I’m sorry, your honor. I didn’t mean to storm into the offices of the KnowSuch Komputer Kompany and bludgeon the president, Lars Proffitt, with a keyboard. But before you sentence me, please listen to my story.

Until six months ago, I had never used a computer. I wanted to get onto the Internet so I could talk to my friends, most of whom wouldn’t return my phone calls because they were only using e-mail. But I couldn’t afford a computer and that was that.

Then I heard that KnowSuch Komputers was offering free PCs. All you had to do was fill out a form, sign up for their Internet service for five years, and agree to stare at onscreen advertising for ten hours a week while repeating catchy slogans out loud.

Three months later, the PC arrived. I eagerly threw everything off of my desk, opened the box, and pulled out a sheaf of paper that could choke Microsoft’s legal department. The bulk of it was the User Agreement. That’s right, your honor, exhibit 25. I’d like to draw your attention to the following sections of that Agreement:

1.33. User agrees to subscribe to Provider’s Internet service, KnowSuchWhere.com, for four years at a monthly service rate not lower than $29.99 a month.

1.37. Provider is not required to have Internet service working during that period.

1.85. Computer is the property of Provider until the four year subscription period is over. At that point, User has the option to buy said computer from Provider for a price-to-be-determined, not to exceed eight times computer’s fair market value.

2.35. User agrees not to tamper with the computer in any of the following ways: Reinstalling the operating system, replacing the operating system, updating the operating system, adjusting the screen’s brightness, turning down the speaker volume, or saving data to the hard drive.

2.55. User agrees to watch the computer screen for a minimum of 10 hours a week with a brain that is as blank as possible. User go on vacation, User come back to find computer repossessed.

4.69. User is aware that Provider is collecting private information on User. Provider promises that said information will not be sold to a third party without getting a really good price.

I accepted the agreement and removed the computer from the packing material. Following the color-coded instructions, I plugged in the mouse, keyboard, speakers, monitor, and power cord. But the weight of these connectors proved to much, and the back of the computer collapsed. It turned out the case was made of cardboard painted to look like metal. Three angry calls got me a replacement piece of cardboard.

Two weeks after receiving the computer, I was finally able to try it out and get my first look at the Internet—a two-inch island surrounded by a sea of advertising.

The first thing I wanted to do, of course, was send e-mail to all of my old friends telling them that I was now a legitimate human being. I was entering in all of their e-mail addresses when a message popped up on screen: "We have reason to believe that your eyes are focused on the work area in the center of your screen. Please look at ads exclusively for the next ten minutes.

I did what I was told. When the ten minutes were up and I got back to work, Another message came up: "You have been off-line for the last 15 minutes, making it impossible for us to update your existing advertising."

I went online and continued entering addresses. The next message was more ominous: "You have had your KnowSuch Komputer for two weeks now, and have only used it for one hour. This flagrant violation of your User Agreement leaves us no choice but to shut down your Internet access, repossess your computer, and sell your personal information to 39 purveyors of mail-order pornography."

This message was quickly replaced with another one: "Before we shut down your system, would you be interested in purchasing a Daredevil Plastic Duck?"

The next thing I knew, I was standing over Mr. Proffitt with a keyboard in my hands and—what was that, your honor? You want me to visit the company that made your computer?

© Copyright 1999 by Lincoln Spector

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