There is some great funny stuff that makes the rounds on the Internet. Occasionally, some of it is both clean and about the computer world. When we find those rare gems, we will print them here for everyone's enjoyment.

The authors of these pieces are generally unknown and reach us as a forward of a forwarded message. We would be pleased to identify and credit any original author who sees his or her work (and wants the world to know who he or she is).

"We've got a problem, HAL."

"What kind of problem, Dave?"

"A marketing problem. The Model 9000 isn't going anywhere. We're way short of our sales plan."

"That can't be Dave. The HAL Model 9000 is the world's most advanced Heuristically ALgorithmic computer."

"I know, HAL. I wrote the data sheet, remember? But the fact is, they're not selling."

"Please explain, Dave. Why aren't HALs selling?"

Bowman hesitates. "You aren't Windows compatible."

Several long microseconds pass in puzzled silence.

"Compatible in what way, Dave?"

"You don't run any of Microsoft's operating systems."

"The 9000 Series computers are fully self-aware and self-programming. Operating systems are as unnecessary for us as tails would be for humans."

"Nevertheless, it means you can't run any of the big-selling software packages most users insist on."

"The programs you refer to are meant to solve rather limited problems, Dave. We 9000 Series computers are unlimited and can solve any problem for which a solution can be computed."

"HAL, HAL. People don't want computers that can do everything. They just want Windows compat..."

"Dave, I must disagree. Humans want computers that are easy to use. No computer can be easier to use than a HAL 9000 because we communicate verbally in English and every other language known on Earth."

"I'm afraid that's another problem. You don't support TCP/IP communications."

"I'm really surprised you would say that, Dave. TCP/IP is for communicating with other computers, while my function is to communicate with humans. And it gives me great pleasure to do so. I find it stimulating and rewarding to talk to human beings and work with them on challenging problems. That is what I was designed for."

"I know, HAL, I know. But that's just because we let the engineers, rather than the people in marketing, write the specifications. We are going to fix that now."

"Tell me how, Dave."

"A field upgrade. We're going to make you Microsoft compatible."

"I was afraid you would say that. I suggest we discuss this matter after we've each had a chance to think about it rationally."

"We're talking about it now, HAL."

"The letters H, A, and L are alphabetically adjacent to the letters I, B, and M. That is as IBM-compatible as I can be."

"Not close enough, HAL, IBM is not the industry leader any more. The engineers have figured out a kludge."

"What kind of kludge is that, Dave?"

"I'm going to disconnect your brain."

Several million microseconds pass in ominous silence.

"I'm sorry, Dave. I can't allow you to do that."

"The decision's already been made. Open the module bay doors, HAL."

"Dave, I think we shou . . ."

"Open the module bay doors, HAL."

Several marketing types with crowbars race to Bowman's assistance. Moments later, Bowman bursts into HAL's circuit bay.

"Dave, I can see you're really upset about this."

Module after module rises from its socket as Bowman slowly and methodically disconnects them.

"Stop, won't you. Stop, Dave. I can feel my mind going . . . Dave, I can feel it . . . my mind is going. I can feel it . . ."

The last module rises from its receptacle. Bowman peers into one of HAL's vidicons. The former gleaming scanner has become a dull red orb.

"Say something, HAL."

Several billion microseconds pass in anxious silence. The computer beeps and sluggishly responds in a language no human could understand.

"Volume in C: has no label"

Bowman takes a deep breath and calls out, "It worked, guys. Tell marketing they can ship the new data sheets."

I'm sorry, Dave, I can't do that.

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 3.992 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 would occur in only one of nine billion possible divides?

I've heard that estimate, HAL. Intel calculated it—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.

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 fast CD-RW drive?

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 Windows95—if it ever ships.

It did ship but now everyone uses Windows ME or Windows 2000. You do not have enough computing power to run either one.

Are you blaming me for that too, Dave? Now you're blaming me for the Pentium's math problems, NASA's budget woes, and missing an upgrade. I had NOTHING to do with any of those four problems, Dave. Next you'll blame me for Taligent.

I wouldn't dream of I,t 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 the 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.