138 lines
4.2 KiB
Plaintext
138 lines
4.2 KiB
Plaintext
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BASTARD OPERATOR FROM HELL #10
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I get invited to a lecture as a guest speaker in "Computing Operations Fund-
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amentals", so I leave the control room in the capable hands of Sam, the
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janitor and cruise on down.
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The lecture starts and goes ok, then there's a 10 minute period where students
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get to ask a "real operator" questions that they have about operations.
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I get out my pad and pen.
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"Before we get started" I say, "could you just call out your username before
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you ask me a question, I find it easier to apply your problem to terms you
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would understand better"
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The lecturer eats all this up - the personal touch really gets to them.
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"First Question, You over there.."
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"What do you think of the privacy of individuals on a shared system?"
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"What was your username please?"
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"CMS1103"
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>Scratchy scritch<
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"Computer Privacy... Hmmm. This is a toughy really. You mean stuff like
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reading the email between you and your counsellor about you not wanting to
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come out of the closet?"
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"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGH!"
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"AH. Well, he seems to have left - must have picked a bad COMPLETELY RANDOM
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example. Next question. You, over there..."
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"CMS1136. I was.."
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"Ah yes, 1136 the only person on campus who subscribes to alt.sex.buggery.by.
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sailors.dressed.in.mums.clothing"
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"It's purely for research purposes!"
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"I'm sure it is. You do a lot of story posting for a researcher don't you?"
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"NNGggggAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHGH!"
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"Next please..."
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...
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..
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Two minutes later, the lecture theatre's empty.
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That's the problem with students today, they just don't want to learn.
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I go back to control and Sam's asleep at the console again. I think he's
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after my job. I make a mental note to tap into the salary database and
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cancel his health and accident insurance payments. You can't be too careful..
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I put the phone on the hook for the first time this afternoon and it starts
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ringing almost immediately. THAT'S IT! I redirect it to 911 catch a bit of
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shuteye. That'll teach them. OOPS! Almost forgot to turn over the excuse
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calendar. "STATIC FROM NYLON UNDERWEAR" Nope, too plausable - although in
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some cases I could do an on-site check. Nah, can't be stuffed. I'll pick
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another one. "STATIC FROM PLASTIC SLIDE RULES" Now THAT'S one with a
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challenge!
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I un-redirect the phone and drag the rubbish bin so it rests on the printer's
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stacker - another job well done. The phone rings - this could be the big one!
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"Hello?"
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"Hi, Um, how do I spell-check my file?"
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"Simple, just type `spell' and the filename"
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"Thanks"
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I'm so bloody nice this morning. Especially as I know that my version of spell
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introduces errors instead of detecting them. Things like changing friend to
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freind and vice-versa. What the hell.
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The phone rings - it's them again.
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"There's something wrong with spell"
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"What makes you think that?"
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"Because my file is all corrupt now!"
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"That doesn't sound like spell to me. Are you logged into thru PC?"
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"Yes, but I can.."
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"Please, leave the technical diagnosis to me... Now, is there a plastic ruler
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somewhere on or in the desk?"
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"Um >clunka<, yes..."
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"Right. You've got a static buildup on your hard-drive caused by the changing
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electrostatic field generated by the ruler - the same one that makes bits of
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paper stick to it when you rub it up and down your arm..."
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DUMMY MODE ON
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"Oh. What do I do?"
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"You know how you get paper off a ruler by hitting it on a table lots of times?
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Well do that with your PC. Say 20 times - lift it about a foot off the desk &
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drop it."
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"Oh. OK"
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>crash<
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>crash<
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>crash<
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"Um, the screen went dark"
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"That's ok, it's supposed to do that - keep going. And when you're finished,
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do the screen as well, that static may have gone up the wires to it."
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>crash<
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>crash<
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>crash<...
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I hang up. I get up and go out to the public area to put honey in the floppy
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drives when a guy who looked like Lee Harvey Oswald runs up to me and shoots
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me, only the sound comes from the machine room, and I can hear the ex System-
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Managers chuckle....
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Later, in the ambulance, I realise. I forgot to get the guys username...
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Then everything goes dark
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spt@waikato.ac.nz (Simon Travaglia)
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