X-NEWS: spcvxb alt.folklore.computers: 23608 Relay-Version: VMS News - V6.0-3 14/03/90 VAX/VMS V5.4; site spcvxb.spc.edu Path: spcvxb.spc.edu!rutgers!cs.utexas.edu!uunet!mcsun!Germany.EU.net!ira.uka.de!uka!iras4!hanssgen Newsgroups: alt.folklore.computers,de.talk.jokes Subject: Computer Song Collection 1.2e [part 4/7] Message-ID: From: hanssgen@ira.uka.de (Stefan Haenssgen) Date: 16 May 92 15:42:58 GMT Followup-To: alt.folklore.computers Organization: University of Karlsruhe, FRG Keywords: computer song parody NNTP-Posting-Host: iras4.ira.uka.de Lines: 1011 >>> BEGIN PART 4 <<< = "altmode"; read it as such to preserve the meter. V = command to DDT, requesting it to print out the names of all its subjobs. J = command to DDT, asking that it select the job which has requested attention so that it may be dealt with. DDT responds "jobnameJ" so that you will know which job it was. Z ("control zee") = command to ITS to stop the job which currently has the TTY, and interrupt the next higher job in the job tree. Ordinarily this has the effect of returning to DDT. 0/ ("zero slash") = command to DDT, asking it to print out the contents of location zero of the selected subjob. This operation is theoretically transparent to the subjob itself. RMS = Richard M. Stallman, who does an admirable job of keeping DDT, as well as many other programs, relatively bug-free. (C) Copyright 1973, 1974 Guy L. Steele Jr. All rights reserved. Song : The HACTRN Once before a console dreary, while I programmed, weak and weary, Over many a curious program which did TECO's buffer fill, -- While I pondered, nearly sleeping, suddenly there came a feeping, As of something gently beeping, beeping with my console's bell. "'Tis my DDT," I muttered, "feeping on my console's bell: Once it feeped, and now is still." Ah, distinctly I remember that dark night in bleak December, And each separate glowing symbol danced before me, bright and chill. Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow From my HACTRN aid for sorrow -- sorrow for the bugs which fill -- For the strange unknown and nameless bugs which ever all my programs fill -- Bugs which now I searched for still. And the coughing, whirring, gritty fan I heard inside my TTY Made me with fantastic terrors never known before to thrill; So that now, to still the beating of my heart I stood repeating, "'Tis some interrupt entreating DDT to signal me -- Some strange interrupt entreating DDT to signal me -- Its importance surely nil." Presently my soul grew stronger: hesitating then no longer I decided that I would respond to this strange program's call; TECO, which I then attended, to my soul more strength extended; With ^Z I ascended, going to my DDT -- V I typed, and answered soon my DDT -- TECO there, and that was all! Dumbly at my console peering, as I sat there, wondering, fearing, Doubting now that any interrupt was ever there to call; But the silence was unbroken, and my HACTRN gave no token, And the only sound there spoken from my TTY's whirring fan -- The low and rough and distant sound came from my TTY's whirring fan -- TECO there, and that was all. Back into my TECO going, with my pounding heart now slowing, Soon again I heard a feeping, somewhat louder than before. "Surely," said I, "surely this is some strange bug of RMS's Which an interrupt professes, though I have no other job; Let me then ask DDT if it thinks there's another job -- 'Tis a bug, and nothing more!" Again I went up to my HACTRN while cold shivers up my back ran V I typed, my jobs now once more to display. Only TECO was there listed; though my trembling heart resisted Yet I willed my hand, insisted, J to quickly type -- To answer this bold query DDT did hesitantly type A ghostly "FOOBARJ". From V protected, now, this phantom job, selected Gave no clue to why it had invoked that former beeping shrill. "Though," I said, "you're no inferior, I shall act as your superior And examine your interior, this strange matter to explore." Then I typed a 0/ this matter further to explore -- Quoth the HACTRN, ":KILL". Much I worried -- this outrageous bug might prove to be contagious, Though thus far it had not seemed to do my TECO any ill: For we cannot help concurring such a bug would cause a stirring, Feeping on a console whirring, disappearing then from sight -- An evanescent mystery subjob disappearing then from sight With no clue but ":KILL"! But my HACTRN, swapping, running, gave no further sign of cunning By this unknown phantom, which was in a thirty second sleep; None of this I comprehended; to my TECO I descended, And in terror I pretended that the bug had gone away -- I pretended that for good the mystery bug had gone away -- When my console gave a feep. Now I quickly, hoping, praying, started up a PEEK displaying All the the jobs and subjobs there which did the system fill: What I found was quite unpleasant, for there was no FOOBAR present: Only TECO was there present, underneath my DDT; I quit the PEEK, and "FOOBARJ" typed out my DDT -- Then quoth the HACTRN, ":KILL". But -- this FOOBAR now beguiling all my sad soul into smiling -- I tightly grinned, determined that this glitch should cause nobody ill; Now, into my armchair sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking why this unknown phantom job -- Why this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and unknown phantom job Feeped and did a ":KILL". This I sat engaged in guessing, but conceived no thought expressing How a phantom job could sound those strange and ghostly beeps; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining, With the symbols coldly shining at me from the CRT, With the bright, sharp symbols coldly shining on the CRT -- Which suddenly gave seven feeps! Then methought the air grew denser, filled with clouds which grew immenser, As when under darkened daylight thick and stormy weather brews; With some bit of hesitation stemming from my trepidation Again I typed that incantation finding out how much I'd lose -- V I typed again to find how much I'd lose -- TECO there, and seven FOOs! "Job!" said I, "with ghostly manner! -- subjob still, if LISP or PLANNER! Whether accident, or feeping as another hacker wills! Tell me now why I am losing, why my HACTRN you're abusing, Which no doubt is of your choosing: echo truly on my screen!" Then DDT as if in answer echoed quickly on my screen, Typing seven ":KILLs". "Job!" said I, "with ghostly manner! -- subjob still, if LISP or PLANNER! By the ITS above us which the DSKDMP doth fulfill, I shall be the system's saviour: I shall mend your crude behaviour, I shall halt your strange behaviour, and thee from the system lock!" Madly, wildly laughing I made DDT invoke a LOCK, And quickly typed thereat -- "5KILL"! "Be this now our sign of parting, phantom job!" I shrieked, upstarting, As my HACTRN now informed me ITS was going down in 5:00. "You have run your last instruction and performed your final function!" But, refuting this deduction HACTRN then my TTY grabbed -- To type out yet another message HACTRN now my TTY grabbed -- Quoth the HACTRN, "ITS REVIVED!" And the FOOBAR, never sleeping, still is beeping, still is beeping On the glaring console out from which I cannot even log! And other happenings yet stranger indicate inherent danger When bugs too easily derange or mung the programs of machines; When programs too "intelligent" start taking over the machines: Is this the end of AutoProg? -- The Great Quux (with apologies to Edgar Allan Poe) @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ Title : I Could Have Tooled All Night Original : I Could Have Danced All Night Group : from My Fair Lady Author : Guy L. Steele Jr. Intro : Song : I Could Have Tooled All Night [to be sung to the tune of I Could Have Danced All Night from My Fair Lady] Tool! Tool! I feel like such a fool! All term I goofed off; I can't catch up now! Sleep! Sleep! I've got to get some sleep! Tooling wouldn't help me anyhow! I could have tooled all night, I could have tooled all night, and still have tooled some more; I could have been absurd, Learned all my Latin verbs, It wouldn't raise my score. I can't remember all those theorems, And all those facts from my mind flee -- I only know exams, Are why one usually crams, But tooling never could help me! I could have tooled all night, I could have tooled all night, And memorized each book; I only now regret, My sections never met, And lectures I forsook. I cross my fingers now in terror, I only hope some luck's with me -- But had I tooled or not, I'd still be on the spot, My goofing off deserves the E! -- The Great Quux (with apologies to Lerner and Loewe) @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ Title : I'm Typing Backwards for Christmas Original : I'm walking Backwards for Christmas Group : Spike Milligan and another Author : Russell Street Intro : Song : I'm Typing Backwards for Christmas ---------------------------------- (Adapted from "I'm walking Backwards for Christmas", by Spike Milligan and another.) Adaption by Russell Street (russells@ccu1.aukuni.ac.nz) I'm typing backwards for Christmas, Across the TCP/IP, I'm typing backwards for Christmas, It's the only thing for me. I've tried posting sideways, And mailing to the front, But people just look at it, And say it's a publicity stunt. I'm typing backwards for Christmas, To prove that I love you. An imigrantal telnet, loved an Irish inetd From Dublin University's VAX. He longed for her XONs, But spurned his charms, And connected with a former socket. She left the telnet by himself, on his own All alone, EWOULDBLOCKing And sadly he dreamed, or at least that's the way it seemed, buddy, That an angel quieted him.... An angel quieted the same. I'm typing backwards for Christmas, Across the TCP/IP. I'm typing backwards for Christmas, It's the finest thing for me. And so I've tried posting sideways, And mailing to the front. But people just flamed, and said, "It's a publicity stunt". So I'm typing backwards for Christmas To prove that I love you. @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ Title : I Want a New Bug Original : I Want a New Drug Group : Huey Lewis and the News Author : Nelson Bishop Intro : Song : I Want a New Bug (To the tune of: I Want a New Drug, Huey Lewis and the News) I want a new bug. One I don't have to fix. One that wont make me crash my disks. Or make me use menu picks I want a new bug One I don't have to dread. One that wont turn the cursor black Or make my graph too red. Chorus: One that wont make me nervous Wonderin' what to do. One that makes me feel Like I feel when I'm all through. When I'm all done and through. I want a new bug. One that wont kill. One that wont thrash too much Or end in a Nil. I want a new bug. One that wont go away. One that wont keep me up all night. One that wont make me work all day. (Chorus) I want a new bug. One that wont show. One that wont make it run too fast. One that wont make it run too slow. I want a new bug. One with no doubt. One that wont spin the disk too much Or make me use break out. (Chorus) @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ Title : I am the very model of a Genius Computational Original : I am the very model of a modern major-general Group : Gilbert & Sullivan Author : (First seen at Cambridge, England?) Intro : Song : I am the very model of a genius computational: At writing of assembler code I really am sensational. I'm not afraid of SVC's, to macros I am much attached; Load modules I make elegant, well optimised, DEBUGged and PATCHed. I know the different languages: in Fortran and BCPL, In Algol, Snobol, PL/I, in Lisp and Cobol I excel. Numerical analysis? My algorithms make y' gape! I read my favourite novels in editions punched on paper tape. I'm very good at file control - my DCB's are always right. My use of ZED's so subtle, people stay to watch me half the night. I know what's wrong with the machine if it's not operational - And thus I am the model of a genius computational! @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ Title : Into the Tube Original : Into The Groove Group : Madonna Author : Mike Portuesi Intro : Song : Into the Tube ============= by Mike Portuesi Sung to the tune of "Into The Groove" by Madonna And you can hack, For computation. Come on, It's waiting... Chorus: Stare into the tube, Boy, you've got to prove Your subroutine. RS-232, And full duplex too, With no parity. Hacking can be such a revelation, When you can find your missing declaration. It might be running if the code is right; I hope to fix a major bug tonight. Only when I'm hacking can I feel this free. At night I buy some Coke, And hack till after three. I'm tired of all those GOTO's by themselves. Tonight, I want to write with IF-THEN-ELSE! (chorus) You've got to type NEW in a special way, Or else it won't clear Out your first array. Don't try to run it with your memory size. I've got an error on the hard disk drive. Only when I'm hacking, Can I feel this free. At night I buy some Coke, And hack till after three. I'm tired of all those GOTO's by themselves. Tonight, I want to write with IF-THEN-ELSE! (chorus) Live out your fantasy, Written in C. Just let those macros Set you free. Touch my BREAK key, In real time. Now I'm not on line. (chorus) Only when I'm hacking, Can I feel this free. At night I buy some Coke, And hack till after three. I'm tired of all those GOTO's by themselves. Tonight, I want to write with IF-THEN-ELSE! Live out your fantasy, Written in C. Just let those macros Set you free. Touch my BREAK key, In real time. Now I'm not on line, Now I'm not on line, Now I'm not on line, Now I'm not on line (nasal, like Madonna) Now I'm not on line. (repeat chorus - fade out) @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ Title : JES The mighty system Original : Puff the Magic Dragon Group : Peter, Paul and Mary / The Seekers ? Author : ? Intro : Song : JES The mighty system Ran my C-P-U It did my work with-out a quirk And never was I blue An M-V-S sub-system JES-2 could not fail It printed jobs and punched my cards And e-ven did NET-mail My users were unhappy M-V-S was hard to learn They wanted something eas-i-er A place where they could turn So when my boss assigned me To find a better way I started searching for soft-ware That might make their day I thought we would try U-NIX But that was even worse While I-B-M has P-L-S 'C' is far too terse My time was running out And I was not inspired I knew it would be two more weeks Before I would be fired JES the mighty system Ran my C-P-U It did my work without a quirk And never was I blue An M-V-S subsystem JES-2 could not fail It printed jobs and punch my cards And e-ven did NET-mail I was getting worried And so I came to SHARE I asked around and what I found Was a big teddy BEAR Software that was simple Eas-y to understand With V-M in the world today All others would be canned My users were now happy Content and worry free V-M and friendly C-M-S Sure saved the day for me The only thing I'll miss That M-V-S pro-vides Is all that great JES-2 source code That I-B-M can't hide JES the mighty system Ran my C-P-U It did my work with-out a quirk And never was I blue An M-V-S sub-system JES-2 could not fail It printed jobs and punched my cards And e-ven did NET-mail Some systems live forever But not so M-V-S 'Cause T-S-O and S-M-P Are too much of a mess V-M is like heaven It's software you can trust But as I'm sure you're all aware That source code is a must My eyes looked t'ward tomorrow As I scratched my C-D-S I'd never have to worry now Which SYS-MODS I'd regress Without a super-visor JES-2 could not be run And so that code of Houston fame Just rode into the sun Jes the mighty system Ran my C-P-U It did my work with-out a quirk And never was I blue An M-V-S sub-system JES-2 could not fail It printed jobs and punched my cards And e-ven did NET-mail @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ Title : Just remember that you're flying o'er a disk pack.... Original : Just remember that you're standing... Group : Monty Python, (Meaning of Life) Author : Tony Duell Intro : Song : Just remember that you're flying over a disk pack that's revolving and revolving at 90,000 revs an hour and seeking at 100 tracks a second so its reckoned for a system that is the source of all our power. The disk and you and me, and all the files that we can see are transfering at 180,000 bytes a sec, in an outer system rack at 25,000 blocks an hour for controller that was made by DEC The controller itself is called an RK11-C Its 10 and a half inches side to side It's made from flip-chip, that is plain to see and the data path is 16 bits wide We're 15 devices from the bus arbitor, we get served every 200 millisec, and our system is just one of hundreds and thousands on the amazing and expanding UNIBUS The UNIBUS itself keeps on transfering and transfering all of the data it can whiz. as fast as it can go, it's asynchronous you know, 3 million bytes a second and thats the fastest that there is So remember when you're waiting for the Non-processor grant, how amazingly unlikely is a crash, And pray that someone's changed the filters last week, or we will soon be ready for the trash !!!!!! @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ Title : Lambda Bound Original : Homeward Bound Group : Simon & Garfunkel Author : Guy L. Steele Jr. Intro : Song : Lambda Bound [to be sung to the tune of Homeward Bound] I'm just a little value cell, And I play my special role so well -- Hmmm -- Serving as a global switch To predicate some system glitch; But some strange value -- who knows which? -- Could cause me functions to bewitch! Lambda bound! I wish I was Lambda bound! Bound, so no SETQ's get me; Bound, so quits will reset me; Bound, where I can forget my Top-level value. It's hard to catch those system screws: 'Most any value causes me to lose -- Hmmm -- Each atom looks the same to me, Whose interned name I cannot see, And every NIL and every T Reminds me that I long to be Lambda bound! I wish I was Lambda bound! Bound, so no SETQ's get me; Bound, so quits will reset me; Bound, where I can forget my Top-level value. Next time I'll have a MAR break set And try to catch each clobber threat -- Hmmm, mmmm -- The next covert attempt to mung Will cause the MAR break to be sprung, But then the poor LISP will be hung Because I'm not as I have sung: Lambda bound! I wish I was Lambda bound! Bound, so no SETQ's get me; Bound, so quits will reset me; Bound, where I can forget my Top-level value. -- The Great Quux (with apologies to Paul Simon) @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ Title : Leavin' Fed'ral Express Original : Leavin' on a Jet Plane Group : Peter, Paul and Mary Author : Nelson Bishop Intro : Song : Leavin' Fed'ral Express (To the tune of Leavin' on a Jet Plane, Peter, Paul and Mary) All my disks are packed, no room for more, You think you'll ship me out the door, I hate to tell you I've got one more bug. But the dawn is breakin' it's early morn. The truck is waitin', he's blowin' his horn. But you've got time for just one more compile. Chorus: So link me and debug me, Try to write new code for me. You've sold me now, you've got to let me go. I'm leavin' Fed'ral Express. Don't know how you could ship this mess. Oh wait, it can't be time to go. There's so many times I've let you down. So any ancient bugs you've found. I tell you now, you ain't seen a thing. Every place I go there's bugs anew. Every one they find reflects on you. But think about the money that I'll bring. (Chorus) Now the time has come to ship me, One more time, try to link me. Then close your eyes, I'll be on my way. Dream about the days to come, When you don't rush to get things done, About the time, I wont have to say, (Chorus) @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ Title : Little PC Original : Little Deuce Coupe Group : The Beach Boys Author : Nelson Bishop Intro : There's that singing memory again. Obviously this was written fairly early in the IBM PC days when hard disks were a big deal. The network card mentioned was a pretty early offering and never worked very well. Song : Little PC (To the tune of: Little Deuce Coupe, The Beach Boys) Well I'm not braggin' boys so don't put me down. But I've got the fastest ROM boot in town. When somethin' comes up you know I don't even try. I just hit the return key an let her fly. She's my little PC, you don't know what I've got. Just a little PC with a monochrome. But we tell the other guys take your Apples home. She's got a printer port and a network board And an 8087 on the motherboard. She's my little PC, you don't know what I've got. She's got an Alpha Byte card with a 232 And her memory sings like she's cryin' the blues. And if that ain't enough to make you flip your lid, There's one more thing; I've got a hard disk daddy. When I bring her on line all I see is green, Till I turn the brightness up and clear the screen. I get bent out of shape and I start to fret, When I have to boot again 'cause there's no reset. She's my little PC, you don't know what I've got. @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ Title : Lonely Users Original : Elanor Rigby Group : The Beatles Author : ? Intro : Song : Eleanor Rigby Sits at the keyboard And waits for a line on the screen Lives in a dream Waits for a signal Finding some code That will make the machine do some more. What is it for? All the lonely users, where do they all come from? All the lonely users, why does it take so long? Guru MacKenzie Typing the lines of a program that no one will run; Isn't it fun? Look at him working, Munching some chips as he waits for the code to compile; Where is the style? All the lonely users, where do they all come from? All the lonely users, why does it take so long? Eleanor Rigby Crashes the system and loses 6 hours of work; What is it worth? Guru MacKenzie Wiping the blood off his hands as he walks from the grave; Nothing was saved. All the lonely users, where do they all come from? All the lonely users, why does it take so long? @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ Title : The Maven Original : The Raven Group : E.A. Poe Author : The Dragon Intro : Song : 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." 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! (with no apologies whatsoever to anyone) ...the Dragon @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ Title : My Favorite Hacks Original : My Favorite Things Group : Rodgers and Hammerstein (?) Author : Guy L. Steele Jr. Intro : Song : My Favorite Hacks [to be sung to the tune of My Favorite Things from The Sound of Music] Circular MAPCAR and ANDCA'd negation, Indirect JMP auto-incrementation, Tangled spaghetti embroidered in stacks: These are a few of my favorite hacks. Mismatched DEFINE-TERMIN pairs with .QUOTEing, Misbalanced brackets for macroed remoting, PDP-6's with chess tourney plaques: These are a few of my favorite hacks. LAMBDAs as GO TOs and spooling on TPLs, Flip-flops and bit drops and TRCE's in triples, Crufty heuristics that prune minimax: These are a few of my favorite hacks. When the bugs strike, When the disks crash, When I read this verse, I simply remember my favorite hacks And then I feel even worse! -- The Great Quux (with apologies to Rodgers and Hammerstein) @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ Title : Mr. Bossman Original : Mr. Sandman Group : ? Author : Nelson Bishop Intro : this was written around release 2.5 of a product. There weren't any particularly exciting enhancements, just a bunch of tweaking, snore. Any two syllable name will substitute for Bossman, as of course it did in the original (Hi Gary :-). We never did get a plum either! Song : Mr. Bossman (To the tune of: Mr. Sandman) Bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum Mr. Bossman, bring us a plum. An expert system would be lots of fun. How 'bout a new exciting project? How 'bout some brand new source and object? Mr. Bossman, how 'bout AI? We'd like to do it, we'll give it a try. Give us the word our work is no joke, Sir, And tell that the big compiles are over. Mr. Bossman, windows are nice. We'd like to do them and play with some mice. Pop-up menus would really be friendly, And local networks are just oh so trendy. Mr. Bossman (Yeees), take us off hold. This boring maintenance has gotten so old. So please bring back out happy hum. Mr. Bossman give us, please, please, please, Mr. Bossman give us a plum! Bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum! @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ Title : My Data are Over the Ocean Original : My bonnie is over the ocean Group : Traditional (?) Author : Young European Radio Astronomers Intro : Here the beginning of "My Data are Over the Ocean", created during lunch by participants of the Young European Radio Astronomers Conference in September 1989 at Kharkov, (then) USSR. This was inspired by a colleague, who couldn't read back in Europe the tape with observational data she had written at an Hawaiian observatory. The other parts of the song weren't related to computers. Song : (to the tune of "My bonnie is over the ocean") My data are over the ocean, and I cannot read them right here. My data are over the ocean, oh bring back my data to me. (Chorus) Bring back, >>> END PART 4 <<< -- ,-----,------,--,--, Stefan Haenssgen, Comp Sci, Uni Karlsruhe, Germany / / / / / Email: haenssgen@ira.uka.de or uk0w@dkauni2.bitnet / ---/-, ,-/ / / IRC: sth Phone: +49/721/593910 Fax: hoo nose / / / / / / Snail: Nuitsstr. 2c, W-7500 Karlsruhe 21, Germany /--- / / / / / / / / / / / / / "Use the SOURCE, Luke!" (Return of the RedEye Nights) '-----' '--' '--'--' "I feel a great disturbance in the SOURCE"