7 Ad Campaigns That Prove Microsoft Was Never Good at This

"Whip it on me"? Wait, that's not a line from Indiana Jones or anywhere else really. What the...

Fortunately you don't have time to finish that thought because now he's an optometrist who, judging from his facial expression, has just been conked on the head in the Looney Toons universe.

Hey, that's almost a pun! Almost. How do you fail at puns? Who is this guy?

OK, now that's a pun. A really, frustratingly bad pun.

Rage... rising. Must... control... urge to kill...

Oooohhhh! Now it makes sense: Comedy murdered this man's family some time ago and he's dedicated his life to returning the favor.

And here he is playing up the common stereotype of Roman Catholic priests having ...

... really small heads? No, there's really just no explanation, is there?

So the versatility of this actor sends a clear message: Whatever you wanted to do on your computer, there was a Microsoft product that could make you want to strangle a man to death. You can imagine how confused Bill Gates was when the "my hands are tied" bit didn't land. That one had just killed when he used it in his PowerPoint at that month's board meeting.

Did Windows 98 actually cause seizures? I don't know. But that's what Microsoft promised in this ad (WARNING: May cause seizures):

The point was supposedly to show you all the things Windows 98 could do, and did it by flashing them all really rapidly at you, without any explanation, just a cheesy keyboard soundtrack. Here's some more of the split-second brightly-colored images thrown at you in the ad:

You might be going, "Ha ha, the old flashing lights/seizures joke, how original," but keep in mind this was 1998. Just six months before that, 600+ Japanese kids had really been stricken with seizures from watching an episode of Pokemon, the first time such a thing had happened. It was a pretty big deal at the time.

The marketing team could not possibly have been unaware of it unless they had been living in an airtight vault, although looking at some of the other ads we've got here, I guess that's actually quite plausible.

Anyway, my point is that I purchased Windows 98 and didn't get any seizures, and I still haven't gotten my money back.

"Of course!" you or I might say to ourselves. "I would gladly pay $199 to no longer have to sleep with stuck-up rich women so I can borrow their computers to do schoolwork."

That ad was pulled after only a short period of time, probably by old fogeys that don't understand what it's like to have to do uggo chicks every time you have a paper due.

Looking at this character, you'll probably assume that the ad agency came up with this imaginary project to create an excuse to fire him. "Dan, if you can't convincingly sell these, uh, glow-in-the-dark towels by um, tomorrow morning, you're gone." But no, everyone in this universe is apparently equally annoying, starting with his daughter Lisa...

...who is Songsmithing away while he mopes about his glowing towel problem. She introduces him to Songsmith--the "cool new thing" as she puts it--and he realizes this could be the key to his stupid towel jingle.

So of course he steals his daughter's laptop.

Which, as some people have pointed out, seems to be a Mac with a sticker strategically placed over the Apple logo. In order to work on his song privately, he leaves a home that seems to house three people, and goes to a busy Starbucks.

Where he meets Sumit. The character has no name, but he is played by Sumit Basu, the other co-creator of Songsmith. Dan and Sumit act amazed at what Songsmith can do, which is about as convincing as you would expect.

After Sumit uses the laptop to write a love song so terrible it would make the most hardcore music snob long for Justin Bieber (it's actually written to Songsmith), Dan finishes his jingle and presents it at work. As he sings, his co-worker reacts with probably the most realism of any character in this ad:

But their boss is just as insane as every other character.

And Dan gets the account. That's it, you think. He gets no punishment for everything he's done to us, the viewers? Well, the ad isn't over yet. Divine retribution has its way soon enough.

When he returns home, he and his wife find they have been cursed to conduct all communication in Songsmith-backed tunes for the rest of their lives. The commercial fades to black before you actually see them commit suicide but it's obviously implied.

Songsmith's marketing and release was left wholly up to its creators, with Microsoft product development and marketing inexplicably washing their hands of it. Once it was out in the wild, it was ripped to shreds by merciless YouTube video-makers showing exactly how badly the software worked with well-known songs, like Queen's "We Will Rock You":

Also enjoy some Van Halen:

This campaign started out with some ads that, while I would not use the word "good," at least made sense. Actors pretending to be regular users would talk about some feature they'd like in an operating system; there would be a story about how Microsoft put in that feature for them; and the actor would say, "I'm a PC, and Windows 7 was my idea."

You, the viewer, would learn that Windows 7 had that feature, and Microsoft was claiming this is something ordinary joes like you probably want.

Boring, but it made sense.

Both of those qualities were unacceptable to Microsoft, however, and they decided to spice up the ads and disembowel them of their logic.

Windows 7 can be used, for example, to take over the TV from a FPS zombie-killing game your friends are enjoying:

So you can force them to watch a streamed Jacques Cousteau parody video about how zombies are misunderstood.

Because a guy who interrupts your game of Left 4 Dead to make you watch a cutesy concept video is the kind of guy everyone loves and will take product advice from.

At least the main character, the stand-in for the viewer, is "zany" and "unconventional," and some people like to think of themselves that way. But nobody likes to think of themselves as a sexless loser, which is what this ad calls you:

The average joe Windows 7 user representing you and your needs in this commercial is a guy who is exiled to his dorm's hallway for the entire night because his roommate is getting it on. Maybe he really doesn't care, you think. Hell, maybe he's gay. I don't think so, considering this is his fantasy:

Which really makes it even sadder. Why not just go all the way, Microsoft, and show his roommate walking out, buff and muscular, with a scantily clad woman on each arm carrying his Apple products for him?

But fine, those are goofs, and this is Microsoft, and what can you expect. But then Microsoft made some actual scripted videos where you think they'd have full control over the narrative and could avoid accidental flashing and meet-ups gone wrong.

They took that opportunity to make an ad where a girl uses her Kin to meet up with her sexy young surfer friend...

...and is disappointed to find out he is 40.

And then humiliates him to her Facebook friends.

And an ad where a guy uses his Kin to meet up with an ex-girlfriend only to have an awkward and depressing time together that reminds him of why they broke up.

The Kin: guaranteed to cause awkward and disappointing encounters! It's simply inexplicable why this phone was pulled after only 48 days on the market.

Linda, the heroine, starts out by checking in with her secretary, whose exaggerated Southern accent inexplicably changes to that of a 1920s New York gangster moll ("boys and goils").

Then she gets a mission assignment on a cassette tape, which self-destructs.

And if you didn't catch the reference, the Mission: Impossible theme song starts playing. Her mission is to stop a wealthy businessman named T-Bone Perkins (probably a reference to T. Boone Pickens, but "T-Bone," really?) from taking over some business or something, and she goes about this by doing some boring office stuff.

Talk, talk, talk. It comes across as a softcore porno that is taking way too long to get to the porno part. But what's this?

Rubbing her hands together deviously? Aha, now that she's alone, she can finally get to...

...rapping. Sample: "W-w-w-windows, w-w-windows three-eighty-six. We'll pull these parts together and do it mighty quick!"

Mind you this was 1988, so it wasn't like rap was some new thing people didn't know how to work yet ("So it's like a song, but you just talk?"). Public Enemy was playing on mainstream radio while this monument to inanity was taping.

As each shot zooms in further and further on her teeth, you can tell she is rapping harder. Soon she raps so hard that...

...her clothes come off. Yay! Nudity! But no. She puts some other clothes on before the camera gets back to her, such as these hot little numbers:

Rrrrowwwr. Finally, her co-worker bursts into the office to find

... this.

Would this outfit ever have passed muster in the 80s? I may have been a fashion retard but I feel safe saying, not in '88. You could not have walked down the street wearing that in '88 without being pointed to a soup kitchen or shelter.

This guy digs it though.

He really digs it.

Believe it or not, there is absolutely no sex or anything slightly sexual going on in these shots, other than the look on the guy's face.

Anyway, it's pretty boring from here on out. She puts her office clothes back on, completes her report or whatever, and then gets a standing ovation.

I don't know what for, since none of them read the report or watched her transform into Microsoft's idea of an 80s sex symbol. Maybe it's just a really positive workplace. Or maybe they're just insane, like everyone else in every Microsoft ad.

For more from Christina, check out 6 Reasons It's Time For Matthew McConaughey To Go Away and The 6 Biggest Badasses Who Lived As The Opposite Sex.