Still in the Dark Ages
james follett
support. About time, too, not that it'll be much help with existing
PCs because here in the UK companies selling BIOS chips are virtually
non-existent.
Considering that CD-ROM drives have been with us for about five-years,
why are we still having to struggle with absurd, syntax-sensitive, memory
-gobbling drivers to persuade PC Disk Operating Systems to co-operate
with them?
I'm no programmer, but I've noticed that key DOS software consists of two
relatively small files (why still two after nearly fifteen years of PCs
-- can't anyone compile anymore?) and the command interpreter. Is it
really beyond the wit of man to knock these three miserable little early
1980s files into shape to serve the needs of the 1990s so that they can
recognise a humble CD-ROM drive when they see it?
And why are we still banging our heads against walls with absurdities
such as MEMMAKER to shove these drivers anywhere but in the first
640K of RAM?
Come to that, why is the 640K limit still with us? I was told recently
that the new DOS integral in Windows 95 was a big improvement on
my old MS-DOS 6.2. So I toddled down to the local PC World and bought the
Windows to Windows 95 upgrade on a CD. Reasonably cheap and accompanied
by a little booklet instead of the usual doorstop tome. I was sick with
anticipation: once the new software was installed never again would I
be worried about lack of memory. With the new DOS command line up and
running I'd be able to run CHKDSK and be greeted with a heartwarming
message telling me that I had 16,000,000 bytes or thereabouts free
instead of a miserable 610,000 bytes. Life would be bliss.
I checked the new CD's directory and was astonished to discover that
the disk was packed with huge .AVI files which ran quite happily under
the Media Player in my old Windows 3. Assuming they would be guides to
features in the new wonder-packed Windows 95, I viewed them. They turned
out to be clips from old TV shows, a five-minute trailer for that glorious
Hollywood turkey -- Robroy, some embarrassingly bad tasters of a
number of frightful interactive CD products that were about to hit the
market, a bimbo singing about her goodtimes, and an unplayable game.
Careful searching revealed a small directory containing what looked like
Windows upgrade files. Undaunted, I clicked on the install file. My
CD-drive hissed and crunched for about five minutes then a message appeared
on the screen telling me to quit Windows and launch the install program
from DOS. This I did. Another CD-mangling five-minutes went by. A message
appeared urging me to quit DOS and launch the install program from
Windows. Mine was not reason why. Afterall, this was an order from
Microsoft -- the company that refers to hard disk cylinders when the rest
of known world calls them tracks. A company that can apply a three-
dimensional concept to something sitting on a flat disk is not to be
trifled with. Anyway, I wanted to see that wonderous `16,000.000 bytes
free' message. So I obeyed.
This time things looked more promising because a picture appeared which
showed a magnifying glass moving laboriously over a PC. A message advised
me that Windows 95 was examining my hardware. The five-minutes became
ten-minutes. I went off to make coffee.
I returned to a frozen PC and an accusing message telling that I was
running HIGHSCAN, that Windows 95 absolutely loathed HIGHSCAN, and that
if I wanted Windows 95 on my machine then I would have to first purge
HIGHSCAN from my hard disk and my thoughts. At this point I started
worrying. HIGHSCAN was the first line in my CONFIG.SYS file. If it took
ten minutes for the installation program to discover HIGHSCAN's
disgusting presence, how much longer would it take to plough through the
rest of horrors on my hard disk? What on earth would happen if it
discovered things like COMMAND.COM, or worse, MSCDEX? Life wouldn't
worth living.
Anyway, I deleted HIGHSCAN, rebooted, and, with some trepidation,
restarted the Windows 95 install program. After about thirty minutes I
began to worry about the ability of CD's drive motor to take such
punishment. I went for a walk and returned to a `Windows 96 installed'
message.
Now to find the DOS command line and that magical 16 million bytes of
free memory message! My mouse hand shook with feverish anticipation as
I groped my way around an unfamiliar Program Manager in my search for
the command line prompt. Eventually I discovered that one has to click
on the `Start' icon in order to stop Windows 95. Silly of me not to
have thought of that earlier.
The C> prompt appeared. I typed `Path' which showed everything to be
in order. The great moment had arrived. After several false starts
resulting in `Bad command or filename' messages, somehow my trembling
fingers managed to peck out the dreaded word:
CHKDSK.
The hard disk ground; my nerves screamed. And then the fateful message
appeared:
610,000 bytes free.
I don't remember much after that until I woke up and found that I
couldn't move. I learned later that it taken several men to get me
into the straitjacket. Through the fog of my destroyed reason, I heard
my wife's voice explaining to a sympathetic policeman that I had never
done such a thing before. The judge was understanding and, having given
a solemn undertaking to have nothing to do with Windows 95 ever again,
I was discharged into my wife's care.
Now I spend my days sitting in my wheelchair mumbling to myself, dribbling
occasionally when the nurse's attention wanders, and dreaming of the
days when I had a Model 1 TRS-80 with 48K of memory.
James Follett -- novelist
Geist
You have to be in the 32-bit protected mode to escape the barrier
: I see from an earlier posting that the latest BIOSes include CD-ROM