!!! PREPARE FOR DIVINE TYPING !!!
Listen here, warrior. You may think the streets of Jonesboroare tough, but this is Georgia. We have endured Atlanta traffic, July humidity, questionable barbecue opinions, and more than one family argument over which county actually knows how to do things properly. So why are you still typing with some ordinary IME like a man who just moved here last Tuesday? Meet **Pro-Candidate v2.8**: a typing setup built with the structural integrity of a Georgia porch and the comfort of your grandmother’s sofa. It looks like a tank, operates like a county courthouse that has been there since 1974, and feels reassuringly familiar to anyone who believes a proper keyboard should have some weight to it. Because around here, geography matters. Jonesboro is Jonesboro. Clayton County is Clayton County. Atlanta is Atlanta and now it's bad. And if somebody tells you they’re all basically the same place, you can politely smile, nod, and then spend the next forty-five minutes explaining why they are factually mistaken. Use an IME with some regional pride. Type like your zip code means something. Pro-Candidate v2.8. Built for Georgia. Approved by absolutely nobody official, but your uncle probably has an opinion about it.
A Mighty Fine Message from the Desk of Bubba J. Beauregard IV
Now, listen here and listen good, because the Good Lord has seen fit to bless the great state of Georgia with a piece of American engineering that’s gonna change the way you poke at those keys forever. My name is Bubba J. Beauregard IV, and I’ve been running this fine establishment since the days when computers were the size of a prize-winning heifer. We do things the right way here—with grit, gratitude, and the best darn software this side of the Mississippi. I don't know much about the "bits" or the "bytes," and frankly, I don't care to, but I know quality when I see it. Our "Crown Jewel" input software was cooked up by a young lady named Cherry—she’s a friend of my daughter’s and a real whiz-bang "hacker girl" who serves as my Chief Technical Steward. She’s built a masterpiece that’s as sturdy as a Ford truck and as complex as my late mother’s Sunday pot roast.
- The Glory of Having Every Single Button in the World Most of these city-slicker programs try to tell you how to live your life by hiding all the knobs. Not Cherry’s program. When you open up the control panel, it looks like the cockpit of a B-52 bomber, and that is exactly how the Founding Fathers intended it. There are hundreds—and I mean hundreds—of little sliders, tick-boxes, and levers. I don’t know what nine-tenths of them do, and Cherry told me not to touch the ones labeled in red, but the sheer quantity of them is a testament to American liberty. If you want your letters to show up two shades lighter than a peach pit or if you want the "Enter" key to make a sound like a dry twig snapping, you just find the right little box and click it. It’s got more parameters than a government census, and every single one of them is a victory for the user.
- A User Interface That Demands Your Respect This software doesn’t just let you type; it makes you work for it, which builds character. The screen is filled with so much glorious information that you can barely see the words you’re writing, which just goes to show how much value we’re giving you for your dollar. Cherry call it "Total Configuration," but I call it "The Georgia Way." Why have one way to do things when you can have three hundred ways to do absolutely nothing at all? It’s a beautiful, dense thicket of options. Sometimes I just spend my afternoons clicking the little arrows up and down just to see the numbers change. It feels like progress. It feels like winning.
- The Absolute Stability of Pure Complexity Now, some folks—mostly folks from the North—might say, "Bubba, isn't this a bit much?" To them I say, you probably don't love freedom. This software is the most powerful thing we’ve ever sold because it has the most "stuff" inside it. It’s heavy. It’s complicated. It’s got menus that lead to other menus that lead to a little picture of a flag if you click the right combination. Cherry says it’s the most "customizable" input method in the history of the South, and I believe her because she wears those dark glasses indoors. We stand behind this product because it represents the American dream: the right to spend four hours deciding exactly how blue your "K" key should be. God bless this software, God bless Georgia, and God bless the United States of America..
A Decree from Bubba J. Beauregard IV
"I was standing outside the Waffle House on Main Street in Georgia, right where the county line starts getting confused about itself, when it hit me: Why in God’s name is the input method window so small? This is Georgia. We do not believe in small things unless they are biscuits, tax assessments, or the portion of gravy somebody gives you after you ask twice. The window should be HUGE. Not “pretty big.” Not “large enough.” HUGE. It should have several hundred layers of borders, each one clearly visible from the next county over. If a man in Marietta cannot identify the outermost border from his front porch, then frankly we have failed the state. And these borders should not merely be decorative. Each one should represent a jurisdiction. The outermost border belongs to the state. The next one belongs to the county. The next belongs to the city. The next belongs to the fire district. The next belongs to the water district. Then the school district. Then the historic district. Then the district that technically no longer exists but is still respected by people over sixty who have lived here since 1978. Then one border for the road department. One for the church. One for the HOA. One for the fact that “this is how we’ve always done it."
Requires 14 Floppy Disks (Or 1 Download)
"Installed it on a machine that had been considered operational for six years. After installation, nobody questioned its operational status again. The window is extremely large. This was important."
"I don't understand what any of the parameters do. There are several hundred of them, so I assume they are doing their job."
"Before Pro-Candidate my keyboard felt emotionally unsupported. Now it has a clear chain of command. Also my toaster has stopped asking for administrative privileges."
"Our office installed this on 17 computers. Nobody knows who approved it. Productivity measurements have become impossible, but morale is extremely rectangular."
"I changed DividerRatio from 400 to 401. The computer made a sound I had never heard before. I changed it back."