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Yucks Digest V7 #16
Yucks Digest Mon, 6 Oct 97 Volume 7 : Issue 16
Today's Topics:
"Has anyone seen my bike pump?"
Another Klingon software development
Being in public is just an added bonus.
cutie
Humor: AMEX (fwd)
It's a Miracle!
It's another to wake up with an insane craving for tuna fish.
Known Your Unix Sysadmin
Patient was alert and unresponsive.
Quote of the day
The Cure for his Winking Problem
The Good Old Days
Users have permission to get thrilled in advance.
You Might Be A Teacher If...
Yucks Digest V7 #15 (shorts)
The "Yucks" digest is a moderated list of the bizarre, the unusual,
the sometimes risque, the possibly insane, and the (usually) humorous.
It is issued on a semi-regular basis, as the whim and time present
themselves.
Back issues can be obtained via WWW as
<http://www.cs.purdue.edu/homes/spaf/yucks.html>; back issues and
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Submissions and problem reports should be sent to spaf@cs.purdue.edu
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Date: Mon, 06 Oct 1997 13:38:28 -0700
From: "Ric Forrester" <ric@visigenic.com>
Subject: "Has anyone seen my bike pump?"
To: spaf
Now THIS is just lovely!
> Just when you thought you'd seen it all... Japan Times -- April 16,
> 1997
>
> "The government must crack down on this disgusting craze of Pumping",
> a spokesman for the Nakhon Ratchasima hospital told reporters. "If
> this perversion catches on, it will destroy the cream of Thailand's
> manhood."
>
> He was speaking after the remains of 13 year-old Charnchai
> Puanmuangpak had been rushed into the hospital's emergency room. "Most
> 'Pumpers' use a standard bicycle pump," he explained, "inserting the
> nozzle far up their rectum, giving themselves a rush of air, creating
> a momentary high.
>
> This act is a sin against God."
>
> Charnchai took it further still. He started using a two-cylinder foot
> pump, but even that wasn't exciting enough for him, and he boasted to
> friends that he was going to try the compressed air hose at a nearby
> gasoline station. They dared him to do it so, under cover of darkness,
> he snuck in.
>
> Not realizing how powerful the machine was, he inserted the tube deep
> into his rectum, and placed a coin in the slot. As a result, he died
> virtually instantly, passersby are still in shock.
>
> One woman thought she was watching a twilight fireworks display, and
> started clapping. "We still haven't located all of him.", say the
> police authorities.
>
> "When that quantity of air interacted with the gas in his system, he
> nearly exploded. It was like an atom bomb went off or something."
> "Pumping is the devil's pastime, and we must all say no to satan,"
> Ratchasima concluded. "Inflate your tires by all means, but then hide
> your bicycle pump where it cannot tempt you."
------------------------------
Date: Mon, 06 Oct 1997 10:17:30 -0500
From: Bill Woodward <wpwood@pswtech.com>
Subject: Another Klingon software development
To: yucks
There seem to be two version of this floating around.
In message <199710040231.VAA08595@dorsai.cs.purdue.edu> you write:
>
>Date: Thu, 3 Jul 1997 14:31:20 -0400 (EDT)
>From: Keith Bostic <bostic@bostic.com>
>Subject: ... and the young still sing songs in our honor.
>To: /dev/null@mongoose.bostic.com
>
>Forwarded-by: Rob Kolstad <kolstad@BSDI.COM>
>Forwarded-by: wdr@kea-115.Eng.Sun.COM ("William Delightful":
>
>If Klingons Developed Software:
>
>Top 10 things likely to be overheard if you had a Klingon Project
>Manager for your software development team:
>
>10: Back on Kalis Prime we programmed in COBOL, and the young still
> sing songs in our honor.
> 9: A Klingon PM does not question his orders!
> 8: Our clients are weak, they will do nothing.
> 7: Klingon programmers do not need to sleep!
> 6: I am the PM, I may change the design as I see fit.
> 5: Do not challenge me unless you are prepared to die.
> 4: Your code is weak, and you are weak. Give me one reason I
> should not kill you where you stand!
> 3: It is time, prepare yourself for the Ritual of Testing.
> 2: We will meet the schedule or die!
> 1: This code is a piece of GAGH! Prepare to die!
>
Here's the other:
Top 10 things likely to be overheard if you had a Klingon on your
software development team:
10) "This code is a piece of crap! You have no honor!"
9) "A TRUE Klingon warrior does not comment his code!"
8) "By filing this bug you have questioned my family honor. Prepare to
die!"
7) "You question the worthiness of my code?! I should kill you where you
stand!"
6) "Our competitors are without honor!"
5) "Specs are for the weak and timid!"
4) "This machine is a piece of GAGH! I need dual Pentium processors if
I am to do battle with this code!"
3) "Perhaps it IS a good day to Die! I say we ship it!"
2) "My program has just dumped Stova Core!"
1) "Behold, the keyboard of Kalis! The greatest Klingon code warrior
that ever lived!"
Although it seems that I've heard #3 even on an all-human dev team :-|
------------------------------
Date: Tue, 30 Sep 1997 16:05:01 -0400 (EDT)
From: Nev Dull <nev@bostic.com>
Subject: Being in public is just an added bonus.
To: nev@bostic.com (/dev/null)
Men: an owner's manual for women.
---------------
Why do men always have to ogle at other women?
Again, this is a testosterone thing. Do you honestly think that all the
testosterone just fell out of our bodies the moment we met you? Besides,
women do it as well. Women are just much better at not getting caught.
I'm fairly certain it's some sort of photographic memory deal. Women take
one quick look and memorise it for later reference. Since men lack this
ability, we try to burn it into our memory by staring as much as we can.
-----------------------------------------------------
Why do men always touch themselves, especially in public?
We occasionally need to adjust our little friend and make him happy.
It's much like adjusting your bra. Being in public is just an added
bonus.
------------------------------------------------------
Why are men so uncommunicative?
You'd learn to keep your big mouth shut too if every time you open it
you get into trouble with your partner.
------------------------------------------------------
Why do men have to act like such retards?
Well, we don't actually have to; we do it because we enjoy it. It's the
old fashioned pride in a job well done that's missing in so much of the
world nowadays.
------------------------------------------------------
Why can't men just share their feelings?
Do we look like women to you? Why is it so hard to understand that men
and women are different? How are we supposed to share how we feel when
we have no idea how we feel? Unless we're experiencing some extreme
emotion like rage, hatred, disgust, or a brick on our foot, we have no
idea how we feel.
------------------------------------------------------
Why can't men cuddle more (i.e. lie down and hug)?
Please... How many hours do you think there is in a day? We oblige you
as much as we can, but who the heck (besides women) can stand lying
around for hours on end? We men.... Men hunters... Need go roam...Starve
in cave... Must go find wildebeest... Now sitting on our asses for hours
on end on the other hand is a whole other story.
------------------------------------------------------
How can men sit on their asses all day without moving?
Men have very powerful sets of sitting muscles developed by evolution
that enable us to sit for extended periods of time without getting tired.
In prehistoric times, it was often necessary to sit in one spot for
extended periods of time while hunting for prey. The more successful
hunters were able to sit very still for very extended periods of time
thereby passing on this ability to their progeny. The figgidy types were
all gobbled up by saber toothed tigers etcetera. The end result is that
almost all modern men are born with this innate ability.
------------------------------------------------------
Why can't men just say "I love you?"
Men are taught from a tender young age to be self-sufficient. To say that
we love you is equivalent to saying that we need you. Most men consider
that a character fault. It's not easy to admit to one's own character
faults.
------------------------------------------------------
Why do men say "I love you" when they hardly know me?
Ho, Ho, Ho... Aren't you special? Well, some men think it's a sure fire
way to get into your pants. Surprisingly, it actually still works quite
well.
------------------------------------------------------
What does it mean when men say "I Love You?
1. Please sleep with me.
2. I'm sorry for whatever it is that I did.
3. I forgot to get you a gift; this will have to do.
4. Huh? I'm sorry; I wasn't listening.
5. What did I forget? This should buy me a little time.
6. Stop nagging me.
7. What do I have to do to get a beer around here?
------------------------------------------------------
Why doesn't my partner ever answer me?
We just simply don't have the energy to answer every single one of your
questions. If we think we do not have the answer, or that you will not
like the answer, we simply remain quiet and save the energy for other
things.
------------------------------------------------------
Why won't men ever pick up after themselves?
Why should we? It doesn't really bother us that much. Besides, we know
darn well you'll pick it up.
------------------------------------------------------
What's with all the belching and farting?
This usually only occurs after months of courting. It's our way to let
you know that we're comfortable with you. Believe it or not, it's
actually a sign of affection. Besides, holding it for extended periods
of time gives us stomach cramps.
------------------------------------------------------
Why do men hate shopping?
It's an evolutionary thing. Men hunt. Women gather. We just want to go
out, kill it, and bring it back. Who wants to spend hours and hours to
look at things we have no intention of killing? err... Buying?
------------------------------------------------------
Why can't men ever leave the toilet seat down?
Have you ever seen one of us pee? The proper position of the toilet seat
is up. Mathematically speaking, the proper position of the toilet seat
is a function of the time spent peeing over the time spent sitting. The
closer that ratio approaches one, the truer the proposition. Besides,
it's actually a courtesy that we lift the seat. Why would we care if we
pee all over the seat. You're the ones that have to sit on it. You
should appreciate the fact that we actually lift the darn thing. We aim
to please.
------------------------------------------------------
Why do men find blonde bimbos attractive?
Are you kidding? Even leaving the physical aside, blonde bimbos are
generally much easier to get along (alone) with. They like having fun
and doing exciting things. They don't walk around with the weight of
the world on their shoulders. They don't ever give us a hard time for
being a dumb male; and plus they laugh at most of our jokes (even the
ones they don't get). What more could any of us males ask for?
------------------------------------------------------
Why do men act like they own the remote control?
What do you mean act? We do; possession is nine tenths of the law.
Besides, it is an awesome responsibility not to be entrusted to just
anyone. I believe the only fair way to decide who gets the remote
control is to arm wrestle for it.
------------------------------------------------------
Why can't men stay on a single channel for more than two seconds?
Are you kidding? What if there is something good on the next channel?
We could miss it if we stay on one channel for too long. (See also: Why
do men fear commitment?)
------------------------------------------------------
Why do men fear commitment?
Don't be so surprised. Yes; most of us do know what 'commitment' means
and can spell it correctly. It's like an automobile. No matter how good
you think this year's model is, they're always coming out with newer,
faster, better, sleeker, and sexier models. We simply cannot be expected
to purchase the first one we see. We must browse around a bit and test
drive a few. Who wants to end up with a lemon? At least with a car,
there's a slight chance of it eventually becoming a classic. It simply
makes much more sense to lease and upgrade to the younger... err... I
mean newer models every couple of years. Some of them come with fun
extras like dual air bags.
------------------------------------------------------
What does it mean when men say, "I'm just not ready for a relationship
right now" or "I don't want a girl friend?"
It means that we like you enough to sleep with you, but not enough so
that we want to see you repeatedly.
------------------------------------------------------
What does it mean when men say, "Can we just be friends?"
Generally, it means that the recipient of said comment is physically
repulsive enough that no beer goggles may be thick enough to provide
adequate protection.
------------------------------------------------------
Do all men really masturbate?
Yes. It is genetically inherited behaviour. It's been passed on from
our most primal forefathers, and it'll be passed on to our sons.
------------------------------------------------------
Why do men generally have greater upper body strength?
Several factors are at work, namely evolution, heredity, nutrition, and
environment. (See also: Do all men really masturbate?)
------------------------------------------------------
Why do men generally have better hand-eye or spatial coordinate motor
coordination?
It is like with all things. Practice... Practice...Practice... (See also:
Do all men really masturbate?)
------------------------------------------------------
Why are men so obsessed with beautiful women?
As opposed to what? Really ugly women? Face it, if men were obsessed
with ugly women, there would be just as much bitching about why men are
so obsessed with ugly women. No matter how you set this up, some people
are always going to be left out. I don't see anyone screaming about
equal treatment for the stupid people either.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Subject: What men are thinking.
THE WOMEN'S GUIDE TO WHAT A MAN IS REALLY SAYING...
1. "I'm hungry." = I'm hungry.
2. "I'm sleepy." = I'm sleepy.
3. "I'm tired." = I'm tired.
4. "Do you want to go to a movie?" = I'd eventually like to have sex with
you.
5. "Can I take you out to dinner?" = I'd eventually like to have sex with
you.
6. "Can I call you sometime?" = I'd eventually like to have sex with you.
7. "May I have this dance?" = I'd eventually like to have sex with you.
8. "Nice dress!" = Nice cleavage!
9. "You look tense, let me give you a massage." = I want to fondle you.
10. "What's wrong?" = What meaningless self-inflicted psychological
trauma are you going through now?
11. "What's wrong?" = I guess sex tonight is out of the question.
12. "I'm bored." = Do you want to have sex?
13. "I love you." = Let's have sex now.
14. "I love you too." = Okay, I said it...we'd better have sex now!
15. "Yes, I like the way you cut your hair." = I liked it better before.
16. "Let's talk.." = I am trying to impress you by showing that I am a
deep person and maybe then you'd like to have sex with me.
17. "Will you marry me?" = I may as well get tax benefits for going
through these "talks" (and while shopping...)
18. "I like that one better." = Pick any freakin' dress, let's go home
and fuck!
19. "I don't think that blouse and that skirt go well together." = I'm gay.
------------------------------
Date: Mon, 6 Oct 1997 06:32 EDT
From: Lindsay Cleveland <lindsay@dscatl.atl.ga.us>
Subject: cutie
To: <spaf>
Contributed by: Dick Perin <emory!crl.com!dperin>
*File Description: pshift - The Paradigm Shift Utility*
PSHIFT(1) USER COMMANDS PSHIFT(1)
NAME
pshift - paradigm shift utility
SYNOPSIS
pshift [-zzeitgeist] [-rragelev] [-v] [-c] [-wn] [+|-n]
DESCRIPTION
The pshift operator performs a paradigm shift on its input stream
within the context of the current or specified zeitgeist.
OPTIONS
-z Specify the zeitgeist context. May be specified here or
from the environment variable $ZEITGEIST.
Supported values of zeitgeist are judeo_christian (default),
postcommunist, new_age, and when_god_was_a_woman.
-r Specify rage level. Acceptable values of ragelev are ennui
(default), deep_seated, and consuming.
-v Set to verbose mode. Normally pshift operates silently; in
verbose mode it publishes a 500+ page bestseller entitled "Rethinking [input
stream] in the [zeitgeist] Age", and then begins soliciting honoraria until
the operator types ctrl-c. On some systems it runs for Congress.
-c Set to collective IO. Normally pshift takes its input from
stdin and outputs to stdout; in collective mode it takes its input from the
Collective Unconscious and writes to the Body Politic.
-wn Specify first, second, third or fourth wave. Acceptable
values for n are 0,1,2 or 3, with 2 (third wave) being the default.
[On Sun systems, the logical waves are 0,3,2,1, which map to
physical waves 0,1,2,3; see Sun Technical Manual for details.]
+|-n Specifies the number of times to prepend 'post' to the
zeitgeist context, if positive, or 'pre' if negative. The default is 11.
EXAMPLES
source $DEITY | pshift -zpostcommunist -rdeep_seated -v +1
On most systems, the above command will output a hardcover volume
called "Rethinking God in the Post-Postcommunist Era", in which the
irrelevence of erstwhile religious concepts is seen to have triggered a
global, deep-seated rage vis-a-vis traditional sociopolitical norms leading
to a premature breakdown of emerging postsoviet infrastructure.
pshift -znew_age -rennui
The above command produces no output, but privately processes a
vague discontent which it will share if its space is honored. May be
redirected to /dev/null.
pshift -c -w3 -1
Taking its input from the collective unconscious, the above command
rejects the failed socioeconomic policies of the last thirty years and
replaces them with a futurist, fourth wave polemic of traditional values,
the two-parent family, and the supremacy of the private sector that was the
foundation of the American utopia of the 1950s. Use a prepend value of -2
to restore the American utopia of the early Industrial Age, a value of -3 to
restore the European utopia of the Enlightenment, -4 for catholic hegemony,
etc. (note: Requires grass root permission. In verbose mode, it may also
require a $4 million advance.)
SEE ALSO
backlash(1)
BUGS
You must have root permission to use consuming rage.
AUTHOR
Robert Drucker (robert@ocean.washington.edu)
copyright 1995 Robert Drucker.
Robert Drucker is a trademark of Robert Drucker.
Cheers,
Lindsay Cleveland Digital Systems Co. Atlanta, Georgia
------------------------------
Date: Wed, 1 Oct 1997 15:55:14 -0400 (EDT)
From: tale@vix.com (David C Lawrence)
Subject: Humor: AMEX (fwd)
To: Allan Prentice <allanp@fancy.cup.hp.com>
> 1-800-477-AMEX
>
> [Somehow, I don't think this is the kind of member privileges they
> wanted to advertise! Pretty funny. --spaf]
This number appears to have been disconnected at least two days ago,
probably because the owners of it didn't want to pay for the thousands
of calls from Internet users that this message caused.
What did it say when it was still active?
[It was gay phone sex advertisements. --spaf]
------------------------------
Date: Fri, 3 Oct 1997 13:05:01 -0400 (EDT)
From: Nev Dull <nev@bostic.com>
Subject: It's a Miracle!
To: nev@bostic.com (/dev/null)
From: Pope-Pourri, by John Dollison
It's a Miracle!
The saints are remembered most for their holy deeds, but many of
them are also credited with having legendary powers.
Here are some of the stranger ones:
Saint Hugh of Grenoble (1052-1132). Made the sign of the cross over some
chickens and turned them into sea turtles, so that some hungry monks could
eat them on a meatless Friday (sea turtles were considered fish).
Saint Nicholas of Tolentino (1245-1305). A similar story -- rather than
break a religious fast, Nicholas made the sign of the cross over a bird
that someone had cooked for him; it sprang to life and flew away.
Saint Leufredus (c. 738). Struck bald a woman who made fun of his
baldness; struck toothless a thief who had slandered him; and struck
infertile the fields of a farmer who had plowed on Sunday. Also banished
the flies from his house one afternoon when they interrupted his prayers;
for this reason he is the patron saint invoked against flies.
Saint Brigid (c. 450-525). Hung her wet laundry on sunbeams, taught a
fox to dance, and changed her dirty bathwater into beer so that visiting
clerics would have something to drink.
Sain Peter Martyr (1205-1252). Cursed some young hoodlums who were
throwing stones at a building. The building collapsed on the boys,
killing them.
Saint Fillian (eight century). His left arm glowed so brightly he could
read from it at night.
Saint Gwen (seventh century). Grew a third breast after giving birth to
triplets (in honor of the Trinity).
Saint Lawrence (third century). Leads one soul out of purgatory every
Friday (not to be confused with Saint Patrick, who leads seven souls out
of purgatory each Thurdsay and twelve each Saturday).
Saint Joseph of Cupertino (1603-1663). Could recognize sinners "because
their faces appeared black to him," and could spot "perverts and sexual
offenders" because they gave off a foul stench.
Saint Fridolin (c. 650). Had X-ray vision ... or at least could see
through the rubble of a monastery at Poiters, where he found the remains
of Saint Hilary (patron saint of lawyers and backward children).
saint Blaise (c. 275). Talked a wolf into giving back a pig it had stolen.
Saint Francis of Assisi (c. 1181-1226). Also good with animals. On one
occasion he "preached a sermon to the birds"; on another he "made a peace
treaty with a wolf."
Saint Martin de Porres (1579-1639). Could levitate and "bilocate" (appear
in two places at once) and glowed in the dark when he prayed.
Saint Antony of Padua (1195-1231). Reattached the leg of a guilt-ridden
young man who had cut it off after kicking his mother with it.
Saint Peter Martyr (1205-1252). Told a young man to chop off his foot
after he kicked his mother ... and then reattached it after the young man
obeyed the order.
Saint Eligius (c. 590 - c. 660). Tried to nail a horseshoe on the hoof
of a restless horse, but the animal was so fidgety that he had to saw off
its leg to do it. He reattached it afterwards by "making the sign of the
cross over it, so that no trace of a wound could be seen."
------------------------------
Date: Fri, 3 Oct 1997 09:05:01 -0400 (EDT)
From: Nev Dull <nev@bostic.com>
Subject: It's another to wake up with an insane craving for tuna fish.
To: nev@bostic.com (/dev/null)
From: "Keith E. Sullivan" <KSullivan@worldnet.att.net>
LEARNING TO NAP FROM CATS AND LEGISLATORS
by Bill Hall, Lewiston, Idaho Tribune, Sunday, September 14, 1997
I have misgivings about the development of a sleeping pill that is based
on research into the way cats sleep.
Cats sleep out in the sun. Cats sleep draped over couches. Cats sleep
on cars. Do people really need a sleeping pill that works only if you
drape yourself over the warm hood of your car?
The research into cat sleep is aimed at a natural potion found in humans
as well as in cats. Scientists suspect it may be what makes cats such
great sleepers and nappers, what could help us do the same. If this
study bears fruit, you may soon have half the people in your office
asleep at any given time because that's the way cats sleep, off and on
all day.
Cats remind me of state legislators in that respect. State legislators
are ahead of their time, chemically speaking. If you look in on a
late-afternoon session of your state legislature, you are likely to see
a substantial portion of the lawmakers catching flies during somebody's
speech.
That's the case, not because legislators are like cats. It's because
legislators are like me -- older. Becoming catlike isn't the only way
to develop a gift for napping. As you grow older, that gift comes to
you, just as the ability to sleep in on a Saturday morning tends to
desert you.
A relatively high proportion of state legislators are advanced in
years. State legislative chambers are second only to Arizona as popular
places to retire.
You would be surprised how many people wait until they are no longer
sharp enough to run a business or practice law and then run for the
legislature. It's like walking into a room full of cats. On a slow day
in the House or Senate, they're draped all over the furniture. Whatever
the chemical is in cat brains, they have it.
I now learn it's called "adnesonine" (a Latin word meaning "sleeping
senator"). Dr. Robert W. McCarley of Harvard Medical School and his
colleagues identified it by correctly concluding that cats, champion
sleepers, were worth studying. Of course, they could as well have
studied state legislators or me. But they found that the magic elixir
builds up in cat systems more and more the longer they are awake.
Apparently it finally zonks them. And when they go to sleep, it
immediately starts breaking down. As it reaches low levels, they wake
up again.
It works pretty much the same on us, so the good doctor is interested in
finding a way to use this natural sleep substance to help the many
wakeful souls in the world sleep better. But I'm a little nervous about
where this comes from. It's one thing to be able to sleep better. It's
another to wake up with an insane craving for tuna fish.
But there is an additional reason to study politicians as well as cats
in seeking a remedy for wakefulness. Politicians are among the greatest
of sleep managers. A lot of them don't sleep like normal people --
especially during campaigns. They are given to making hay and seeking
votes while the sun shines -- and long after it has set. Campaigning
politicians will go full tilt for 18 to 20 hours a day for days at a
time. Then they will crash and sleep the clock around.
One of their tricks is napping. Like cats, they are gifted at nodding
off whenever they get a few spare minutes -- on a plane, in a car,
during each other's speeches.
One of the all-time champs at that sort of thing was Lyndon Johnson. He
once explained his secret to a reporter. He said most people who take a
nap stretch out on a couch fully clothed and nod off for a bit. But
they don't sleep soundly that way. Johnson said a person can sleep more
soundly than that by using his trick. He would take off his clothes,
actually put on his jammies and crawl under the covers in a bed. He
said that way you trick your body into thinking it is the normal resting
time. The body goes fully to sleep taking you with it.
Most days, I nap during the noon hour for about five minutes and it's
very refreshing. But I leave my clothes on, especially if I'm napping
at the office.
That probably explains why cats are better nappers than I am. I have
never seen a cat without his jammies on.
------------------------------
Date: Wed, 1 Oct 97 13:34:21 -0700
From: Peter Langston <psl@langston.com>
Subject: Known Your Unix Sysadmin
To: Fun_People@langston.com
[If you've never used a time-shared Unix system you may not understand all
of this. But some of you will not only understand it, you'll know the
people they're describing... personally... -psl]
Forwarded-by: Dan Hunt <dan@opnsys.com>
KNOW YOUR UNIX SYSTEM ADMINISTRATOR
There are four major species of Unix sysad:
1) The TECHNICAL THUG. Usually a systems programmer who has been forced into
system administration; writes scripts in a polyglot of the Bourne shell,
sed, C, awk, perl, and APL.
2) The ADMINISTRATIVE FASCIST. Usually a retentive drone (or rarely, a
harridan ex-secretary) who has been forced into system administration.
3) The MANIAC. Usually an aging cracker who discovered that neither the
Mossad nor Cuba are willing to pay a living wage for computer espionage.
Fell into system administration; occasionally approaches major
competitors with indesp schemes.
4) The IDIOT. Usually a cretin, morpohodite, or old COBOL programmer
selected to be the system administrator by a committee of cretins,
morphodites, and old COBOL programmers.
SITUATION: Low disk space
* TECHNICAL THUG: Writes a suite of scripts to monitor disk usage,
maintain a database of historic disk usage, predict future disk usage
via least squares regression analysis, identify users who are more than
a standard deviation over the mean, and send mail to the offending
parties. Places script in cron. Disk usage does not change, since
disk-hogs, by nature, either ignore script-generated mail, or file it
away in triplicate.
* ADMINISTRATIVE FASCIST: Puts disk usage policy in motd. Uses disk
quotas. Allows no exceptions, thus crippling development work. Locks
accounts that go over quota.
* MANIAC:
# cd /home
# rm -rf `du -s * | sort -rn | head -1 | awk '{print $2}'`;
* IDIOT:
# cd /home
# cat `du -s * | sort -rn | head -1 | awk '{ printf "%s/*\n", $2}'` | \
compress
SITUATION: Excessive CPU usage.
* TECHNICAL THUG: Writes a suite of scripts to monitor processes,
maintain a database of CPU usage, identify processes more than a
standard deviation over the norm, and renice offending processes.
Places script in cron. Ends up renicing the production database into
oblivion, bringing operations to a grinding halt, much to the delight
of the xtrek freaks.
* ADMINISTRATIVE FASCIST: Puts CPU usage policy in motd. Uses CPU quotas.
Locks accounts that go over quota. Allows no exceptions, thus crippling
development work, much to the delight of the xtrek freaks.
* MANIAC:
# kill -9 `ps -augxww | sort -rn +8 -9 | head -1 | awk '{print $2}'`
* IDIOT:
# compress -f `ps -augxww | sort -rn +8 -9 | head -1 | awk '{print $2}'`
SITUATION: New account creation.
* TECHNICAL THUG: Writes perl script that creates home directory, copies
in incomprehensible default environment, and places entries in
/etc/passwd, /etc/shadow, and /etc/group. (By hand, NOT with passmgmt.)
Slaps on setuid bit; tells a nearby secretary to handle new accounts.
Usually, said secretary is still dithering over the difference between
'enter' and 'return'; and so, no new accounts are ever created.
* ADMINISTRATIVE FASCIST: Puts new account policy in motd. Since people
without accounts cannot read the motd, nobody ever fulfills the
bureaucratic requirements; and so, no new accounts are ever created.
* MANIAC: "If you're too stupid to break in and create your own account,
I don't want you on the system. We've got too many goddamn
sh*t-for-brains a**holes on this box anyway."
* IDIOT:
# cd /home; mkdir "Bob's home directory"
# echo "Bob Simon:gandalf:0:0::/dev/tty:compress -f" > /etc/passwd
SITUATION: Root disk fails.
* TECHNICAL THUG: Repairs drive. Usually is able to repair filesystem
from boot monitor. Failing that, front-panel toggles microkernel in and
starts script on neighboring machine to load binary boot code into
broken machine, reformat and reinstall OS. Lets it run over the weekend
while he goes mountain climbing.
* ADMINISTRATIVE FASCIST: Begins investigation to determine who broke the
drive. Refuses to fix system until culprit is identified and charged
for the equipment.
* MANIAC, LARGE SYSTEM: Rips drive from system, uses sledgehammer to
smash same to flinders. Calls manufacturer, threatens pets. Abuses
field engineer while they put in a new drive and reinstall the OS.
* MANIAC, SMALL SYSTEM: Rips drive from system, uses ball-peen hammer to
smash same to flinders. Calls Requisitions, threatens pets. Abuses
bystanders while putting in new drive and reinstalling OS.
* IDIOT: Doesn't notice anything wrong.
SITUATION: Poor network response.
* TECHNICAL THUG: Writes scripts to monitor network, then rewires entire
machine room, improving response time by 2%. Shrugs shoulders, says,
"I've done all I can do," and goes mountain climbing.
* ADMINISTRATIVE FASCIST: Puts network usage policy in motd. Calls up
Berkeley and AT&T, badgers whoever answers for network quotas. Tries to
get xtrek freaks fired.
* MANIAC: Every two hours, pulls ethernet cable from wall and waits for
connections to time out.
* IDIOT:
# compress -f /dev/en0
SITUATION: User questions.
* TECHNICAL THUG: Hacks the code of emacs' doctor-mode to answer new
users questions. Doesn't bother to tell people how to start the new
"guru-mode", or for that matter, emacs.
* ADMINISTRATIVE FASCIST: Puts user support policy in motd. Maintains
queue of questions. Answers them when he gets a chance, often within
two weeks of receipt of the proper form.
* MANIAC: Screams at users until they go away. Sometimes barters
knowledge for powerful drink and/or sycophantic adulation.
* IDIOT: Answers all questions to best of his knowledge until the user
realizes few UNIX systems support punched cards or JCL.
SITUATION: *Stupid* user questions.
* TECHNICAL THUG: Answers question in hex, binary, postfix, and/or French
until user gives up and goes away.
* ADMINISTRATIVE FASCIST: Locks user's account until user can present
documentation demonstrating their qualification to use the machine.
* MANIAC:
# cat >> ~luser/.cshrc
alias vi 'rm \!*;unalias vi;grep -v BoZo ~/.cshrc > ~/.z; \
mv -f ~/.z ~/.cshrc'
^D
* IDIOT: Answers all questions to best of his knowledge. Recruits user to
system administration team.
SITUATION: Process accounting management.
* TECHNICAL THUG: Ignores packaged accounting software; trusts scripts to
sniff out any problems & compute charges.
* ADMINISTRATIVE FASCIST: Devotes 75% of disk space to accounting records
owned by root and chmod'ed 000.
* MANIAC: Laughs fool head off at very mention of accounting.
* IDIOT:
# lpr /etc/wtmp /usr/adm/paact
SITUATION: Religious war, BSD vs. System V.
* TECHNICAL THUG: BSD. Crippled on System V boxes.
* ADMINISTRATIVE FASCIST: System V. Horrified by the people who use BSD.
Places frequent calls to DEA.
* MANIAC: Prefers BSD, but doesn't care as long as HIS processes run
quickly.
* IDIOT:
# cd c:
SITUATION: Religious war, System V vs. AIX
* TECHNICAL THUG: Weeps.
* ADMINISTRATIVE FASCIST: AIX-- doesn't much care for the OS, but loves
the jackboots.
* MANIAC: System V, but keeps AIX skills up, knowing full well how much
Big Financial Institutions love IBM...
* IDIOT: AIX.
SITUATION: Balky printer daemons.
* TECHNICAL THUG: Rewrites lpd in FORTH.
* ADMINISTRATIVE FASCIST: Puts printer use policy in motd. Calls customer
support every time the printer freezes. Tries to get user who submitted
the most recent job fired.
* MANIAC: Writes script that kills all the daemons, clears all the print
queues, and maybe restarts the daemons. Runs it once a hour from cron.
* IDIOT:
# kill -9 /dev/lp ; /dev/lp &
SITUATION: OS upgrade.
* TECHNICAL THUG: Reads source code of new release, takes only what he
likes.
* ADMINISTRATIVE FASCIST: Instigates lawsuit against the vendor for
having shipped a product with bugs in it in the first place.
* MANIAC:
# uptime
1:33pm up 19 days, 22:49, 167 users, load average: 6.49, 6.45, 6.31
# wall
Well, it's upgrade time. Should take a few hours. And good luck on that
5:00 deadline, guys! We're all pulling for you!
^D
* IDIOT:
# dd if=/dev/rmt8 of=/vmunix
SITUATION: Balky mail.
* TECHNICAL THUG: Rewrites sendmail.cf from scratch. Rewrites sendmail in
SNOBOL. Hacks kernel to implement file locking. Hacks kernel to
implement "better" semaphores. Rewrites sendmail in assembly. Hacks
kernel to . . .
* ADMINISTRATIVE FASCIST: Puts mail use policy in motd. Locks accounts
that go over mail use quota. Keeps quota low enough that people go back
to interoffice mail, thus solving problem.
* MANIAC:
# kill -9 `ps -augxww | grep sendmail | awk '{print $2}'`
# rm -f /usr/spool/mail/*
# wall
Mail is down. Please use interoffice mail until we have it back up.
^D
# write max
I've got my boots and backpack. Ready to leave for Mount Tam?
^D
* IDIOT:
# echo "HELP!" | mail tech_support.AT.vendor.com%kremvax%bitnet!BIFF!!!
SITUATION: Users want phone list application.
* TECHNICAL THUG: Writes RDBMS in perl and Smalltalk. Users give up and
go back to post-it notes.
* ADMINISTRATIVE FASCIST: Oracle. Users give up and go back to post-it
notes.
* MANIAC: Tells the users to use flat files and grep, the way God meant
man to keep track of phone numbers. Users give up and go back to
post-it notes.
* IDIOT:
% dd ibs=80 if=/dev/rdisk001s7 | grep "Fred"
TYPICAL ROOT .cshrc FILE:
* TECHNICAL THUG: Longer than eight kilobytes. Sources the output of a
perl script, rewrites itself.
* ADMINISTRATIVE FASCIST: Typical lines include:
umask 777
alias cd 'cd \!*; rm -rf ching *hack mille rogue xtrek >& /dev/null &'
* MANIAC: Typical lines include:
alias rm 'rm -rf \!*'
alias hose kill -9 '`ps -augxww | grep \!* | awk \'{print $2}\'`'
alias kill 'kill -9 \!* ; kill -9 \!* ; kill -9 \!*'
alias renice 'echo Renice\? You must mean kill -9.; kill -9 \!*'
* IDIOT: Typical lines include:
alias dir ls
alias era rm
alias kitty cat
alias process_table ps
setenv DISPLAY vt100
HOBBIES, TECHNICAL:
* TECHNICAL THUG: Writes entries for Obsfuscated C contest. Optimizes
INTERCAL scripts. Maintains ENIAC emulator. Virtual reality .
* ADMINISTRATIVE FASCIST: Bugs office. Audits card-key logs. Modifies old
TVs to listen in on cellular phone conversations. Listens to police
band.
* MANIAC: Volunteers at Survival Research Labs. Bugs office. Edits
card-key logs. Modifies old TVs to listen in on cellular phone
conversations. Jams police band.
* IDIOT: Ties shoes. Maintains COBOL decimal to roman numeral converter.
Rereads flowcharts from his salad days at Rand.
HOBBIES, NONTECHNICAL:
* TECHNICAL THUG: Drinks "Smart Drinks." Attends raves. Hangs out at
poetry readings and Whole Earth Review events and tries to pick up
Birkenstock MOTAS.
* ADMINISTRATIVE FASCIST: Reads _Readers Digest_ and _Mein Kampf_.
Sometimes turns up car radio and sings along to John Denver. Golfs.
Drinks gin martinis. Hangs out in yuppie bars and tries to pick up
dominatrixes.
* MANIAC: Reads _Utne Reader_ and _Mein Kampf_. Faithfully attends
Dickies and Ramones concerts. Punches out people who say "virtual
reality." Drinks damn near anything, but favors Wild Turkey, Black
Bush, and grain alcohol. Hangs out in neighborhood bars and tries to
pick up MOTAS by drinking longshoremen under the table .
* IDIOT: Reads _Time_ and _Newsweek_-- and *believes* them. Drinks
Jagermeister. Tries to pick up close blood relations-- often succeeds,
producting next generation of idiots.
COMPOUND SYSTEM ADMINISTRATORS:
* TECHNICAL FASCIST: Hacks kernel & writes a horde of scripts to prevent
folk from ever using more than their fair share of system resources.
Resulting overhead and load brings system to its knees.
* TECHNICAL MANIAC: Writes scripts that SEEM to be monitoring the system,
but are actually encrypting large lists of passwords. Uses nearby nodes
as beta test sites for worms.
* TECHNICAL IDIOT: Writes superuser-run scripts that sooner or later do
an "rm -rf /".
* FASCISTIC MANIAC: At first hint of cracker incursions, whether real or
imagined, shuts down system by triggering water-on-the-brain detectors
and Halon system.
* FASCISTIC IDIOT:
# cp /dev/null /etc/passwd
* MANIACAL IDIOT: Napalms the CPU.
------------------------------
Date: Thu, 2 Oct 1997 13:05:01 -0400 (EDT)
From: Nev Dull <nev@bostic.com>
Subject: Patient was alert and unresponsive.
To: nev@bostic.com (/dev/null)
Forwarded-by: Keith Sklower <sklower@CS.Berkeley.EDU>
Forwarded-by: jamesorr@wpe.com Tue Sep 23 18:18:33 1997
Downloaded from obgyn.net (see what the OB docs find amusing):
A collective from medical interview records written by various paramedics,
emergency room receptionists, and (we are afraid) a doctor or two at major
hospitals:
The baby was delivered, the cord clamped and cut and handed to the
pediatrician, who breathed and cried immediately.
Exam of genitalia reveals that he is circus sized.
The skin was moist and dry.
Rectal exam revealed a normal size thyroid.
The patient had waffles for breakfast and anorexia for lunch.
She stated that she had been constipated for most of her life
until 1989 when she got a divorce.
Between you and me, we ought to be able to get this lady pregnant.
The patient was in his usual state of good health until his
airplane ran out of gas and crashed.
I saw your patient today, who is still under our car for physical
therapy.
The patient lives at home with his mother, father, and pet turtle,
who is presently enrolled in day care three times a week.
Bleeding started in the rectal area and continued all the way to
Los Angeles.
Both breasts are equal and reactive to light and accommodation.
She is numb from her toes down.
Exam of genitalia was completely negative except for the right
foot.
While in the emergency room, she was examined, X-rated and sent
home.
The lab test indicated abnormal lover function.
The patient was to have a bowel resection. However he took a job
as a stockbroker instead.
Occasional, constant, infrequent headaches.
Coming from Detroit, this man has no children.
Examination reveals a well-developed male lying in bed with his
family in no distress.
Patient was alert and unresponsive.
When she fainted, her eyes rolled around the room.
------------------------------
Date: Fri, 3 Oct 1997 03:50:03 -0600
From: qotd-request@ensu.ucalgary.ca (Quote of the day)
Subject: Quote of the day
To: qotd@ensu.ucalgary.ca (Quote of the day mailing list)
"With ISO 9000 you can still have terrible processes and products. You
can certify a manufacturer that makes life jackets from concrete, as
long as those jackets are made according to the documented procedures
and the company provides the next of kin with instructions on how to
complain about defects."
- Richard Buetow, corporate quality director at Motorola, quoted by Tom
Peters in _The Pursuit of WOW!_.
------------------------------
Date: Sun, 5 Oct 97 05:39:47 -0700
From: Peter Langston <psl@langston.com>
Subject: The Cure for his Winking Problem
To: Fun_People@langston.com
Forwarded-by: DocRadd@aol.com
A man with a winking problem is applying for a position as a sales
representative for a large firm. The interviewer looks over his papers and
says, "This is phenomenal. You've graduated from the best schools; your
recommendations are wonderful, and your experience is unparalleled.
Normally, we'd hire you without a second thought. However, a sales
representative has a highly visible position, and we're afraid that your
constant winking will scare off potential customers. I'm sorry....we can't
hire you."
"But wait," he said. "If I take two aspirin, I'll stop winking!"
"Really? Great! Show me!"
So the applicant reaches into his jacket pocket and begins pulling out all
sorts of condoms: red condoms, blue condoms, ribbed condoms, flavored
condoms; finally, at the bottom, he finds a packet of aspirin. He tears it
open, swallows the pills, and stops winking.
"Well," said the interviewer, "that's all well and good, but this is a
respectable company, and we will not have our employees womanizing all over
the country!"
"Womanizing? What do you mean? I'm a happily married man!"
"Well then, how do you explain all these condoms?"
"Oh, that," he sighed. "Have you ever walked into a pharmacy, winking, and
asked for aspirin?"
------------------------------
Date: Mon, 6 Oct 1997 08:32:49 -0400 (EDT)
From: Larry Auton <lda@control.att.com>
Subject: The Good Old Days
To: spaf
>From a Washington Post Report from Week 228, in which readers were
asked to tell Gen-Xers how much harder they had it in the old days:
Second Runner-Up:
In my day, we couldn't afford shoes, so we went barefoot. In the
winter we had to wrap our feet with barbed wire for traction.
(Bill Flavin, Alexandria)
First Runner-Up:
In my day we didn't have MTV or in-line skates, or any of that
stuff. No, it was 45s and regular old metal-wheeled roller
skates, and the 45s always skipped, so to get them to play right
you'd weigh the needle down with something like quarters, which
we never had because our allowances were too small, so we'd
use our skate keys instead and end up forgetting they were taped
to the record player arm so that we couldn't adjust our skates,
which didn't really matter because those crummy metal wheels
would kill you if you hit a pebble anyway, and in those days
roads had real pebbles on them, not like today.
(Russell Beland, Springfield)
And the winner of the velour bicentennial poster:
In my day, we didn't have no rocks. We had to go down to the
creek and wash our clothes by beating them with our heads.
(Barry Blyveis, Columbia)
Honorable Mentions:
In my day, we didn't have dogs or cats. All I had was Silver
Beauty, my beloved paper clip.
(Jennifer Hart, Arlington)
In my day, attitudes were different. For example, women didn't
like sex. At least that is what they told me.
(Tom Witte, Gaithersburg)
When I was your age, we didn't have fake doggie-do. We only had
real doggie-do, and no one thought it was a damn bit funny.
(Brendan Bassett, Columbia)
Back in the 1970s we didn't have the space shuttle to get all
excited about. We had to settle for men walking on the crummy
moon.
(Russell Beland, Springfield)
In my day, we didn't have days. There was only time for work,
time for prayer and time for sleep. The sheriff would go around
and tell everyone when to change.
(Elden Carnahan, Laurel)
In my day, people could only dream of hitchhiking a ride on a
comet.
(David Ronka, Charlottesville)
In my day, we didn't have fancy health-food restaurants. Every
day we ate lots of easily recognizable animal parts, along with
potatoes drenched in melted fat from those animals. And we're
all as strong as AAGGKK-GAAK Urrgh. Thud.
(Tom Witte, Gaithersburg)
In my day, we didn't have hand-held calculators. We had to do
addition on our fingers. To subtract, we had to have some
fingers amputated.
(Jon Patrick Smith, Washington)
In my day, we didn't get that disembodied, slightly ticked-off
voice saying 'Doors closing.' We got on the train, the doors
closed, and if your hand was sticking out it scraped along the
tunnel all the damn way to the Silver Spring station and it was
a bloody stump at the end. But the base fare was only a dollar.
(Russell Beland, Springfield)
In my day, we didn't have water. We had to smash together our
own hydrogen and oxygen atoms.
(Diana Hugue, Bowie)
In my day, we didn't have Strom Thurmond. Oh, wait. Yes we did.
(Peg Sheeran, Vienna)
Kids today think the world revolves around them. In my day, the
sun revolved around the world, and the world was perched on the
back of a giant tortoise.
(Jonathan Paul, Garrett Park)
In my day, we wore our pants up around our armpits. Monstrous
wedgies, but we looked snappy.
(Bruce Evans, Washington)
Back in my day, '60 Minutes' wasn't just a bunch of gray-haired
liberal 80-year-old guys. It was a bunch of gray-haired liberal
60-year-old guys.
(Russell Beland, Springfield, & Jerry Pannullo, Kensington)
In my day, we didn't have virtual reality. If a one-eyed
razorback barbarian warrior was chasing you with an ax, you just
had to hope you could outrun him.
(Sarah M. Wolford, Hanover)
Copyright 1997 The Washington Post Company
------------------------------
Date: Thu, 2 Oct 1997 14:05:01 -0400 (EDT)
From: Nev Dull <nev@bostic.com>
Subject: Users have permission to get thrilled in advance.
To: nev@bostic.com (/dev/null)
Forwarded-by: Dave Del Torto <ddt@pgp.com>
INSTRUCTIONS FOR MICROSOFT'S NEW TV DINNER PRODUCT
You must first remove the plastic cover. By doing so you agree to accept
and honor Microsoft rights to all TV dinners. You may not give anyone else
a bite of your dinner (which would constitute an infringement of
Microsoft's rights). You may, however, let others smell and look at your
dinner and are encouraged to tell them how good it is.
If you have a PC microwave oven, insert the dinner into the oven. Set the
oven using these keystrokes:
\mstv.dinn.//08.5min@50%heat//
Then enter: <ms//start.cook_dindin/yummy\|/yum~yum:-)gohot#cookme.
If you have a Mac oven, insert the dinner and press start. The oven will
set itself and cook the dinner.
If you have a Unix oven, insert the dinner, enter the ingredients of the
dinner (found on the package label), the weight of the dinner, and the
desired level of cooking and press start. The oven will calculate the time
and heat and cook the dinner exactly to your specification.
Be forewarned that Microsoft dinners may crash, in which case your oven
must be restarted. This is a simple procedure. Remove the dinner from the
oven and enter:
ms.nodamn.good/tryagain\again/again.crap
This process may have to be repeated. Try unplugging the microwave and
then doing a cold reboot. If this doesn't work, contact your hardware
vendor.
Many users have reported that the dinner tray is far too big, larger than
the dinner itself, having many useless compartments, most of which are
empty. These are for future menu items. If the tray is too large to fit
in your oven you will need to upgrade your equipment.
Dinners are only available from registered outlets, and only the chicken
variety is currently produced. If you want another variety, call
MicrosoftHelp and they will explain that you really don't want another
variety. Microsoft Chicken is all you really need.
Microsoft has disclosed plans to discontinue all smaller versions of their
chicken dinners. Future releases will only be in the larger family size.
Excess chicken may be stored for future use, but must be saved only in
Microsoft approved packaging.
Microsoft promises a dessert with every dinner after '98. However, that
version has yet to be released. Users have permission to get thrilled in
advance.
Microsoft dinners may be incompatible with other dinners in the freezer,
causing your freezer to self-defrost. This is a feature, not a bug. Your
freezer probably should have been defrosted anyway.
------------------------------
Date: Tue, 30 Sep 97 23:14:37 -0700
From: Peter Langston <psl@langston.com>
Subject: You Might Be A Teacher If...
To: Fun_People@langston.com
Forwarded-by: Rea Mills <ream@gil.net>
Forwarded-by: VirgilTato@aol.com
You Might Be A Teacher If...
(*) You believe the staff room should have a valium salt lick.
(*) You find humor in other people's stupidity.
(*) You want to slap the next person who says, "Must be nice to have all
your holidays and summers free."
(*) You can tell it's a full moon without ever looking outside.
(*) You believe "shallow gene pool" should have its own box on the report
card.
(*) You believe that unspeakable evil will befall you if anyone says,
"Boy, the kids are sure mellow today."
(*) Out in public you feel the urge to talk to strange children and
correct their behavior.
(*) Marking all A's on the report card would make your life SOOOO much
simpler.
(*) You're not talking about a food group when you mention "vegetables."
(*) You believe in aerial spraying of Prozac.
(*) You really encourage an obnoxious parent to check into charter schools
or home schooling.
(*) You've ever had your profession slammed by someone who would never, ever
DREAM of doing your job.
(*) You can't have children of your own, because there is NO name you could
give a child that wouldn't bring on high blood pressure the moment you
heard it.
(*) You think people should be required to get a government permit before
being allowed to reproduce.
(*) You wonder how some parents ever MANAGED to reproduce.
------------------------------
Date: Mon, 06 Oct 1997 10:21:21 -0500
From: Bill Woodward <wpwood@pswtech.com>
Subject: Yucks Digest V7 #15 (shorts)
To: yucks
In message <199710040231.VAA08595@dorsai.cs.purdue.edu> you write:
>
>Date: Mon, 29 Sep 1997 14:05:03 -0400 (EDT)
>From: Nev Dull <nev@bostic.com>
>Subject: Anatomically correct
>To: nev@bostic.com (/dev/null)
>
>Forwarded-by: guy@netapp.com (Guy Harris)
>
>Newsgroups: rec.humor.funny
>From: dds@dana.ucc.nau.edu (Debbie Shutts)
>Subject: Anatomically correct
>
>
>Seen on the warning label of Midol PMS:
>
>"Do not take this product, unless directed by a doctor, if you have
>... difficulty in urination due to enlargement of the prostate gland."
>
You'd think that it would be cheaper to just notify Janet Reno directly.
------------------------------
End of Yucks Digest
------------------------------