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Yucks Digest V1 #77
Yucks Digest Tue, 27 Aug 91 Volume 1 : Issue 77
Today's Topics:
"The VAXorcist" - the ultimate VAX horror story
canopus.stanford.edu goes nova
the maven (fwd)
when it absolutely, positively is tail heavy...
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----------------------------------------------------------------------
Date: 4 Aug 91 10:30:04 GMT
From: crussell@mudder.enet.dec.com (Make a little birdhouse in your soul)
Subject: "The VAXorcist" - the ultimate VAX horror story
Newsgroups: rec.humor.funny
Remember how much fun you had upgrading your systems to VMS V5.0?
Well, you had it easy......
THE VAXORCIST
-------------
A rough draft of a video presentation
by Christopher Russell
Operations Manager, Dept of Mechanical Engineering
University of Maryland
(SCENE: Inside of a VAX computer room. CREDITS ROLL as the SYSMGR is
sitting in front of the console terminal, typing. He pauses, picks up a
small magnetic tape, walks over to a tape drive, mounts it, and returns to
the console where he continues typing.)
(There is a knock at the door. SYSMGR walks to the door and opens it,
revealing USER.)
USER: Any idea when the system will be up?
SYSMGR: Well, I just installed version 5.0 of VMS, so I'm going to run
some diagnostics on it overnight to make sure it works alright. Assuming
everything goes alright, the system should be up first thing tomorrow
morning.
USER: Great. Thanks. (Exits)
(SYSMGR closes the door and returns to the console.)
ROD SERLING-LIKE VOICE: This is John Smith, University of Maryland System
Manager. In an effort to make his system the best it can be, he has just
installed VMS Version 5.0 onto his VAX. But little does he know that the
Version 5 documentation kit from Digital includes a one-way ticket to ...
the VMS TWILIGHT ZONE!
(ominous music - fade out)
(Fade in. The SYSMGR scans the console for a moment, then turns, picks up
his coat and walks to the door. He stops at the door for a moment, looking
back at the big machine. Finally, he turns out the light and exits,
closing the door behind him.)
(Cut to the Console Terminal. We read the following as it is printed on
the console terminal:)
VMS V5.0 DIAGNOSTICS --
DIAGNOSTICS - PHASE 1 STARTING...
DIAGNOSTICS - PHASE 1 FINISHED SUCCESSFULLY.
DIAGNOSTICS - PHASE 2 STARTING...
TESTING MICROCODE ... SUCCESSFUL
TESTING DECNET ... SUCCESSFUL
TESTING LICENSE MANAGEMENT UTILITY ... SUCCESSFUL
TESTING SYSTEM SERVICES ... SUCCESSFUL
TESTING HIGHLY EXPERIMENTAL AND COMPLETELY UNDOCUMENTED AI ROUTINE ...
(Cut to view of the Tape in the Tape drive. The tape spins for a moment,
and suddenly stops.)
(Cut to view of the Machine Room. A fog has begun drifting across the
floor, and the hardware is slowly being backlit by a pulsing red light.
A peal of weird laughter cuts through the silence. A variety of bizarre
things occur: A VT100 monitor sitting on a table slowly rotates 360
degrees; the tape drive opens and tape begins spewing out of it; slime
begins pouring out of a disk drive; the line printer begins form-feeding
like mad. These continue for several minutes, or for as long as we can
keep them up. FADE OUT)
(SCENE: Hallway outside of the computer room. SYSMGR walks up to the door
and is met by USER.)
USER: System going to be up soon?
SYSMGR: (as he speaks, he tries to open the Machine room door, but the
door is apparently stuck.) The diagnostics should be done by now, so we
should be up in about 15 minutes... (he succeeds in opening the door, but
is confronted by floor to ceiling magnetic tape. Tangled at about eye
level is an empty tape reel. SYSMGR takes the reel and looks at it. CLOSE
UP of the reel so we can read the label, which reads: VAX/VMS V5.0
DIAGNOSTIC KIT.) (to USER) ...give or take a few days....
(SCENE: View of TSR (Telephone Support Rep) from behind as she is sitting
in a cubicle, a terminal in front of her. Beside her on the wall is a
poster which reads "Digital Has It Now - But You Can't Have It". We can
see the terminal, but we should not be able to read what is on it. She is
wearing a headset.)
TSR: Colorado Customer Support. What is your access number, please?
SYSMGR VOICE: 31576
TSR: And your name?
SYSMGR VOICE: John Smith.
(Cut to SYSMGR standing beside his console. He his holding a phone to his
head with his right hand, and holding a printout in his left which he is
perusing while he talks on the phone.)
TSR VOICE: And what operating system are you using?
SYSMGR: VMS version 5.
TSR VOICE: And is this a problem with the operating system or a layered
product?
(As the SYSMGR looks up from the printout, his eyes suddenly widen and
he drops the printout and ducks. At that second, a disk platter flies
through the air where his head just was. Slowly, SYSMGR stands up and
looks to where the disk went. PAN BACK to reveal a stack of boxes with a
disk embedded in one of them at neck height.)
SYSMGR: (into the phone) Operating System. Definitely the Operating System.
(Cut back to TSR sitting at her desk.)
TSR: Can you describe the problem, please?
(SYSMGR voice can now only be heard as mumbling)
TSR: Yes... Tape drive spewing tape into the air... yes... Line printers
printing backwards... yes... miscellaneous hardware flying through the
air... uh huh... disk drives melting... yeah... strange voices coming from
the CPU board... I see... yes. Is that all? (pause as she finishes typing
at the terminal) Well, I'm afraid that that team is busy at the moment,
can I have them get back to you?
(CUT TO SCENE: MANAGER sitting behind a large desk in a plush office.
DEVELOPER is pacing in front of him, hands behind his back.)
(SUBTITLE: Meanwhile at Maynard...)
MANAGER: So tell me! What the hell happened?!
DEVELOPER: (turning to face MANAGER) It's a glitch, a fluke. A one in a
billion chance. And it's not Development's fault. Not really.
MANAGER: Then who's fault is it?
DEVELOPER: We traced it back to the Software Distribution Center. It
seems that there was a mixup and some of the code for the experimental AI
routine was copied onto the distribution from the wrong optical disk. (He
removes a CD from his jacket) This one, to be precise.
MANAGER: And what's that?
DEVELOPER: (reading the label) "Ozzy Osbourne's Greatest Hits".
Normally, it wouldn't have made any difference, as the AI routine isn't
used yet. But when they began running diagnostics, it hit the routine and
the computer just sort of became a thing possessed.
MANAGER: Wonderful. Were any other distributions affected?
DEVELOPER: No, just the University of Maryland's.
MANAGER: Well, that's a relief. We've got to get them taken care of
before anyone finds out. Can you imagine what Digital Review would do
if they heard about this?
DEVELOPER: We could always blame it on the Chaos Computer Group.
MANAGER: No, we've already used that one. This calls for drastic action.
(MANAGER picks up the phone and begins flipping through the rolodex)
DEVELOPER: Who are you going to send?
(CUT to the Rolodex so that we can read the cards. The first card reads:
SYSTEM PROBLEMS - Ron Jankowski, x474
he flips to the next card:
BAD SYSTEM PROBLEMS - Bob Candless, x937
he flips to the next card:
REALLY BAD SYSTEM PROBLEMS - Michelle French, x365
he flips to the next card
OUTRAGEOUSLY BAD SYSTEM PROBLEMS - Mike West, x887
he flips to the next card and taps the card with forefinger:
SYSTEM FUCKED UP BEYOND ALL RECOGNITION - The VAXorcist, x666
(CUT to Machine Room. SYSMGR is standing by the console holding
an RA60 disk cover and using it as a shield to defend himself from various
pieces of hardware which are flying at him from off-camera. There is
a knock at the door. Slowly, SYSMGR makes his way to the door and opens
it. Standing there, backlit amidst outrageous amounts of fog is the
VAXORCIST, wearing a trench coat and fedora, and carrying a briefcase.)
VAXORCIST: (in a hushed voice) DEC sent me. I hear you're having some
problems.
(CUT to SYSMGR OFFICE, a small but pleasant office with posters on the
walls and clutter on the desk. As the VAXORCIST enters, he removes his
coat and hat, revealing a very techie outfit beneath. He is wearing a DEC
badge.)
SYSMGR: (Frantic) Problems? Problems?!? You could say I'm having some
problems. 4.6 was fine. 4.7 was fine. I install 5.0 and all Hell breaks
loose. The damn thing ate two of my operators this morning!
VAXORCIST: Calm down, everything will be alright. I've dealt with
situations like this before.
SYSMGR: You have?
VAXORCIST: Four years ago at an installation in Oregon, a programmer
renamed his Star Trek program to VMB.EXE and copied it into the system
directory. When the system was rebooted the next day it phasored the
entire accounting department claiming that they were Klingon spies. There
was a similar problem in Texas three years ago, and then, of course, there
was the IRS fiasco that we're not allowed to talk about. But don't worry.
These things can be fixed. Before I can help you, though, I have to ask
you a few questions. (The VAXorcist opens his briefcase and removes a
clipboard) Now, according to the report, the strange occurences began after
you installed VMS Version 5, is that correct?
SYSMGR: Yes, that's correct.
VAXORCIST: Now, did you carefully read the Installation Guide for VMS
Version 5?
SYSMGR: (confused) Installation Guide?
VAXORCIST: Yes, it should have come with the Release Notes.
SYSMGR: (still confused) Release Notes? (SYSMGR begins rooting about on
his disk, shifting papers around as if he might find them underneath)
VAXORCIST: (annoyed) Yes, Release Notes. They should have come with your
documentation upgrade.
SYSMGR: (completely confused - looks up from his rooting through the
papers on his desk) Documentation upgrade?
VAXORCIST: (angry) YES! The Documentation upgrade for your VMS
Documentation Set!
SYSMGR: Documentation S...? Oh, you mean the grey binders? They're over
there. (he points to the wall behind the VAXORCIST. The VAXORCIST turns
and we see a closed glass-front bookcase packed with grey binders. A small
red sign on the front of the bookcase reads: "IN CASE OF EMERGENCY, BREAK
GLASS").
VAXORCIST: Right. This is going to be tougher than I thought. Let's go
take a look at your system and see just how bad everything is.
(CUT to the Machine Room. The room is neat and tidy and there is no sign
that anything is wrong. The VAXORCIST enters the room with the SYSMGR
behind him.)
VAXORCIST: Everything looks okay to me.
SYSMGR: Maybe it's hibernating.
VAXORCIST: Unlikely. It's probably trying to lure us into a false sense
of security.
SYSMGR: Sounds like VMS alright. (VAXORCIST gives him a dirty look)
VAXORCIST: I'm going to have to test it's power. This could get ugly, you
may want to leave. (The SYSMGR shakes his head no. The VAXORCIST brings
hiself up to full height in front of the VAX and points a finger at it)
By the power of DEC, I expel thee from this system! (Clap of thunder)
(CUT to door to the machine room. The SYSMGR is pulling a cart on which
sits the VAXORCIST wrapped from head to toe in magnetic tape)
SYSMGR: Any other bright ideas?
VAXORCIST: Just shut up and get this damn stuff off of me.
(CUT to SYSMGRs office)
VAXORCIST: (Writing on the clipboard) Things look pretty bad. I think
we're going to need a full-scale VAXorcism here.
SYSMGR: Is there anything I can do to help?
VAXORCIST: As a matter of fact, there is. We've got to incapacitate the
VAX to keep it from causing any more damage until I'm ready to deal with
it. Now, I've got some software here that will do that, but it's got to be
installed. (VAXORCIST hands SYSMGR a tape) With that running, the CPU
will be so bogged down, the VAX won't be able to harm anybody.
SYSMGR: (Examining the tape) What is it? A program to calculate pi to the
last digit?
VAXORCIST: Better than that. It starts up All-in-1 with a 10 user load.
(CUT to Hall outside of Computer Room. The VAXORCIST approaches the door.
As the SYSMGR approaches the door, the VAXORCIST holds him back.
VAXORCIST: I appreciate your help, but it won't be safe for you in there.
SYSMGR: What? You're going in there to face that thing alone? You're
nuts!
VAXORCIST: Hey, it's my job. (VAXORCIST turns to the door)
SYSMGR: Wait a minute. (VAXORCIST stops and turns around) You better
take this with you. (SYSMGR removes a very large and very nasty looking
gun from the inside of his jacket)
VAXORCIST: (Smiling) No, I won't need that. I've got something more
powerful. (VAXORCIST holds up a small guide-sized orange binder, opens it,
and shows it to SYSMGR. CUT to closeup of the book which reads: "GUIDE TO
VAX/VMS SYSTEM EXORCISM")
(CUT to view of Machine room door as seen by the VAX. The VAXORCIST enters
the room and stands in front of the VAX. CUT to view of the Machine Room
showing the SYSMGR confronting the VAX)
VAXORCIST: By the power of DEC, I command thee, Evil Spirit, to show
thyself.
VAX: Bugger off.
VAXORCIST: (Shaken) What?
VAX: I said Bugger off! Now get out of here before I core-dump all over
you!
VAXORCIST: (Recovered) Threaten me not, oh Evil one! For I speak with
the power of DEC, and I command thee to show thyself!
(A rumble is heard and again the VAX becomes backlit by red lights and a
fog begins to roll across the floor. The VAX cabinet doors slowly creak
open to reveal two small red lights in the dark cabinet which appear to be
the creature's eyes)
VAX: There. Happy? Now get out of here before I drop a tape drive on
your private parts.
VAXORCIST: (Opening the orange binder, he begins intoning SHUTDOWN.COM in
gregorian chant. The VAX screams.)
VAX: Stop that! Stop that! You, you DOS LOVER! Your mother manages RSX
systems in Hell!
(The VAXORCIST continues and the VAX screams again.)
VAX: Stop it! (a large wad of computer tape is thrown at the VAXORCIST,
apparently from the VAX). Eat oxide, bit-bucket breath!
(The VAXORCIST continues and the VAX screams once more.)
VAX: Mount me! Mount me!
VAXORCIST: (finishing the intonation) And now, by the power of DEC, I
banish thee back to the null-space from which you came! (The VAX screams
and the scream fades to silence.)
(CUT to the doorway of the Machine room, which now stands open. The
VAXORCIST is once again wearing his trench coat and fedora.)
SYSMGR: So it's over?
VAXORCIST: (Putting his hat on) Yes, it's over.
SYSMGR: (Shaking the VAXORCISTs hand) Thank God. Listen, thanks a lot. I
don't know what we would have done without you.
VAXORCIST: Hey, it's the least we could do. The Software Distribution
Center should be sending you a patch tape in a week or two to patch out
that AI routine and prevent this from happening again. Sign here. (he
hands SYSMGR the clipboard, SYSMGR signs at the bottom and hands it back)
Have a good one. (VAXORCIST leaves).
(SYSMGR enters the machine room. Camera follows him in.)
SYSMGR: (Calling to someone off-camera) Okay, you guys, let's get
rolling. Get those backup tapes out. We've got a clean system again!
(cheers are heard from off-camera. The SYSMGR leaves the picture, leaving
only the VAX with it's cabinet doors still open in the picture. Slow zoom
in to the LSI unit. Slowly, the LSI unit begins to emit a pulsing red
glow)
(Fade to black. CREDITS ROLL)
------
Copyright (C) 1991 by Christopher Russell (crussell@eng.umd.edu). Please
feel free to copy this and pass it around if it amuses you, as long as
this notice is left intact.
Any similarity between characters appearing in this script and any persons,
creatures, or entities living, dead, or otherwise is purely coincidental.
I am no longer an employee of the University of Maryland, so I'm not
particularly bothered if you think that they are responsible for any of
this. Unless it's funny, then it's mine.
Thanks to my friends and colleagues at the University of Maryland and
elsewhere for their help and encouragement in the developement of the
script and the video.
------------------------------
Date: Thu, 1 Aug 91 03:14:58 HST
From: joe@montebello.soest.hawaii.edu (Joe Dellinger)
Subject: canopus.stanford.edu goes nova
[This is from the Risks digest. It struck me as particularly
bizarre. Sun tried to stick us with some Hitachi monitors a while
back. Now we know why -- they were trying to destroy the Earth's
atmosphere with 2/3 the allowed concentration of Formalin. --spaf]
On June 18, 1990 I reported how the Hitachi monitor of my color Sun
3-110 workstation had suddenly released enough irritating fumes to
prompt the evacuation of our (extremely poorly ventilated) Stanford
building the previous evening. Here is the promised followup...
Stanford Health and Safety was quite concerned about the incident;
there are a lot of Suns at Stanford, and the fumes were still powerful
enough a day after the event that persons entering my office would
develop a headache and watering eyes within a few minutes. People in
our building naturally wanted to know what toxic chemicals they were
being exposed to. Health and Safety wanted to know if this might
happen again. (I wanted to know when I could use my office again.)
The Sun front-office people that Health and Safety first contacted
insisted that this failure mode was virtually unknown and it would
almost certainly never recur. We were suspicious of this claim, since
in our research group we owned only six Suns of that particular model,
and mine was the _second_ monitor to fail this way within as many
years. (The first one fortunately had failed when the building was
empty and when the ventilation was working better, so Health and
Safety didn't get called that time.)
My posting to risks which appeared a few days later netted a handful
of accounts about similar incidents, mostly in Europe. More
importantly, it prompted an immediate response from more informed
people within Sun [Health and Safety was still trying to beat past the
outermost layer of bureaucracy by telephone with little success]. Sun
quickly retrieved the offending monitor from Health and Safety (who
had carted it off and stored it as toxic waste) and launched an
investigation. Sun determined the part that failed was a capacitor in
the high-voltage line. This caused the flyback transformer coils to
overheat, which in turn caused "a small amount of the case material of
the flyback transformer to burn". Sun asked Hitachi, who made the
monitor, to investigate what was in the resulting smoke. The
conclusion was "There were trace quantities of a number of chemicals
in the smoke. We do not believe that a short exposure to the small
amount of smoke emitted represents a hazard to the individuals
involved."
Sun helpfully included a copy of Hitachi's lab tests showing what they
got when they burned some transformer casing in a test chamber. It
showed 10 parts per million CO (with 100 the maximum allowed by the
American Conference of Governmental Industrial Hygienists), 800 ppm
CO2 (no limit), 2 ppm Formalin (3 max allowed), 1.2 ppm Toluene (150
max), 1.7 ppm Ethylbenzene (125 max), and 3.4 ppm Styrene (100 max).
This seemed strange to me; if the smoke were so innocuous why did
breathing the air in my office still make me sick more than a day
after the event, despite my best attempts to dissipate the fumes? I
wanted to know how big a sample Hitachi had burned, and how much air
the resulting smoke had been diluted in!
The contact person at Sun seemed a little annoyed that I still wasn't
satisfied, and resignedly explained again and again that "parts per
million" was independent of the air volume. It didn't matter what size
room the Sun was in, how good the ventilation was, or how much
transformer case burned. I pointed out that it was a good thing my
sun hadn't been outside, or the entire Earth's atmosphere would be
contaminated with 2/3 the legal limit for Formalin. Right? They
promised to get back in touch with Hitachi.
Three months later I got another letter. It had the same numbers (in
ppm) as before, and again had no information about the volume of the
test chamber or the amount of transformer casing material burned in
the test. It further patiently explained "All of the measured smoke
constituents are significantly below OSHA's established minimum
exposure levels. Since the smoke examined in the analysis is of the
same type as emitted during flyback transformer failures at Stanford,
no significant concerns are raised by the monitor failures you
experienced." I tried calling and asking for clarification again, got
the same explanations about ppm being independent of air volume (why
couldn't I understand such a simple concept?!). Finally I gave up
(after all the smell was gone by this time and there seemed to be no
ill aftereffects).
The second letter did have some interesting new information, however.
Previously we had been told our monitor failures were practically
unique; the new letter stated that "When the flyback transformer
failure was discovered the total failure rate per month attributable
to the flyback capacitors was only .4 percent. After the process
improvement, which was promptly implemented, the failure rate was
reduced to .04 percent. Although the newer model is superior, the
older model was within the range of reasonable failure. Sun recognizes
the frustration and disappointment that you must have experienced as a
result of two monitor failures. This is an extremely unusual occurence
[sic] and one that Sun would like to avoid in the future."
Was it unlucky? We had 6 monitors for 3 1/2 years; given Sun's stated
rate of .4% per month, the chance of at least one failure was
1.-(1.-.004)^(12*3.5*6) = 64%. Having 2 failures instead of just 1
_was_ probably a little unlucky. Was our problem _unusual_? Probably
yes; from reading between the lines it sounds like the problem only
occurred with certain smaller-sized Hitachi monitors delivered around
the same time ours were, Sept 1986 - Jan 1987. Our bad luck was in
getting 6 monitors from this batch, and then keeping them in near
constant use for several years.
The letter continued "Sun is prepared therefore to replace, at no
charge, the four monitors remaining in the Department of Geophysics
... for your understanding that the failure rates are negligible and
that in any event, monitor failures are unlikely to pose future
problems." Our research group took the deal. Not surprisingly, the
Geophysics department at Stanford has had no more such incidents since
the monitors were replaced (despite a significant expansion in the
total number of Suns in the building).
Since my research group accepted the deal, I thought it was
appropriate to wait until I graduated and had left Stanford before
posting this. I do have a Sun on my desk here in Hawaii and like it a
lot; I don't expect it will go "Nova" like canopus.stanford.edu did!
I'll let readers draw their own conclusions about the various sorts of
RISKS illustrated by my story...
------------------------------
Date: Fri, 23 Aug 91 11:09:01 EDT
From: mnemonic@eff.org (Mike Godwin)
Subject: the maven (fwd)
To: eniac@mejac.palo-alto.ca.us (eniac@mejac.palo-alto.ca.us)
The Maven
Once upon a weekend weary, while I pondered, beat and bleary,
Over many a faintly printed hexadecimal dump of core --
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some Source user chatting, chatting of some Mavenlore.
"Just a power glitch," I muttered, "printing out an underscore --
Just a glitch and nothing more."
Ah, distinctly I remember that old Teletype ASR,
And the paper tape dispenser left its chad upon the floor.
Eagerly I thought, "Tomorrow, maybe I will go and borrow
>From my friend an Apple micro -- micro with a monitor --
So that I can chat at leisure, and then throw away my paper --
Lying all across the floor.
And the repetitious tapping which had nearly caught me napping
Woke me -- and convinced me that it could not be an underscore;
Appearances can be deceiving, so I sat there, still believing;
"My terminal must be receiving more express mail from the Source --
That's it -- my terminal's receiving new express mail from the Source;
Posted mail and nothing more."
But my curiosity grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
I stood up and crossed the room to see what waited there in store.
Sticking up from the terminal were three inches or so of paper;
Carefully my trembling hand tore off the scrap, and then I swore --
"What is this?", I cried in anger -- here I threw it to the floor;
Blankness there and nothing more.
Deep into its workings peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
What could cause the thing to stutter, dropping twenty lines or more?
But the ribbon was unbroken, and the "HERE IS" gave no token,
I thought the Teletype was broken, so I typed the number "4"!
This I typed, and then the modem echoed back the number "4" --
Merely this and nothing more.
Back then to my work returning, with my temper slowly burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping something louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is just another RESET message;
With my luck, there's probably expensive data to restore!" --
As it chattered, still I sat there, trying to complete my chore.
"'Tis the Source and nothing more."
Such a simple program, really -- just to fill 1K of memory
With the Fibonacci series, but when it reached 144,
It had failed to set the high bit -- suddenly, I thought I had it!
But, just as I found the bug, my train of thought derailed once more --
And the Teletype's loud bell rang, then it sat just like before --
Rang, and sat, and nothing more.
Suddenly, I couldn't stand it -- Just as if someone had planned it,
Now the paper, like a bandit, rolled its way across the floor!
As I put it back, I spied two words: CHAT TCX122 --
Which I knew must be the Maven, chatting from the Eastern shore.
Presently the terminal received and printed one word more --
Quoth the Maven, "#4?"
Such a message I was having difficulty understanding,
For his letters little meaning -- little relevancy bore;
Though I must admit believing that no living human being
Ever could remember seeing evidence of Mavenlore --
Tell me now, what kind of Maven of the saintly days of yore
Could have written "#4?"
But the Maven, waiting for me to reply, transmitted only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing farther then he ventured; silently the Teletype purred --
Till I scarcely more than murmured: "Stars and garters, what a bore!" -
-
Whereupon the terminal abruptly started with a roar;
Then it typed out, "#4?!"
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so tersely spoken
"Doubtless," said I, "what we have here could not be a line error.
Failure to communicate, perhaps -- it's late and getting later --
But I've never seen a greater unsolved mystery to explore."
Then I knew I'd never rest until I solved his semaphore ...
"Who am I, the Prisoner?"
But the Maven didn't answer; no more data did he transfer,
So I wheeled my Herman Miller office chair across the floor;
Then upon the plastic sinking, I betook myself to linking
Logic unto logic, thinking what this ominous bard of yore --
What this unknown, unseen, unsung, unrepentant bard of yore
Meant in typing "#4?!"
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the dour and cryptic Maven now whose words I puzzled o'er;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the seat back's plastic lining that the lamp-light fluoresced o'er,
But whose flattened plastic lining with the lamp fluorescing o'er
Shall compress, ah, little more!
All at once my thoughts grew clearer -- as if looking in a mirror,
Now at last I understood where I had sent the number 4!
"Look," I typed, "I was just testing -- did you think that I was
jesting?
Why was it so interesting that I typed the number 4?
Did you think that you were chatting to some foolish sophomore?"
Quoth the Maven, "... #4?"
"Maven!" said I, "Great defender! Venerable comprehender!
Whether you began this chat, or were a victim of error,
Mystified, and yet undaunted, by this quandary confronted," --
(Could my terminal be haunted?) -- "tell me truly, I implore --
Can you understand my message? -- tell me, tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Maven, "#4!"
"Maven!" said I, "Great pretender! Ancient Jewish moneylender!
By the Source that now connects us -- by the holy Oath you swore --
Tell me in your obscure wisdom if, within your distant modem,
You receive my words unbroken by backspace or underscore --
Tell me why my Teletype prints nothing but the number 4!"
Quoth the Maven, "#4?"
"Be that word our sign of parting, bard or friend!" I typed, upstarting
--
"Get back to your aimless chatter and obnoxious Mavenlore!
Leave no token of your intent -- send no messsage that you repent!
Leave my terminal quiescent! -- Quit the chat hereinbefore!
Type control-P (or escape), and quit this chat forevermore!"
Quoth the Maven, "#4..."
And the Maven, notwithstanding, still is chatting, still is chatting
Over my misunderstanding of his cryptic "#4?";
And I calmly pull the cover and remove a certain lever
>From the 33ASR, which I never shall restore;
And a certain ASCII number that lies broken on the floor
Shall be printed -- nevermore!
------------------------------
Date: Thu, 22 Aug 91 20:11:22 EDT
From: hosking%sware.com@mathcs.emory.edu (Doug Hosking)
Subject: when it absolutely, positively is tail heavy...
To: spaf
Caption of a picture from today's Atlanta Journal:
LOS ANGELES - The nose of a Federal Express DC-10 is 30 feet into the air
Wednesday after workers at Los Angeles International Airport loaded too much
cargo into the rear of the craft. A cargo door and the tail of the aircraft
were damaged, but there were no injuries. Federal Express spokesman Armand
Schneider said in Memphis that workers were trying to right the aircraft
and an investigation would be conducted.
[Damn! I knew I should have shipped my brick collection via UPS! --spaf]
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End of Yucks Digest
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