which the digital world will be built for the foreseeable future.

This makes the release of each new version of a Windows product a momentous occasion. Thousands line up outside stores, like pilgrims coming to glimpse a sacred relic. The hype is not in anticipation of the fresh, innovative functions Microsoft will incorporate, but rather because each release inevitably signifies a shift in our computing habits, and end users like you and I, interminably stuck on Windows, simply need to know how significant the shift will be.

For example, somewhere along the line Microsoft decided that Windows Media Player will not rip CDs in MP3 format; therefore I, as the end user, will have to listen to copies of my favourite albums in WMA format, unless I download another software, which I am loathe to do since I paid good money for this Windows package and would want to use it for all its worth. In the same vein, every new version comes with a little tweak here, a little nudge there, each of which forces us to shuffle our feet to get back in sync with the Microsoft tune. But the bespectacled piper continues to toot, and we follow, begrudging him little, because we feel he has bestowed upon us the modern personal computer. Such was my case with Vista. There seemed like no other option.

THE FORBIDDEN FRUIT
That is, until a friend introduced me to his brand new, super-stylish MacBook Pro. As Mac users are wont to do, he pounced on every opportunity to showcase his machine. He has always had a habit of interjecting, at every computer-related discussion, something along the lines of “That would run faster on a Mac”, or “That problem would never surface on a Mac”, or “Someday Macs will save the world”, all delivered with the cool nonchalance of a user completely confident with his tools of choice. This time, he flaunted various graphic designs, animations and video clips, all of which were created with the intuition and power that only Macs can provide. Things were further exacerbated by that nifty bag with which he toted his fashion statement cum tech-toy, which somehow always matched his fashionably rugged tees. It was simply too cool to reckon with.

Faced with a significantly superior and infinitely more original product, my murmurs of discontent towards Vista became increasingly voluble. The Mac OS X proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that Gates and his cohorts don’t spend their time in futuristic labs with hydraulic doors that open with a ’swoosh’ or work with bunny-suited people to invent ground-breaking software for the benefit of humankind. They merely sit with their legs up waiting for Apple to do it.

My fidelity was bliss. But now, enlightened, I realised that I was just old-fashioned.

HASTA LA VISTA
Post-enlightenment and at home, I sat staring daggers at the translucent-windows crap of Vista. I was reminded of all the times when my PC reacted so darn slowly. Windows Vista simply ate up too much RAM, unlike its streamlined Apple counterpart. I was reminded of the many who had installed Vista but were forced to run it in Windows Vista Standard or Basic mode—which required less memory, but would then basically be the same as Windows XP. Each user would have wasted RM10, I thought (or lots more, of course, if they bought the original copy). I suddenly realised how stupid it was for the programmers at Microsoft to include a clock as one of the desktop gadgets available, considering there has been a clock on the Windows taskbar since time immemorial. And I couldn’t help but feel pity for the developers of Mozilla FireFox and Opera, who had their ingenious ‘tabbed browsing‘ idea taken and crudely rehashed without even a word of thanks.

And then there was Microsoft Office 2007. Although it isn’t technically part of Windows Vista, I couldn’t help but think of them as a single entity, since they were released together as part of Microsoft’s two-pronged assault. For whatever reason, and probably on the advice of some guy in a bunny suit, Microsoft had decided to change the layout of the buttons. Now, the interface has the intuition of a bullock cart. The majority of the buttons are contained in a strange ‘Start’ button at the top left corner that I mistook for weeks as a graphic for décor purposes, leaving me to search high and low for the ‘Save As’ button.

It was final. I decided that I had spent my life doing what others told me to, and I would no longer submit to the majority just because they are the majority. If policemen couldn’t stop me from running red lights, neither could the long-distance arm twisting of a geek hellbent on world domination usurp from me the freedom to choose. I refused to be carried along by the tide of humanity any longer. Montages of me giving back-slaps to fellow non-conformists like my Mac-using friend flashed through my mind.

I moved to uninstall the offending OS. Even at this stage, Windows annoyed me. They make it almost impossible to uninstall their software, unless you are replacing it with another one of their brood. But as the screen popped up with what seemed to me a rhetorical question—“Are you sure somethingsomethingsomething?”—I did my best impression of Clint Eastwood in his Unforgiven days, uttering “Up yours, Bill”, and sent Vista spiraling into digital oblivion.

Then, I quickly re-installed Windows XP.