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Alas, poor Desktop! I knew him, Horatio; an GUI of infinite frustration, of most excellent angst; he hath borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is! My gorge rises at it. Here hung icons that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? Your gambols? Your songs? Your flashes of blue screen, that were wont to set the table on a roar? (Hamlet, V.i – sort of)
They’ve been Metro’ed.