bill gates linux magic beanstalks

Of Beanstalks, Linux and Bill Gates

A while back my uncle who lived in Michigan died. Finally after years of probate, the will was read and I learned that he had bequ--- beakw--- willed me a cabin in the woods. So I was given a week off work and drove my old Volvo to check it out.

It was a rather large cabin, more like a hunting lodge, the rustic walls adorned with heads of dead animals who looked down accusingly upon me, and a big stone fireplace.

One of the first things I saw was the safe. There were the usual things to be expected, old letters, receipts from Frederick's of Hollywood, Penthouse renewal reminders, some inexpensive costume jewelry.

I decided to open a beer (a toast to my dear Unk) and fire up my pipe. Looking for an ashtray I saw a small metal can in the safe. It had something in it that looked like some old beans in it so I emptied it out the window.

I spent the rest of the evening exploring the cabin and since dear old Unk was such a great guy it seemed that the right thing to do would be to toast him (if he weren't already) a few more times which I did with great gusto. Finally I fell asleep.

I was awakened next morning by the sound of something brushing up against the cabin wall, and while I know you aren't gonna believe this, it was some kind of large plant. That hadn't been there the night before.

I went out to have a look and damned if the thing didn't extend up so far it was lost in the dense fog so well known on frosty Michigan mornings. And naturally, my first reaction was to climb it. I reached for one of the lower branches when a small door popped open and a synthesizes voice demanded an access code. Well, being a hacker, I knew how to deal with such pathetic attempts at access control. I went back inside and returned with a boom box and blasted it with heavy metal for fifteen minutes. Buffer overflow. Worked like a charm.

Up up and away I climbed until that damned mechanical voice advised that I had reached the first level. Hardware, toddlers needs, and geeks. It was also the data processing area.

A door opened and here was this big flat surreal plane with a black and white checkered tile floor and on the walls were clocks that looked like they were melting. All around me on the floor were hundreds of notebook computers, which had little wheels, and they were chasing each other around like bumper cars. Every now and then, one computer with a Linux Red Hat logo on the screen would fire a laser beam at the others, breaking their Windows. My, what fun.

Then I noticed on the far wall, beneath a portrait of Abbie Hoffman, there was a strange looking machine. As I approached it, it quacked at me and LEDs started blinking. Then a keyboard emerged from the bottom of the device. The hacker in me took over and I started attempting to access the weird device.

After a few more tries I hit it. And then a small gold coin popped out and clanged on the floor. It was a Krugerrand! An ounce of gold! Quickly I hit the ^ key to macro the last command and another coin popped out. I was so excited I barely heard the strange music coming out of nowhere. When I asked the machine why I wasn't getting the golden eggs I had sort of expected I was advised that it was due to the troubled economy and that I could trade the coins in for 100 shares of RHAT common stock.

Suddenly the floor started to shake. In the distance I saw the figure of an evil entity wearing nerd glasses, emerging from the fog and speaking in a thundering voice

Fee! Fie! Foe! Fum!
I smell the blood of a Linuxman.
Be he 'live, or be he dead,
I'll grind his bones to make my bread.

Quickly I ran back out the door and began frantically climbing down the huge plant, the monster not far behind. As I neared the ground, suddenly the massive plant began swaying wildly and then crashed onto the ground. I leapt free at the last second, falling twenty feet which knocked the breath out of me. And a few yards away, lay the Evil One, who I instantly recognized. And somehow I knew there would be No Joy In Redmond.

But, I was safe. Alive and unharmed.

Standing there, smug expressions on their faces were three guys in hard hats, carrying chain saws and wearing badges identifying them as being from the new combined Department of Homeland Security and Environmental Protection Agency. They handed me a citation for growing a beanstalk without first filing an environmental impact report.

I went back inside to drink a beer and smoke my pipe, and as I went to empty the improvised ashtray I saw that there was still one of those beans left.

Well, after that ordeal and the sudden realization that I have acrophobia, I decided I didn't want any part of that damn bean. I was well enough off, my job, the cabin and a pocket full of Krugerrands to boot.

So, I have decided to auction off this magic bean. All proceeds will go to the SMHF. (Shannon Memorial Heineken Fund)

Do I hear…