A Geek Love Story

Micro was a real time user and a dedicated multi-user. His broad-band protocol made it easy for him to interface with numerous input/output devices, even if it meant time sharing.

One evening Micro arrived home just as the sun was crashing. He had parked his Motorola 68000 in the main drive – he had missed the 5100 bus that morning, when he noticed an elegant piece of liveware inspecting the daisy wheels in his garden. “She looks user-friendly,” he thought. “I’ll see if she’d like an update tonight.” Mini was her name and she was delightfully engineered with eyes like cobol and a prime mainframe architecture that set Micro’s peripherals networking all over the place.

He shifted over to her casually, admiring the power of her twin 32-bit floating point processors and inquired, “How are you, Honeywell?”

“Yes, I am well,” she responded, batting her optic fibers engagingly and smoothing her console over her curvilinear functions.

Micro thought about a recursive approach but settled for a straight line approximation. “I’m stand-alone tonight,” he said. “How about computing a vector to my base address? I’ll output a byte to eat and maybe we could get offset later on.”

Mini ran a priority process for 2.6 milliseconds then dumped the results. “I’ve been put on a queue myself recently and a rendezvous is just what I need to activate my tasks. I’ll park my machine cycle and meet you inside.” She walked off leaving Micro admiring the way her dynamic resources were allocated and thinking, “Wow, what a cache! I wonder if she’s available for prime time maintenance.”

They sat down at the process table to a platter of fiche and chips and a basket of baudot. Mini was in conversational mode and expanded on ambiguous arguments while Micro gave continuation acknowledgements although, in background, he was analyzing the shortest and least critical path to her entry point. He finally decided on the old ‘Would you like to see some of my benchmark programs’ but Mini anticipated his flow.

Without a prompt, she was up and stripping off her parity bits to reveal the full functionality of her operating system software. “Let’s get BASIC, you RAM,” she commanded. Micro was executing firmware by this stage but his hardware policing module had an accelerated processor and was in danger of overflowing its output buffer – a bug that Micro had been consulting his analyst about. “Core dump!” he complained.

Micro auto-recovered however, when Mini went down on DEC and opened her divide files to reveal her data set ready. He accessed his fully packed root device and was just about to enter her kernel when she attempted an escape sequence.

“Abort!” she cried. “You’re not shielded.”

“Reset, baby,” he said. “I’ve been debugged.”

“But I haven’t got my current loop disabled and I can’t support child processes,” she protested.

“Don’t run away,” he begged. “I’ll generate an interrupt.”

“No, that’s too error prone – and I can’t abort because of my design philosophy.”

Micro was in phase locked oscillations by this stage and could not be terminated. But Mini soon stopped his thrashing by inducing a voltage spike in his main supply, whereupon he fell over with a head crash and went to sleep.

“Computers!” she thought as she compiled herself. “All they ever think about is hex!”

Y zero K

Dear Cassius:

Are you still working on the Y zero K problem? This change from BC to AD is giving us a lot of headaches and we haven’t much time left. I don’t know how people will cope with working the wrong way around. Having been working happily downwards forever, now we have to start thinking upwards. You would think that someone would have thought of it earlier and not left it to us to sort it all out at this last minute.

I spoke to Caesar the other evening. He was livid that Julius hadn’t done something about it when he was sorting out the calendar. He said he could see why Brutus turned nasty. We called in Consultus, but he simply said that continuing downwards using minus BC won’t work and as usual charged a fortune for doing nothing useful. Surely we will not have to throw out all our hardware and start again? MACROHARD will make yet another fortune out of this I suppose.

The money lenders are paranoid of course! They have been told that all usery rates will invert and they will have to pay their clients to take out loans. Its an ill wind ……

As for myself, I just can’t see the sand in an hourglass flowing upwards. We have heard that there are three wise men in the East who have been working on the problem, but unfortunately they won’t arrive until it’s all over. I have heard that there are plans to stable all horses at midnight at the turn of the year as there are fears that they will stop and try to run backwards, causing immense damage to chariots and possible loss of life. Some say the world will cease to exist at the moment of transition.

Anyway, we are still continuing to work on this blasted Y zero K problem. I will send a parchment to you if anything further develops.

If you have any ideas please let me know,

Plutonius

Monkey Cloning

Did you hear about the disaster at a major U.S. University?

A team of scientists were cloning monkeys and one of them blew up.

The researchers are now trying to determine what went wrong by sifting through the Rhesus’ pieces.

Date: Mon, 29 Mar 1999 14:23:57 -0500

Jack Schitt Exposed

Just Who Is Jack Schitt Anyway?

Many people are at a loss for a response when someone says, “You don’t know Jack Schitt.” Now you can handle the situation.

Jack is the only son of Awe Schitt and O. Schitt. Awe Schitt, the fertilizer magnate, married O. Schitt, the owner of Kneedeep N. Schitt Inc.

In turn, Jack Schitt married Noe Schitt, and the deeply religious couple produced 6 children: Holie Schitt, Fulla Schitt, Giva Schitt, Bull Schitt, and the twins: Deap Schitt and Dip Schitt. Against her parent’s wishes, Deap Schitt married Dumb Schitt, a high school drop out.

After being married 15 years, Jack and Noe Schitt divorced. Noe Schitt later married Mr. Sherlock, and because her kids were living with them, she wanted to keep her previous name. She was then known as “Noe Schitt-Sherlock.”

Dip Schitt married Loda Schitt and they produced a nervous son, Chicken Schitt.

Fulla Schitt and Giva Schitt were inseparable throughout childhood and subsequently married the Happens brothers in a dual ceremony. The wedding announcement in the newspaper announced the “Schitt-Happens” wedding.

The Schitt-Happens children were: Dawg, Byrd, and Hoarse. Bull Schitt, the prodigal son, left home to tour the world. He recently returned from Italy with his new bride, Pisa Schitt.

So now when someone says, “You don’t know Jack Schitt,” you can correct them.

Date: Mon, 29 Mar 1999 14:21:18 -0500

Vet’s Second Opinion

A man runs into the vet’s office carrying his dog, screaming for help. The vet rushes him back to an examination room and has him put his dog down on the examination table. The vet examines the still, limp body and after a few moments tells the man that his dog, regrettable, is dead.

The man, clearly agitated and not willing to accept this, demands a second opinion.

The vet goes into the back room and comes out with a cat and puts the cat down next to the dog’s body. The cat sniffs the body, walks from head to tail poking and sniffing the dog’s body and finally looks at the vet and meows. The vet looks at the man and says, “I’m sorry, but the cat thinks that your dog is dead too.”

The man is still unwilling to accept that his dog is dead. The vet brings in a black Labrador. The lab sniffs the body, walks from head to tail, and finally looks at the vet and barks. The vet looks at the man and says, “I’m sorry, but the lab thinks your dog is dead too.”

The man, finally resigned to the diagnosis, thanks the vet and asks how much he owes.

The vet answers, “$650.”

“$650 to tell me my dog is dead?” exclaimed the man….

“Well,” the vet replies, “I would only have charged you $50 for my initial diagnosis. The additional $600 was for the cat scan and lab tests.”

Date: Mon, 22 Mar 1999 12:47:23 -0500

Broken Arm

Even if you aren’t a skier, you’ll be able to appreciate the humor of the slopes as written in this account by a New Orleans paper:

A friend just got back from a holiday ski trip to Utah with the kind of story that warms the cockels of anybody’s heart. Conditions were perfect, 12 below, no feeling in the toes, basic numbness all over, the “tell me when we’re having fun” kind of day.”

One of the women in the group complained to her husband that she was in dire need of a restroom. He told her not to worry, that he was sure there was relief waiting at the top of the lift in the form of a powder room for female skiiers in distress. He was wrong, of course, and the pain did not go away.

If you’ve ever had nature hit its panic button in you, then you know that a temperature of 12 below zero degrees doesn’t help matters. So, with time running out, the woman weighed her options.

Her husband, picking up on the intensity of the pain, suggested that since she was wearing an all-white ski outfit, she should go off in the woods. No one would even notice, he assured her. The white will provide more than adequate camouflage. So she headed for the tree line, began disrobing and proceeded to do her thing.

If you’ve ever parked on the side of a slope, then you know there is a right way and a wrong way to set your skies so you don’t move. Yup, you got it. She had them positioned the wrong way.

Steep slopes are not forgiving, even during embarrassing moments. Without warning, the woman found herself skiing backward, out-of-control, racing through the trees, somehow missing all of them, and into
another slope. Her derriere and the reverse side were still bare, her pants down around her knees and she was picking up speed all the while.

She continued on backwards, totally out-of-control, creating an unusual vista for the other skiiers.

The Woman skied, if you define that verb loosely, back under the lift, and finally collided violently with a pylon. The bad news was that she broke her arm and was unable to pull up her ski pants. At long last her husband arrived, put an end to her nudie show, then went to the base of the mountain and summoned ski patrol, who transported her to a hospital.

In the emergency room she was regrouping when a man with an obviously broken leg was put in the bed next to hers. “So, how’d you break your leg?” she said, making small talk.

“It was the darnest thing you ever saw,” he said. “I was riding up this ski lift, and suddenly I couldn’t believe my eyes. There was this crazy woman skiing backward out of control down the mountain with her bare bottom hanging out of her clothes and her pants down around her knees.”

“I leaned over to get a better look and I guess I didn’t realize how far I’d moved. I fell out of the lift.”

“So how’d you break your arm?”

Pumping Gas

Bill and Hillary are out driving in the country near Hillary’s hometown. They are low on fuel, so Bill pulls into a gas station for a fill-up. The attendant comes out and begins to pump gas into the first couple’s tank. As he is doing this, he looks into the passenger window.

“Hey, Hillary. We used to date in high school, do you remember me?” he asks.

They chat for a few minutes, Bill pays and the first couple leaves. As they drive Bill is feeling very proud of himself and looks over at Hillary. “You used to date that guy? Just think what it would be like if you had married him,” he says smugly.

Hillary looks at Bill and shrugs. Then she replies, “Well I guess you’d be pumping gas and he would be the President.”

Date: Mon, 22 Mar 1999 12:47:29 -0500

Clinton’s Dream

Bill Clinton has a dream in which he meets George Washington. He says, “George, what can I do to make things better for the people?”

George Washington says, “Lower the taxes.”

Clinton replies, “Oh, George, I can’t do that.”

The next night, Clinton dreams again but this time Thomas Jefferson is there. “Thomas,” Clinton says, “what can I do to make things better for the public”?

Thomas Jefferson replies, “Lower the taxes.” Clinton says, “Ugh! You too? I can’t do *that*!”

The next night, Clinton dreams yet again, and this time Abraham Lincoln is there.

“Abe Lincoln,” Clinton says, “what can I do to make things better for the people”?

Lincoln thinks for a moment and then says…

“Er…. Go to the theater.”

Date: Tue, 16 Mar 1999 13:40:17 -0500

Do The Wrong Thing

An American soldier, serving in World War II, had just returned from several weeks of intense action on the German front lines. He had finally been granted R&R and was on a train bound for London. The train was very crowded, so the soldier walked the length of the train, looking for an empty seat. The only
unoccupied seat was directly adjacent to a well dressed middle aged lady and was being used by her little dog.

The war weary soldier asked, “Please, ma’am, may I sit in that seat?”

The English woman looked down her nose at the soldier, sniffed and said, “You Americans. You are such a rude class of people. Can’t you see my Little Fifi is using that seat?”

The soldier walked away, determined to find a place to rest, but after another trip down to the end of the train, found himself again facing the woman with the dog. Again he asked, “Please, lady. May I sit there? I’m very tired.”

The English woman wrinkled her nose and snorted, “You Americans! Not only are you rude, you are also arrogant. Imagine!”

The soldier didn’t say anything else; he leaned over, picked up the little dog, tossed it out the window of the train and sat down in the empty seat. The woman shrieked and railed, and demanded that someone defend her and chastise the soldier.

An English gentleman sitting across the aisle spoke up, “You know, sir, you Americans do seem to have a penchant for doing the wrong thing. You eat holding the fork in the wrong hand. You drive your autos on the wrong side of the road. And now, sir, you’ve thrown the wrong bitch out the window.”

French Revolution

It’s the French Revolution and they’re doing the usual beheadings.

Today they’re leading a priest, a drunkard and an engineer up to the guillotine. They ask the priest if he wants to face up or down when he meets his fate. The priest says that he would like to face up so he will be looking toward heaven when he dies. They raise the blade of the guillotine, release it, it comes speeding down and suddenly stops just inches from his neck. They take this as divine intervention and release the priest.

Next the drunkard comes to the guillotine. He also decides to die face up hoping that he will be as fortunate as the priest. They raise the blade of the guillotine, release it, it comes speeding down and suddenly stops just inches from his neck. So they release the drunkard as well.

The engineer is next. He too decides to die facing up. They raise the blade of the guillotine and suddenly the engineer says “Hey, I see what your problem is.”