11601 lines
329 KiB
Plaintext
11601 lines
329 KiB
Plaintext
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It's been nearly two years since the last revision, and quite a lot of
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new songs have arrived in the meantime (manythanx to all who contributed!),
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so it's definitely time for a new edition of...
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COMPUTER SONGS AND POEMS
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=====<version 1.4>======
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------06-Aug-1994-------
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(Song and poem parodies with computer related subjects)
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collected & reformatted by Stefan Haenssgen <haenssgen@acm.org>
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The entries are formatted as follows, seperated by a line of "@"s :
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Title : The title of the parody
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Original : The title of the original
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Group : The one(s) who performed the original
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Author : Author of the parody
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Info : Additional Comments by the Author
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Song : The Parody itself
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I'd like to thank the following people for their contributions,
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suggestions and error corrections (in alphabetical order)
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Joerg Anslik <janslik@leibniz.gun.de>
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David Barr <barr@pop.psu.edu>
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Rob Beukers <rob@dutetvd.et.tudelft.nl>
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Nelson Bishop <nelson@natinst.com>
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Ulrika Bornetun <ulrika.bornetun@zh001.ubs.ubs.ch>
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Frank Borger <frank@rover.uchicago.edu>
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Richard Carlsson <m90rca@tdb.uu.se>
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Alan Cox <iiitac@pyramid.swansea.ac.uk>
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Tony Duell <ard@siva.bristol.ac.uk>
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Jonathan Dursi <dursi@clavius.stmarys.ca>
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Axel Eble <Axel.Eble@imbi.uni-freiburg.de>
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Martin Emmerich <me@grmbl.uucp>
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Uli Fraus <fraus@forwiss.uni-passau.de>
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Greg Gerke <ggerke@unocss.UUCP>
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Charlie Gibbs <Charlie_Gibbs@mindlink.bc.ca>
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Andreas Gustafsson <gson@spiderman.cs.hut.fi>
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Thorbjoern Hansen <hansen@forwiss.uni-passau.de>
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Jonathan E. Katz <jonathan@kanga.cad.ucla.edu>
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Romain Kang <romain@pyramid.com>
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Evan Kirshenbaum <evan@hplerk.hpl.hp.com>
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Thomas Koenig <ig25@rz.uni-karlsruhe.de>
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Rich Kulawiec <rsk@gynko.circ.upenn.edu>
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Greg Lehey <grog@lemis.uucp>
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Mark Lottor <mkl@nisc.sri.com>
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N. R. Norm Lunde <norm@ctr.columbia.edu>
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Scott Malcomson <Scott.Malcomson@f110.n114.z1.fidonet.org>
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Sander van Malssen <sander@kozmix.hacktic.nl>
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Adrian Mariano <adrian@u.washington.edu>
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Colin McCormack <colinm@extro.ucc.su.oz.au>
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Keith Michaels <krm@sdc.boeing.com>
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Dipesh Navsaria <navsaria@bu-pub.bu.edu>
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Ove Ruben R Olsen <Ove.R.Olsen@ubb.uib.no>
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Joel Polowin <polowin@chem.queensu.ca>
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Reinier Post <reinpost@info.win.tue.nl>
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Robert E. Seastroms <rs@ai.mit.edu>
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George Sicherman <windmill.att.com!gls>
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Boas Simon <boas@uni-paderborn.de>
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Ignatios Souvatzis <souva@aibn53.mpifr-bonn.mpg.de>
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Ellen Spertus <erspert@athena.mit.edu>
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Starship Trooper / Greywolf <greywolf@autodesk.com>
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Russell Street <russells@ccu1.aukuni.ac.nz>
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The Unknown User <unknown@ucscb.ucsc.edu>
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Greg Weiss <grweiss@phoenix.princeton.edu>
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Martin Welk <mw@pandora.ruhr.sub.org>
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Alan Winston <winston@ssrl01.slac.stanford.edu>
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<snarler%maple.decnet@pine.circa.ufl.edu>
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<dscatl!daysinns!alanf@gatech.edu>
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This collection contains the following songs:
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[changes to the previous version (1.3) are marked
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"+" for additions and
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"/" for edited songs]
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0x0d2c
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+ 16 Bits
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+ 602 is Coming to Core
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99 Buckets of Bits
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+ 99 Bugs in the Monitor Now
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A Better Model
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A Graphic Song
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A is for Apple
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Addicted To Vi
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Addicted To News
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+ A Hacker's Lot
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The Alternative Wall
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+ A More Effective Manager
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+ An IBM User
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An Irish CPU
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Another Glitch in the Call
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Another One
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+ ARPAWOCKY
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A Song of Computation
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A Time for DWIM
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Automation
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A Visit from Saint Woz
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+ Away in QMANGR
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+ bbb+b
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BBN Superlisp
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+ Beautiful Program
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+ The Bell Labs UNIX System
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+ Blow Out
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/ Berkelian Rhapsody
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Berkeley California
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Berkeley 4.3
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Boot It
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Both Ways, Now
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The Boys of HP
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The Bug Came Back
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Bye Bye, UNIX
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+ Bye, Bye, System
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CAMM (Crustified Ancient of Main Memory)
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Can't parse this
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+ C Hacker in Paradise
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+ The Chilled Water Waltz
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+ COBOL Programmer's Swing
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+ Code-a-lot
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+ Comp Sci Serenade
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+ The Computerbury Tales
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+ Computerized Girl
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+ Computer Man
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The Computer Nevermore
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+ Control-C Song
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Core dumped blues
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+ CPU Delight
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+ Crasher's Song
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CRASH! goes the System
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+ The Crash of the Ten and Eleven
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CRAY-S's coolant
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Cycles For Nothing
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+ Dasi, Dasi
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+ The Data-comm Song
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The Day Bell System Died
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+ The Day SunOS Died
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The DEC man cometh
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DECman
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+ Destruction
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+ The Devil Went Down to Crawford
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The Disks of UNIX
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Don't Call From Home
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Don't Have a Conniption
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DP Man
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Emacs Wizard
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+ Ever Onward, IBM
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Every Cycle is Sacred
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+ The Field Service Anthem
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Fifty Ways to Hose Your Code
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+ The First TOPS-10
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Fork()ing on a Sun
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FORTRAN
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+ FORTRAN Programs
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+ FORTRAN Song
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French Horn Concerto (for modem users)
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Friend of the System
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Gateway To Heaven
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Gateway To Net Ten
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Girls just wanna defun
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+ God Rest Ye CS Students
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+ God Rest Ye Merry Network Fans
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HACKADU
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The Hackers are Best
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The Hacker Song
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+ The Hacker's Battle Hymn
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The Hacker's Song
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Hacking Iron
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The HACTRN
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+ Hark! the Screaming Students Cry
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+ Has Anybody Seen My Code?
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+ Hello, my ASCII gal
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+ Hello, Solly
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I Could Have Tooled All Night
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+ I'd Like to Buy Magnetic Tape
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+ I'm a PDP-10 Wizard
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+ I'm a Programmer
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I'm Typing Backwards for Christmas
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+ In the Shade of the Old Apple Tree
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+ I/O
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+ I've Been Working on a Kernel
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I Want a New Bug
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+ I want an RT
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I am the very model of a Genius Computational
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Into the Tube
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+ Jargontalk
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JES The mighty system
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Just remember that you're flying o'er a disk pack....
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+ Kludging My Software
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Lambda Bound
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Leavin' Fed'ral Express
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+ Little Boxes
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Little PC
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+ LOGIN Song
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Lonely Users
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+ The Longest Path
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+ Losing my Connection
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+ Kitty of North Tempe
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+ Magtapes Roasting
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The Maven
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+ The Modern Software Manager
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+ Monopoly
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Mr. Bossman
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My Favorite Hacks
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My Data are Over the Ocean
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+ My Favorite Things (2)
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My Favourite Things
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+ My Program Lies in the DEC-20
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Network Pie
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Not a Boolean
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Ode to Amy (or: The Frontend Shuffle)
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+ Ode To Menu Systems
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+ Old bit stream
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+ Ole McMowle
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+ On the Net
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Our First Day on Usenet
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+ Over Hill, Over Caile
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+ PC:s are PC:s
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P-I-F-FO
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Please Release Me
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PLIate's Dream
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Poor Pure Percy P
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+ Programmer
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The Programmer's Blues
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/ The Programmer's Viewpoint
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+ Programs
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Puff the Fractal Dragon
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Rawhide
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The RSX Backup Song
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The RSX Support Song
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The RSX VMS Lovers Song
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Script for a Hacker's Tear
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+ Sentimental Berwald
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SIGHUP Blues
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+ Silicon Valley Guy
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Software for Nothing
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Socket Man
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+ Somewhere over the Network
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Song of the Certified Data Processor
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The Sound of FORTRAN
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The Sounds of Silence
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+ Stopcode Bells
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Structured Programmer's Soliloquy
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The Swapper
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System Crash
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Take me Down to the SunLab
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Tap My Wire
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+ Telnet Song
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Ten little Modulans
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That old time PDP
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+ That's Life At Case
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That was the HASP my friend
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+ Twas the Night Before Implementation
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The 12 computerised days of Xmas
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These are are a Few of Our Favorite Machines
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+ Those were the Days
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Treekiller
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+ The Twelve Days of Uptime
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The Underfull Badness Blues
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UNIBUS
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UNIX
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Unix Man
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Unix Quandry
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Unix Wizard
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VAX Raphosdy
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+ VMUNIX Blues
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Waiting for The Sun
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The Wall 2
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What is a Hacker?
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+ What Segment is This?
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+ When I'm Sixty Four
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When I was a lad
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When you try to get work from the data network
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+ White Collar Holler
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+ The Wonderful Hacker
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The Worm before Christmas
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Write in C
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Yellow Subroutine
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One final remark: I collect postcards, so if you like this file
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and think I deserve a small favour, how about sending me a nice
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postcard? 8-) I'd appreciate it very much! Really!
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My address for the next few years is:
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Stefan Haenssgen
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Nuitsstr. 2c
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D-76185 Karlsruhe
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Germany
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PS: This file (and future updates) is also available via
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anonymous FTP at ftp.ira.uka.de (129.13.10.90)
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in /pub/doc/computersongs-1.4.Z
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PPS: (So much for "One final remark" ;-) Comments, suggestions,
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further contributions and error corrections are always
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welcome!
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...and here we go:
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@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
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Title : 0x0d2c
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Original : ?
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Group : ?
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Author : Bill Mitchell <mitchell@mdd.comm.mot.com>
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Intro :
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Song :
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0x0d2c
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------
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May all your signals trap
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May your references be bounded
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All memory aligned
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Floats to ints be rounded
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Remember....
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Nonzero is TRUE
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++ adds one
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Arrays start with [0]
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NULL points to none
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For octal use zero
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0x means in hex
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use = to set
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and == for a test
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Use -> for a pointer
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a dot if it's not
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?: is confusing
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use this a lot
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a.out is your program
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there's no 'u' in foobar
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and char (*(*x())[])() is
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a function returning a pointer
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to an array of pointers
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to functions returning a char
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@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
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Title : 16 Bits
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Original : 16 Tons
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Group : ?
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Author : Tony Williams and Bill Mulert
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Intro :
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Song :
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16 Bits
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(to the tune of 16 Tons)
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by Tony Williams and Bill Mulert
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Some people say computers are made outta chips,
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Digital logic and binary bits.
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Takes a technical jerk to wanna make it run,
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So I went to computer-mart and bought myself one.
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Ya load 16 bits, and whattya get ?
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64K and a floppy diskette.
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At $1200 it's surely inane,
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You get a Biorhythym chart and a video game.
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I was born one morning in a software mine,
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I picked up my keyboard and I entered a line.
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I loaded some BASIC, I loaded FORTRAN,
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But nothing I loaded into COBOL ran.
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Chorus:
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Ya load 16 bits, and whattya get ?
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64K and a floppy diskette.
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IBM don't ya call me 'cause I gotta regroup,
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I'm stuck right now in an infinite loop.
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Well, I sat at the keyboard with the Programmer's Itch,
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But everything I entered ran into a glitch.
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I messed up ma memory, ma register gates,
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Made me wanta fold, spindle, and mutilate.
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(Chorus)
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I got a serial modem with dual disk packs,
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The house I once owned is now Radio Shack's.
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30 I/O ports to do as ya will,
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If the price don't get ya then the light bill will.
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(Chorus)
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@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
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Title : 602 is Coming to Core
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Original : Santa is Coming to Town
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Group : Traditional (?)
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Author : Albert Corda, Richard Holmes & David Kinder
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Intro :
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Song :
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602 is Coming to Core
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(to Santa is Coming to Town)
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by Albert Corda, Richard Holmes & David Kinder
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Oh, you'd better not peek.
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You'd better not spy.
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You'd better not poke.
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I'm telling you why.
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602 is comming to core!
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The devlin bombs.
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You can't do a call.
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Gettabs just
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Don't work at all.
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602 is comming to core!
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It wakes you when you're sleeping.
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It swaps you when you're small.
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It puts you into 'MQ wait',
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And you can't get out at all. So...
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You'd better not peek.
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You'd better not spy.
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You'd better not poke.
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I'm telling you why.
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602 is coming to core!
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@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
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Title : 99 Buckets of Bits
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Original : 99 Bottles of Beer
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Group : Traditional
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Author : "Jonathan E. Katz" <jonathan@kanga.cad.ucla.edu>
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Intro : (of course 90 buckets of bits then becomes 8f buckets of bits...)
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buckets can also be replaced by bytes
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Song :
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99 buckets of bits on the bus,
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99 buckets of bits.
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take one down,
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short it to ground.
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98 buckets of bits on the bus..
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@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
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Title : 99 Bugs in the Monitor Now
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Original : 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall
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Group : Traditional
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Author : Albert Corda, Richard Holmes & David Kinder
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Intro :
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Song :
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99 Bugs in the Monitor Now
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(to 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall)
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by Albert Corda, Richard Holmes & David Kinder
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99 bugs in the monitor now.
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99 bugs in the core.
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Run DDT.
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Find two or three.
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96 bugs in the monitor now.
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96 bugs in the monitor now....
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@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
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Title : A Better Model
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Original : A Modern Major-General
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Group : Gilbert and Sullivan
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Author : Steven Levine at Apollo Computer
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Intro :
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Song :
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A Better Model
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==============
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by Steven Levine at Apollo Computer
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Submitted by "Spam"
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Sung to the tune of "A Modern Major-General"
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by Gilbert and Sullivan
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I've built a better model than the one at Data General
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For data bases vegetable, animal, and mineral
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My OS handles CPUs with multiplexed duality;
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My PL/1 compiler shows impressive functionality.
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My storage system's better than magnetic core polarity,
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You never have to bother checking out a bit for parity;
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There isn't any reason to install non-static floor matting;
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My disk drive has capacity for variable formatting.
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Chorus: His disk drive has capacity for variable formatting,
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His disk drive has capacity for variable formatting,
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His disk drive has capacity for variable format-formatting.
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I feel compelled to mention what I know to be a gloating point:
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There's lots of room in memory for variables floating-point,
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Which shows for input vegetable, animal, and mineral
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I've built a better model than the one at Data General.
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Cho: Which shows for input vegetable, animal, and mineral
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He's built a better model than the one at Data General.
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The IBM new home computer's nothing more than germinal;
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At Prime they still have trouble with an interactive terminal;
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While Tandy's done a lousy job with operations Boolean,
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At Wang the byte capacity's too small to fit a coolie in.
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Intel's mid-year finances are something of the trouble sort;
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The Timex Sinclar crashes when you implement a bubble sort.
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All DEC investors soon will find they haven't spent their money well;
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And need I even mention Nixdorf, Univac, or Honeywell?
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Cho: And need he even mention Nixdorf, Univac, or Honeywell?
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And need he even mention Nixdorf, Univac, or Honeywell?
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And need he even mention Nixdorf, Univac, or Honey-Honeywell?
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By striving to eliminate all source code that's repetitive
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I've brought my benchmark standings to results that are competitive.
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In short, for input vegetable, animal, and mineral
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I've built a better model than the one at Data General.
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Cho: In short for input vegetable, animal, and mineral
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He's built a better model than the one at Data General.
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In fact when I've a floppy of a maximum diameter,
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When I can call a subroutine of infinite parameter,
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When I can point to registers and keep their current map around,
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And when I can prevent the need for mystifying wraparound,
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When I can update record blocks with minimum of suffering,
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And when I can afford to use a hundred K for buffering,
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|
When I've performed a matrix sort and tested the addition rate,
|
|
You'll marvel at the speed of my asynchronous transmission rate.
|
|
|
|
Cho: You'll marvel at the speed of his asynchronous transmission rate,
|
|
You'll marvel at the speed of his asynchronous transmission rate,
|
|
You'll marvel at the speed of his asynchronous transmission-mission rate.
|
|
|
|
Though all my better programs that self-reference recursively
|
|
Have only been obtained through expert spying, done subversively,
|
|
But still for input vegetable, animal, and mineral,
|
|
I've built a better model than the one at Data General.
|
|
|
|
Cho: But still for input vegetable, animal, and mineral,
|
|
He's built a better model than the one at Data General.
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
Title : A Graphic Song ("It's a commie plot")
|
|
Original : "Catch a Wave"
|
|
Author : ?
|
|
Info : Kindly provided in source by Jim McGlinchey - from the RSX songbook
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
Lead: Nobody wants to try the greatest hack around
|
|
Backup: Plot a wave, plot a wave
|
|
Bass: Everybody tries it once
|
|
Lead: Those who have just want to shut it down
|
|
Backup: Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow
|
|
Lead: You cut some code, then compile and link,
|
|
and then you - turn on the plotter, fill the pens with ink,
|
|
Tutti: You gotta -
|
|
Plot a wave and you're sittin' on top of the world.
|
|
|
|
Lead: Not just DECgraph, 'cause it's been plotting on so long
|
|
Backup: Plot a wave, plot a wave
|
|
Bass: It's been going now for hours
|
|
Lead: They said it wouldn't plot that long
|
|
Backup: Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow
|
|
Lead: They'll eat their words with a forkin' VAX, just watch 'em -
|
|
they rasterize in real time - it drags ass
|
|
Tutti: You gotta -
|
|
Plot a wave and you're sittin' on top of the world.
|
|
|
|
Lead: So take a lesson from a top-notch hacker boy
|
|
Backup: Plot a wave, plot a wave
|
|
Bass: Get yourself RSX
|
|
Lead: But don't you treat it like a toy
|
|
Backup: Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow
|
|
Lead: So stick your plot, go ahead and whine, look fella -
|
|
we don't plot 'round here, this is real time
|
|
Tutti: You gotta -
|
|
Plot a wave and you're sittin' on top of the world.
|
|
Plot, plot, where the sun never shines
|
|
Plot a wave and you're sittin' on top of the world.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : A is for Apple
|
|
Original : A is for Apple
|
|
Group : Traditional
|
|
Author : Douglas Spencer
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
A is for Apple
|
|
|
|
by Douglas Spencer
|
|
Computer Systems Administrator, Anderman and Co Ltd
|
|
|
|
|
|
A is for APPLE who sent us our Macs,
|
|
D is for DEC, and they sold us a Vax.
|
|
C is the language in which we write source,
|
|
and B is our sort, which is BROKEN, of course.
|
|
|
|
E is an ERROR when code is compiled,
|
|
F is a FORK for creating a child,
|
|
G is the GETTY that sits on the line,
|
|
and H is a HANGUP whic:^?{^Zo^?{bD^]NO CARRIER
|
|
|
|
I is the INTERCONNECTION of kit,
|
|
J is the JOY when the cables all fit.
|
|
K is for KERMIT, to copy a file,
|
|
and L are the LINES that we drop all the while.
|
|
|
|
M is the MODEM we use from our home,
|
|
N are the NIGHTS which we spend on the 'phone,
|
|
O is the OUTPUT we get from the host,
|
|
and P are the 'PHONE BILLS we get in the post.
|
|
|
|
Q for SIGQUIT makes our process abort,
|
|
R is the REASON sigquit should be caught.
|
|
S is the SIGNAL we catch and ignore,
|
|
and T is the TRAP which we miss, and dump core.
|
|
|
|
U is for UNIX -- I hope that is clear,
|
|
V is the VISUAL editor here.
|
|
W stands for the WINDOWS we use,
|
|
and X for the windowing system we choose.
|
|
|
|
Y is for YACC, quite a specialist tool,
|
|
Z for the snores from the programming pool.
|
|
Written while waiting while dinner was cooking
|
|
|
|
submitted by chiyo to funny@looking.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Addicted to News
|
|
Original : Addicted To Love
|
|
Group : Robert Palmer
|
|
Author : Elf Sternberg <elf@halcyon.com>
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
The lights are on-- 'cause you're at home.
|
|
Your brain's wired to your phone.
|
|
Alt.sex, and talk.bizarre,
|
|
You his 'reply,' start a flamewar!
|
|
You don't sleep, you drink Coke,
|
|
You can't stop, you might choke.
|
|
Know what, you crave the most?
|
|
Talk.religion, with unread posts!
|
|
|
|
You like to think you've figured out drieux!
|
|
Oh yeah?
|
|
A day without net access is a day with the blues,
|
|
You're gonna have to face it, you're addicted to News.
|
|
|
|
Pirate clari, you've got it all.
|
|
Local news, e'en from Nepal?
|
|
'End of newsgroups' is your key,
|
|
To join *.advocacy!
|
|
A fido gate's your latest fun,
|
|
Mailing lists, every one.
|
|
A one-track mind, you can't be pried,
|
|
From your keyboard, until you've died!
|
|
|
|
Just when you think you've figured out drieux!
|
|
Oh, yeah!
|
|
A day without net access is a day with the blues,
|
|
You're gonna have to face it, you're addicted to News.
|
|
|
|
The lights are on, 'cause your at home.
|
|
Your brain's wired to your phone.
|
|
Alt.slack, talk.pol.misc,
|
|
You've never felt a real live kiss!
|
|
|
|
Elf !!!
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Addicted To Vi
|
|
Original : Addicted To Love
|
|
Group : Robert Palmer
|
|
Author : Chuck Musciano <chuck@trantor.harris-atd.com>
|
|
Intro : After thinking about that poor wretch who has become addicted to vi,
|
|
I was inspired to compose the following ditty, sung to the tune of
|
|
"Addicted To Love" by Robert Palmer.
|
|
As you sing this, it may help the effect to imagine a dozen women,
|
|
all of whom resemble Bill Joy, dressed in black and dancing
|
|
sinuously.
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
Addicted To Vi
|
|
(with apologies to Robert Palmer)
|
|
|
|
You press the keys with no effect,
|
|
Your mode is not correct.
|
|
The screen blurs, your fingers shake;
|
|
You forgot to press escape.
|
|
Can't insert, can't delete,
|
|
Cursor keys won't repeat.
|
|
You try to quit, but can't leave,
|
|
An extra "bang" is all you need.
|
|
|
|
You think it's neat to type an "a" or an "i"--
|
|
Oh yeah?
|
|
You won't look at emacs, no you'd just rather die
|
|
You know you're gonna have to face it;
|
|
You're addicted to vi!
|
|
|
|
You edit files one at a time;
|
|
That doesn't seem too out of line?
|
|
You don't think of keys to bind--
|
|
A meta key would blow your mind.
|
|
H, J, K, L? You're not annoyed?
|
|
Expressions must be a Joy!
|
|
Just press "f", or is it "t"?
|
|
Maybe "n", or just "g"?
|
|
|
|
Oh--You think it's neat to type an "a" or an "i"--
|
|
Oh yeah?
|
|
You won't look at emacs, no you'd just rather die
|
|
You know you're gonna have to face it;
|
|
You're addicted to vi!
|
|
|
|
Might as well face it,
|
|
You're addicted to vi!
|
|
You press the keys without effect,
|
|
Your life is now a wreck.
|
|
What a waste! Such a shame!
|
|
And all you have is vi to blame.
|
|
|
|
Oh--You think it's neat to type an "a" or an "i"--
|
|
Oh yeah?
|
|
You won't look at emacs, no you'd just rather die
|
|
You know you're gonna have to face it;
|
|
You're addicted to vi!
|
|
|
|
Might as well face it,
|
|
You're addicted to vi!
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : A Hacker's Lot
|
|
Original : A Policeman's Lot
|
|
Group : Gilbert & Sullivan
|
|
Author : Brad Needham
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
A Hacker's Lot
|
|
|
|
|
|
(to the tune of A Policeman's Lot from
|
|
Gilbert & Sullivan's The Pirates of Penzance)
|
|
(italicized words are sung by the chorus)
|
|
by Brad Needham
|
|
|
|
|
|
When a hacker's not engaged in compilation compilation
|
|
or single-stepping code in adb adb
|
|
his/her concept of enlightened conversation conversation
|
|
is as far removed from coding as can be. as can be
|
|
One misnomer is as good as any other; any other
|
|
a "hacker" is the soul who makes things run. makes
|
|
things run
|
|
Ah, take one consideration with another with another
|
|
a hacker's lot is not a happy one.
|
|
Oh, a hacker is the soul who makes things run, makes
|
|
things run;
|
|
a hackers lot is not a happy one, happy one.
|
|
|
|
Though our lucid comments gush with human feeling human
|
|
feeling
|
|
and clearly document each program's works program's
|
|
works
|
|
the remote mail system shows no signs of healing signs
|
|
of healing
|
|
and nroff still contains annoying quirks. 'noyying
|
|
quirks
|
|
Our aesthetics we, with difficulty, smother 'culty
|
|
smother
|
|
when an "rm -r *" must be undone. be undone
|
|
Taking one consideration with another with another
|
|
a hacker's lot is not a happy one.
|
|
Oh, when an "rm -r *" must be undone, be undone
|
|
a hacker's lot is not a happy one, happy one.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The Alternative Wall
|
|
Original : The Wall
|
|
Group : Pink Floyd
|
|
Author : Alan Cox <iiitac@pyramid.swansea.ac.uk>, Leon Thrane,
|
|
Jim Finnis, Alec Muffet <aem@aber.ac.uk> & (?)
|
|
Intro : Here's a set of pseudosongs which is the result of several long
|
|
drunken nights talking on a bulletin board between London &
|
|
Aberystwyth (220+ miles apart)... circa 1988.
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
The Alternative Wall:-
|
|
|
|
Established by:- Anarchy, Atropos, White,
|
|
Roadrunner>>>++>>, & Giant Hogweed.
|
|
|
|
Nobody On
|
|
---------
|
|
|
|
I got keyboard corns on my fingers,
|
|
I got a Ethernet Pad for a brain,
|
|
I got a VDU to prop up my mortal remains.
|
|
|
|
My programs always fail,
|
|
I got a strong urge to MAIL
|
|
But I got no-one to MAIL to,
|
|
MAIL to,
|
|
MAIL to..
|
|
|
|
Oh, babe, when I send down the phone,
|
|
There's still nobody on...
|
|
|
|
The Alternative Wall, Part Two.
|
|
|
|
Does anybody here remember DEC?
|
|
Remember how the manual
|
|
Was useless to me
|
|
In every way.
|
|
|
|
UNIX, what has become of you?
|
|
Can any other O/S be quite as slow as you...
|
|
|
|
The Alternative Wall, Part Three.
|
|
|
|
The Trial
|
|
---------
|
|
|
|
Good Morning, ROOT, your honour,
|
|
The dump will plainly show the user who now stands before you
|
|
Was caught red-handed in the system
|
|
Crudely hacking in a truly vicious nature
|
|
This will not do!
|
|
CALL THE LOGFILE!
|
|
|
|
"I always said he'd come to no good didn't I, ROOT, your honour,
|
|
If they let me have my way I'd have him banned from the VAX!
|
|
But my hands were tied,
|
|
The bleeding hearts and artists
|
|
Not to mention the Dave Prices
|
|
Wouldn't let me throw him off!"
|
|
|
|
-- Dedicated to Atropos The Wanderer.
|
|
|
|
The Alternative Wall, Part Four.
|
|
|
|
The UNIX Login Software
|
|
-----------------------
|
|
|
|
Is there anybody out there?
|
|
|
|
(repeat ad nauseam)
|
|
|
|
The Alternative Wall, Part Five.
|
|
|
|
One of My Hacks
|
|
---------------
|
|
Log onto the system
|
|
On that lurid green screen
|
|
You'll find there's no response!
|
|
|
|
Don't look so frightened,
|
|
this is just a passing crash,
|
|
One of my bad hacks!
|
|
|
|
Would you like to watch TV,
|
|
Well, that's no use to me
|
|
I want to watch you squirm
|
|
As you try to get logged on!
|
|
|
|
Do you want to call the OPS,
|
|
Do you think it's time I stopped?
|
|
Why are you running away?
|
|
|
|
The Alternative Wall, Part Six.
|
|
|
|
Filled Up Spaces / What Shall We Do Now?
|
|
----------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
What shall we use to trash
|
|
The filled up spaces on the archive tape?
|
|
|
|
How should I hack and leave no traces,
|
|
How shall the system completely fall?
|
|
|
|
The Alternative Wall, Part Seven.
|
|
|
|
Uncomfortably Numb
|
|
------------------
|
|
Hello, is there anybody on here?
|
|
I'm here but can you see me?
|
|
Is there anyone at home?
|
|
C'mon now, I hear that MIST is down,
|
|
I can ease the pain, maybe bring it up again.
|
|
|
|
Relax, I need some information first,
|
|
Just the basic facts, have you hacked the system Snurt?
|
|
|
|
There is no shell, your call is clearing,
|
|
The distant chips smoke on the breadboard,
|
|
You are only coming through off pads,
|
|
Your fingers move but I can't see what you're typing.
|
|
|
|
When I was a child I caught a virus,
|
|
My filebase swelled just like two balloons
|
|
Now I've got that feeling once again,
|
|
I can't explai(core dumped), you would not understand,
|
|
This is not how I am.
|
|
I have become uncomfortably numb.
|
|
|
|
The Alternative Wall, Part Eight.
|
|
|
|
In a Flash
|
|
----------
|
|
So ya
|
|
Thought ya
|
|
Might like to
|
|
Go to the show
|
|
To feel the thrill of board hacking,
|
|
That luminescent glow.
|
|
|
|
I've got some bad news for you, sunshine
|
|
OPS not around, 'cos Node 5 is down,
|
|
And they sent us along, they've gone to the bar,
|
|
And we're going to find out who you guys
|
|
Really are.
|
|
|
|
Have we got any oppos on the system tonight?
|
|
Grep 'em up against the wall.
|
|
There's one on Bullet,
|
|
He don't look right to me,
|
|
Grep him up agaist the wall.
|
|
That one's called Badger,
|
|
And that one's Tyrone,
|
|
Who let all this riffraff on their own;
|
|
There's one smoking a joint and
|
|
Another with sandals?
|
|
If I had my way
|
|
I'd have all of you shot.
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : A More Effective Manager
|
|
Original : A More Humane Mikado
|
|
Group : Gilbert & Sullivan
|
|
Author :
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
A More Effective Manager
|
|
|
|
|
|
(to the tune of A More Humane Mikado
|
|
from Gilbert & Sullivan's "The Mikado".)
|
|
by Brad Needham
|
|
|
|
|
|
1
|
|
A more effective manager never did LDP produce.
|
|
For months, I've been hearing top management jeering
|
|
each schedule we introduce
|
|
for every schedule ever written has slipped to varied
|
|
extents.
|
|
This grave disaster I soon will master
|
|
by jailing incompetents.
|
|
|
|
Chorus:
|
|
Their punishment, all sublime, embodies this paradigm:
|
|
to let the schedule fit the time
|
|
the schedule fit the time
|
|
and make each estimate consequently necessitate
|
|
the thing's completion upon the date
|
|
completion upon the date.
|
|
|
|
The furniture mover erratically shuffling causing
|
|
confusion and fuss:
|
|
we'll move his apartment into a compartment
|
|
aboard an interstate bus.
|
|
|
|
Committees deliberate, morning to evening,
|
|
implementation details.
|
|
They're found in loud bunches debating their hunches
|
|
on what "loosely-coupled" entails.
|
|
|
|
The marketing zealot who preannounces each technological
|
|
leap
|
|
shall find that his peers preannounced by three years
|
|
the hotel where he's scheduled to sleep.
|
|
|
|
The assembly-line hacker whose constant rewriting
|
|
annihilates his afternoons
|
|
shall find his job usurped by a mob
|
|
of hyperactive baboons.
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
The jargon speaker is trapped by his fellows who never
|
|
use english too much.
|
|
They utter most freely pig-latin, swahili,
|
|
chinese, esperanto, and dutch.
|
|
|
|
The seeming dyslexic who disregards documents over one
|
|
page and a-half
|
|
is jailed where he grovels interpreting novels
|
|
transmitted by telegraph.
|
|
|
|
The man-month thinker who adds more bodies the later a
|
|
project becomes
|
|
to keep working faster must, each morning, master
|
|
an extra set of thumbs.
|
|
|
|
The fellow whose schedules never consider that murphy's
|
|
spirit intrudes
|
|
is placed where he begs to boil "three-minute" eggs
|
|
at very high altitudes.
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
1
|
|
Choose your favorite company
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : An IBM User
|
|
Original : ?
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Falkirk Bard
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
An IBM User
|
|
|
|
(A true story of Raw Courage & Human Endeavour)
|
|
as chronicled by the Falkirk Bard
|
|
|
|
An IBM user,
|
|
Deciding to temp fate,
|
|
Tried to use the Big Computer,
|
|
To read his wee mag tape.
|
|
|
|
He got the job assembled,
|
|
Then sent it down the line.
|
|
"I hope this thing is fast", he said,
|
|
"I want it back in time."
|
|
|
|
The IBM Computer
|
|
Said with a shout of glee,
|
|
"Ah-ha a brand new user,
|
|
What fun we'll have I see."
|
|
|
|
The 3081 returned the job,
|
|
And the story it did tell,
|
|
Was that it couldn't run the job,
|
|
'Cause of failure in J. C. L.
|
|
|
|
After many weeks of trial,
|
|
The user jumped for joy.
|
|
"It likes my J. C. L. now.
|
|
It loves me boy-oh-boy."
|
|
|
|
But IBM's are playful things
|
|
They like to have their fun,
|
|
As the user searched his output,
|
|
He saw what it had done.
|
|
|
|
Its latest bit of humour
|
|
Was plain for all to see,
|
|
It went and killed his job off,
|
|
With Abend code 413.
|
|
|
|
The user got the book down,
|
|
Turned to the proper place,
|
|
And after careful searching found
|
|
Of 413 -- no trace.
|
|
|
|
Said the user, "I am patient,
|
|
I never lose the place,
|
|
But if this doesn't work soon,
|
|
I'll kick it in the face."
|
|
|
|
He sent the job back in then,
|
|
Without another sound,
|
|
But the 3081 replied with,
|
|
"System file not found."
|
|
|
|
"What the hell does this mean?"
|
|
Asked the user with a dirty look,
|
|
"It's a standard flipping routine,
|
|
It says so in the book."
|
|
|
|
At the place of Foreign Language,
|
|
He went to ask of them,
|
|
But they replied, "We're sorry,
|
|
We don't speak IBM."
|
|
|
|
But this story has an ending,
|
|
When many months later,
|
|
The user got his tape read,
|
|
By a baby Interdata!
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : An Irish CPU
|
|
Original : An Irish Ballad
|
|
Group : Tom Lehrer
|
|
Author : Sarah Elizabeth Miller
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
AN IRISH CPU
|
|
(to An Irish Ballad by Tom Lehrer)
|
|
by Sarah Elizabeth Miller
|
|
|
|
About a CPU I sing,
|
|
Sing rickity, tickity, tin.
|
|
About a CPU I sing
|
|
Who sat around compi-a-ling
|
|
And wouldn't do another thing
|
|
For anyone else logged in, logged in,
|
|
For anyone else logged in.
|
|
|
|
Old programs it would just ignore,
|
|
Sing rickity, tickity, tin.
|
|
Old programs it would just ignore
|
|
And leave them rotting in the core,
|
|
Not caring what they all were for
|
|
Except those in "user/bin", "user/bin",
|
|
Except those in "user/bin".
|
|
|
|
This CPU was lots of fun,
|
|
Sing rickity, tickity, tin.
|
|
This CPU was lots of fun
|
|
Until one wanted programs run
|
|
And if one tried to get them done
|
|
It typed back "You're not logged in, logged in."
|
|
It typed back "You're not logged in."
|
|
|
|
Long processes it would not do,
|
|
Sing rickity, tickity, tin.
|
|
Long processes it would not do
|
|
And, rather than to run them through,
|
|
Would ask to have some Irish stew
|
|
And a couple of cases of gin, of gin,
|
|
And a couple of cases of gin.
|
|
|
|
And then it would raise hellish toasts,
|
|
Sing rickity, tickity, tin.
|
|
And then it would raise hellish toasts
|
|
And make a few obnoxious boasts,
|
|
Not only could it drink the most,
|
|
It knew many more ways to sin, to sin.
|
|
It knew many more ways to sin.
|
|
|
|
To prove its point to all the world,
|
|
Sing rickity, tickity, tin.
|
|
To prove its point to all the world
|
|
It let the magtape fall in curls
|
|
And wrap around some foxy girl
|
|
And slowly rewind her in, her in,
|
|
And slowly rewind her in.
|
|
|
|
This sordid tale I won't prolong,
|
|
Sing rickity, tickity, tin.
|
|
This sordid tale I won't prolong
|
|
And, if you do not enjoy my song,
|
|
You've got Abe to blame if it's too long.
|
|
He should never have let me begin, begin.
|
|
He should never have let me begin.
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Another Glitch in the Call
|
|
Original : Another Brick in the Wall
|
|
Group : Pink Floyd
|
|
Author : Knappy 8350428 @ UWAVM / decvax!utzoo!utcsrgv!roderick ?
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Another Glitch in the Call
|
|
==========================
|
|
(Sung to the tune of a similar Pink Floyd song.)
|
|
(Contributed By Knappy 8350428 @ UWAVM)
|
|
|
|
We don't need no indirection
|
|
We don't need no flow control
|
|
No data typing or declarations
|
|
Hey! You! Leave those lists alone!
|
|
Chorus:
|
|
All in all, it's just a pure-LISP function call.
|
|
We don't need no side effect-ing
|
|
We don't need no scope control
|
|
No global variables for execution
|
|
Hey! You! Leave those args alone!
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
We don't need no allocation
|
|
We don't need no special nodes
|
|
No dark bit-flipping in the functions
|
|
Hey! You! Leave those bits alone!
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
We don't need no compilation
|
|
We don't need no load control
|
|
No link edit for external bindings
|
|
Hey! You! Leave that source alone!
|
|
(Chorus, and repeat)
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Another One
|
|
Original : Santa Claus Is Coming to Town
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : ?
|
|
Intro : Not quite the usual parody, but nice for all UNIX fans among us :-)
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
better !pout !cry
|
|
better watchout
|
|
lpr why
|
|
santa claus <north pole >town
|
|
|
|
cat /etc/passwd >list
|
|
ncheck list
|
|
ncheck list
|
|
cat list | grep naughty >nogiftlist
|
|
cat list | grep nice >giftlist
|
|
santa claus <north pole > town
|
|
|
|
who | grep sleeping
|
|
who | grep awake
|
|
who | egrep 'bad|good'
|
|
for (goodness sake) {
|
|
be good
|
|
}
|
|
|
|
better !pout !cry
|
|
better watchout
|
|
lpr why
|
|
santa claus <north pole >town
|
|
|
|
cat /etc/passwd >list
|
|
ncheck list
|
|
ncheck list
|
|
cat list | grep naughty >nogiftlist
|
|
cat list | grep nice >giftlist
|
|
santa claus <north pole > town
|
|
|
|
who | grep sleeping
|
|
who | grep awake
|
|
who | grep bad || good
|
|
for (goodness sake) { be good; }
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : ARPAWOCKY
|
|
Original : Jabberwocky
|
|
Group : Lewis Carrol
|
|
Author : R. Merryman
|
|
Intro : I'd like to nominate RFC 527: ARPAWOCKY by R. Merryman
|
|
(or D.L. Covill or whoever) for inclusion in your collection
|
|
of Computer Songs and Poems. Here it is:
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Network Working Group R. Merryman (UCSD-CC)
|
|
Request for Comments: 527 6/22/73
|
|
|
|
|
|
ARPAWOCKY
|
|
|
|
|
|
Twas brillig, and the Protocols
|
|
Did USER-SERVER in the wabe.
|
|
All mimsey was the FTP,
|
|
And the RJE outgrabe,
|
|
|
|
Beware the ARPANET, my son;
|
|
The bits that byte, the heads that scratch;
|
|
Beware the NCP, and shun
|
|
the frumious system patch,
|
|
|
|
He took his coding pad in hand;
|
|
Long time the Echo-plex he sought.
|
|
When his HOST-to-IMP began to limp
|
|
he stood a while in thought,
|
|
|
|
And while he stood, in uffish thought,
|
|
The ARPANET, with IMPish bent,
|
|
Sent packets through conditioned lines,
|
|
And checked them as they went,
|
|
|
|
One-two, one-two, and through and through
|
|
The IMP-to-IMP went ACK and NACK,
|
|
When the RFNM came, he said "I'm game",
|
|
And sent the answer back,
|
|
|
|
Then hast thou joined the ARPANET?
|
|
Oh come to me, my bankrupt boy!
|
|
Quick, call the NIC! Send RFCs!
|
|
He chortled in his joy.
|
|
|
|
Twas brillig, and the Protocols
|
|
Did USER-SERVER in the wabe.
|
|
All mimsey was the FTP,
|
|
And the RJE outgrabe.
|
|
|
|
D.L. COVILL
|
|
May 1973
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : A Song of Computation
|
|
Author : Tony Duell
|
|
Original : A Song of Reproduction
|
|
Group : Flanders and Swann
|
|
Intro : The processor 'of storage 4 k byte' is (of course) a Philips P850,
|
|
a minicomputer noted for its limited memory (4 k bytes was the
|
|
maximum), RISC-like instruction set, and total lack of speed.
|
|
After that, the PDP11/45 was a great improvement
|
|
EI set = Extended Instruction Set, i.e. the XOR, Multiply and
|
|
Divide instructions etc
|
|
DW11-B was a DEC option to use Q-Bus cards on a UNIBUS PDP11. They
|
|
are much desired by PDP11 enthusiasts, although they can cause
|
|
problems
|
|
NXM error = Non eXistant Memory error - what happens if there is a
|
|
bus time-out during a DMA transfer
|
|
Don't try to make too much sense of the spoken part in the middle
|
|
It makes more sense than the original, anyway
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
I had a little processor
|
|
With storage 4 K byte
|
|
And with an octal program
|
|
It ran throughout the night
|
|
And then they optimised it
|
|
It was much faster then
|
|
And we loaded Fortran Programs
|
|
To make it slow again
|
|
|
|
Today for computation
|
|
I'm as eager as can be
|
|
Count me among the faithful fans
|
|
of high end P - D - P
|
|
|
|
High end PDP
|
|
45's the one for me
|
|
With cartridge disk and EI set
|
|
and 6 foot rack mount cabinet
|
|
floating point boards too
|
|
complete with M M U
|
|
All the lowest bits either clear or set
|
|
What they mean now I quite forget
|
|
Still there's enough range there for national debt
|
|
With my high end PDP
|
|
|
|
(spoken)
|
|
Who configured this for you anyway?
|
|
DEC field service ?!?!?
|
|
Ooooh what a shoddy job they made of it!
|
|
Suprised they let you run that configuration on this processor, the priorities
|
|
are all wrong. If you move the tape drive down the bus after the console port,
|
|
and then re-assign the address of the system disk, then you'll still only get
|
|
adequate performance if you run modified software
|
|
I see you've got your system disk on the Q-Bus! Take that though a DW11-B bus
|
|
convertor, and via your A-leg Mux into the ALU, If you're running multi-user,
|
|
you're going to loose grants. Try to load the OS that way and what'll you get
|
|
A NXM error!
|
|
|
|
High end PDP
|
|
RSX version 3
|
|
I've a shell right here that you won't escape
|
|
On miles of 9-track recording tape
|
|
18 bit address
|
|
Will prove a great success
|
|
With the console switch, at a single touch
|
|
The lisiting comes in double dutch
|
|
But I never did care for data much
|
|
With my high end PDP
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : A Time for DWIM
|
|
Original : A Time for Us
|
|
Group : theme song from Romeo and Juliet
|
|
Author : Guy L. Steele Jr.
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
A Time for DWIM
|
|
|
|
[to be sung to the tune of
|
|
A Time for Us
|
|
(theme song from Romeo and Juliet)]
|
|
|
|
|
|
A time for DWIM
|
|
There'll never be;
|
|
No clever code
|
|
This losing mode
|
|
Can UNDO for me.
|
|
|
|
This "golden hope"
|
|
(To be denied)
|
|
Could never
|
|
Correctly fix the bugs my programs hide.
|
|
|
|
A way for bugs
|
|
There'll never be
|
|
To fix with generality.
|
|
|
|
So to this DWIM
|
|
Let's say farewell;
|
|
The crocks therein
|
|
Prove it can't win
|
|
And ring its knell:
|
|
|
|
Do What I Mean
|
|
Is just a ruse --
|
|
It really
|
|
Means only: Fix How Teitelman doth Lose!
|
|
|
|
|
|
-- The Great Quux
|
|
(with apologies to
|
|
Rota, Kusik, and Snyder)
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Automation
|
|
Original : Fascination
|
|
Group : Jane Morgan (???)
|
|
Author : Alan Sherman (singer), transcribed by Russell Street
|
|
(russells@ccu1.aukuni.ac.nz)
|
|
Info : The music Sherman used had be re-arranged from the
|
|
"original" of the song I have.
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
It was automation, I know,
|
|
That was what was making the factory go.
|
|
It was IBM, it was UNIVAC,
|
|
It was all those gears going clickerty-clack, dear
|
|
|
|
I thought automation was keen,
|
|
'Till you were replaced by a ten tonne machine.
|
|
It was that computer that tore us apart, dear
|
|
Automation broke my heart.
|
|
|
|
There's an RCA 503
|
|
Standing next to me, dear, where you used to be.
|
|
Doesn't have your smile, doesn't have your shape.
|
|
Just a lot a bunch of punch cards and light bulbs and tape, dear.
|
|
|
|
Your a girl whose soft, warm and sweet.
|
|
But your only human and that's obselete.
|
|
Though I'm very fond of that new 503, dear.
|
|
Automation's not for me.
|
|
|
|
"It was automation", I'm told
|
|
That's why I got fired and I'm out in the cold
|
|
How could I have known, when the 503,
|
|
Started into blink, it was winking at me, dear.
|
|
|
|
I thought it was just some mishap.
|
|
When it sidled over and sat on my lap
|
|
But when it said "I love you" and gave me a hug, dear
|
|
That's when I pulled out it's plug
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : A Visit from Saint Woz
|
|
Original : The Night Before Christmas (A Visit from St. Nick?)
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Marty Knight
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
A VISIT FROM SAINT WOZ
|
|
by Marty Knight
|
|
|
|
'Twas the night before Christmas, no sound in the house.
|
|
My GS is dusty and so is my mouse.
|
|
My dealer's gone Mac; he's too brainwashed to care.
|
|
Apple marketing smells like that old dairy-air.
|
|
|
|
My children are nestled, all snug in their beds,
|
|
while visions of Mac LCs (ugh) dance in their heads.
|
|
The GS is dead, I've heard them all say.
|
|
They might just be right; things look pretty gray.
|
|
|
|
When all of a sudden a great noise I did hear.
|
|
I woke with a start and fell flat on my rear.
|
|
Awakened from slumber I jumped up to see
|
|
tripped over the cat and twisted my knee.
|
|
|
|
The moon brightly shone on the new fallen snow.
|
|
I looked but saw nothing, then turning to go,
|
|
stopped short... What's that?... Is that synthLAB I hear?
|
|
Why yes! Yes it is! That's good reason to cheer!
|
|
|
|
I jumped and I shouted and I danced then because
|
|
I knew right away that it must be Saint Woz.
|
|
More rapid than Zip Chip, old Wozniak came.
|
|
He whistled and shouted and called out by name:
|
|
|
|
"Now Quickie! Now Allison! Now AppleWorks GS!
|
|
Go Claris! On SuperConvert! I love you Vitesse!
|
|
Platinum Paint is so cool! Twilight Screen Blanker rules!
|
|
Who needs those old Macs when you've got Apple IIs?
|
|
|
|
"If you have been true I've got presents to dole,
|
|
but if you're like inCider you'll get lumps of coal."
|
|
So up to the housetop with the Green Team he flew;
|
|
Jim Merritt, Andy Nicholas, and Saint Wozniak, too.
|
|
|
|
I kept very quiet so that I might hear
|
|
SoundSmith tunes softly playing, spreading Apple II cheer.
|
|
Then I heard a slight scrape and as I turned 'round
|
|
down the chimney Saint Wozniak came with a bound.
|
|
|
|
He wore blue jeans and sneakers and a T-shirt that said
|
|
II-Infinitum ... II-Forever... I had nothing to dread!
|
|
A sack of great software he had slung on his back
|
|
and he looked like a hacker there searching his pack.
|
|
|
|
His eyes twinkled brightly, his dimples so merry,
|
|
his cheeks red as apples, his nose like a cherry.
|
|
His droll little mouth smiled a smile oh so grand.
|
|
And a full bearded chin, GDL labels in hand.
|
|
|
|
A thick slice of pizza he held tight in his teeth
|
|
and the steam from it circled his head like a wreath.
|
|
A plump little face and a round little belly.
|
|
He laughed and it shook like a bowl of grape jelly.
|
|
|
|
He was chubby and plump; a right jolly old elf.
|
|
I laughed when I saw him, for he looked like myself.
|
|
He winked right at me then he twisted his head,
|
|
so I knew deep inside I had nothing to dread.
|
|
|
|
He said not a word. He went straight to work
|
|
programming in ORCA, then he turned with a jerk.
|
|
Then placing his finger on top of that mess,
|
|
and giving a nod... GAMES for the GS!
|
|
|
|
He jumped to his sleigh and it rose from the ground.
|
|
But before it took off I saw him turn 'round
|
|
and I heard him exclaim, 'ere he flew out of sight,
|
|
"Apple II Forever, and to all a good night!"
|
|
|
|
|
|
Copyright 1990 by Marty Knight
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Away in QMANGR
|
|
Original : Away in a Mange
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Albert Corda, Richard Holmes & David Kinder
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
Away in QMANGR
|
|
|
|
(to Away in a Manger)
|
|
by Albert Corda, Richard Holmes & David Kinder
|
|
|
|
Away in QMANGR,
|
|
No room for a file,
|
|
My program and output
|
|
Are stuck for a while.
|
|
The stop button's down
|
|
And the opr's away.
|
|
The little line printer's
|
|
Asleep for the day.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : bbb+b
|
|
Original : 100 Bottles of Beer
|
|
Group : Traditional
|
|
Author : ?
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
bbb+b
|
|
|
|
|
|
(to the tune of 100 Bottles of Beer)
|
|
|
|
|
|
100 buckets of bits on the bus
|
|
100 buckets of bits
|
|
take one down (short it to ground)
|
|
FF buckets of bits on the bus
|
|
|
|
FF buckets of bits on the bus
|
|
FF buckets of bits
|
|
take one down (short it to ground)
|
|
FE buckets of bits on the bus
|
|
|
|
etc.
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : BBN Superlisp
|
|
Original : Jesus Christ Superstar
|
|
Group : from Jesus Christ Superstar
|
|
Author : Guy L. Steele Jr.
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
BBN Superlisp
|
|
|
|
[to be sung to the tune of
|
|
Jesus Christ Superstar]
|
|
|
|
|
|
Every time I look at you I don't understand
|
|
Why you think "Do What I Mean" is so cool and grand;
|
|
You'd have managed better if you'd thought it through,
|
|
Why'd you pick such an awkward way your bugs to undo?
|
|
Your hairy feature will not be the last revolution,
|
|
It's clear "Mean What I Do" is the ultimate solution!
|
|
|
|
Don't you get me wrong,
|
|
Don't you get me wrong,
|
|
Don't you get me wrong, now,
|
|
Don't you get me wrong,
|
|
I only want to hack,
|
|
I only want to hack,
|
|
I only want to hack,
|
|
I only want to hack.
|
|
|
|
BBN! BBN! Some people think you're the living end!
|
|
BBN! BBN! Some people think you're the living end!
|
|
BBN! SuperLISP! Can "Do What I Mean" measure up to this?
|
|
BBN! SuperLISP! Can "Do What I Mean" measure up to this?
|
|
|
|
Tell us what you think about your friends at the top,
|
|
Who d'you think besides yourself's the pick of the crop?
|
|
Is LISP 1.5 where it's at? Is it where you are?
|
|
Does Stanford's LISP have features too or is that just PR?
|
|
Do you have the breakpoint scheme that MACLISP is known for,
|
|
Or is that just the kind of kludge the user's on his own for?
|
|
|
|
Don't you get me wrong,
|
|
Don't you get me wrong,
|
|
Don't you get me wrong, now,
|
|
Don't you get me wrong,
|
|
I only want to hack,
|
|
I only want to hack,
|
|
I only want to hack,
|
|
I only want to hack.
|
|
|
|
BBN! BBN! Some people think you're the living end!
|
|
BBN! BBN! Some people think you're the living end!
|
|
BBN! SuperLISP! Can "Do What I Mean" measure up to this?
|
|
BBN! SuperLISP! Can "Do What I Mean" measure up to this?
|
|
|
|
|
|
-- The Great Quux
|
|
(with apologies to
|
|
Rice and Webber)
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Beautiful Program
|
|
Original : Beautiful Dreamer
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Sarah Elizabeth Miller & Abe Friedman
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
Beautiful Program
|
|
|
|
(to Beautiful Dreamer)
|
|
by Sarah Elizabeth Miller & Abe Friedman
|
|
|
|
|
|
Beautiful program
|
|
Please run for me.
|
|
I've tried you in BASIC,
|
|
FORTRAN and C.
|
|
Beautiful program,
|
|
You've errors galore.
|
|
And each time I run you,
|
|
You're swapped out of core.
|
|
[Alternate: There's thirty-five more]
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The Bell Labs UNIX System
|
|
Original : The Girl from Ipanema
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Brad Needham
|
|
Intro : (inspired by an attempt to write a UNIX-like OS in Pascal)
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Bell Labs UNIX System
|
|
|
|
(to the tune of The Girl from Ipanema)
|
|
by Brad Needham
|
|
|
|
|
|
Clean and swift and small and simple
|
|
The Bell Lab's UNIX system is published
|
|
And when they read it
|
|
Each one who reads it goes "aah".
|
|
|
|
Files it has -- so elementary
|
|
File names too, that move so gently
|
|
That when they read it
|
|
Each one who reads it goes "aah".
|
|
|
|
Oh, but I read it so sadly!
|
|
So much is lost in translation.
|
|
How could I code it so badly?
|
|
And how could they blame it on me?
|
|
I write in Pascal, not in C.
|
|
|
|
Clean and swift and small and simple
|
|
The Bell Labs UNIX system is published
|
|
And when I read mine, I cry
|
|
Cause it's not in C.
|
|
it's just not in C.
|
|
no it's just not in C.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Blow Out
|
|
Original : ?
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Bill Laubenheimer
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Like to tell you the story today about my cpu,
|
|
It does alot of different things that no one else can
|
|
do,
|
|
Assembin' compilin' and all sorts of filin',
|
|
(But the) one main thing that results is a blow out
|
|
every time,
|
|
|
|
Chorus:
|
|
|
|
Blow out, a blow out, the Vax had another blow out
|
|
Blow out, a blow out, doin' a change mode.
|
|
Blow out, a blow out, the Vax had another blow out
|
|
Blow out, a blow out, was it due to the heavy load.
|
|
|
|
4
|
|
Late one night in the middle of the term while George
|
|
soundly slept.
|
|
A cpu dropped a bit and promptly crashed the net.
|
|
A-machine wheezed,b belched, and fu's let out a shout,
|
|
And just as you would expect, the Vax had another blow
|
|
out!
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
The freshman panicked, the sophomores screemed, the
|
|
juniors quietly wept.
|
|
"What are we to do after the super users have left?"
|
|
The seniors said "Have no fear and get the phone book
|
|
out,
|
|
We'll call George because, the Vax had another blow
|
|
out."
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
They called George and woke him up and got him out of
|
|
bed.
|
|
And when he heard their voices, he knew the Vax was
|
|
dead.
|
|
"What is running that made the Vax bomb?
|
|
Did those stupid users finally run out of ROM?"
|
|
(They said) "The line has formed down the hall cause
|
|
many programs are due
|
|
There is 263, 362, 363, 466, 467, 468, 695b, just to
|
|
name a few.
|
|
We tried to fix it on our own, so we got the intructions
|
|
out.
|
|
And heres what it says to do when the Vax has had a blow
|
|
out."
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
The manual from DEC was to the point and very clear,
|
|
(it said) "No winding no batterys just kick it right
|
|
here".
|
|
Well George, we tried it but it still refuses to run,
|
|
What are we supposed to do to get our assignments done?
|
|
(He said), "Dump the core and boot it once more, and
|
|
tell the users not to pout
|
|
The only thing that happened is, the Vax had another
|
|
blow out"
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
(So they) dumped the core and booted it once more and
|
|
the disks began to spin,
|
|
Everyone was cheering because they knew it'd run again.
|
|
They thanked George politely because they had no doubts,
|
|
The Vax had just recovered from one of many blow outs.
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
Now you've heard the story today about our cpu,
|
|
It did alot of different things that no one else could
|
|
do.
|
|
We're really gonna miss it when the when the memory
|
|
finally dies,
|
|
but we'll know it'll have a grand blow out in the sky.
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
|
|
4
|
|
guy that ran the computer at pur-ee.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Berkelian Rhapsody
|
|
Original : Bohemian Rhapsody
|
|
Group : Queen
|
|
Author : Greywolf <greywolf@autodesk.com>
|
|
Intro : I have a real gem for you, if you're familiar at all with Queen's
|
|
"Bohemian Rhapsody", recently re-popularized over here in the
|
|
states by the movie "Wayne's World", a cinematic production with
|
|
which most Europeans will not identify, being culturally different
|
|
than we are (and, I might add, more advanced in their cultures).
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
BERKELIAN RHAPSODY
|
|
(to the tune of "Bohemian Rhapsody")
|
|
|
|
Is this in real time? Is this in memory?
|
|
Caught in a for(;;) loop, no escape from this subroutine...
|
|
open() your files, branch through the do{}while()s and see
|
|
I'm just the kernel, I need no libraries
|
|
Because you boot me up, load and go
|
|
Branch from high, store to low
|
|
Any way the thread flows
|
|
Doesn't really matter to me
|
|
To me.
|
|
|
|
unlink() just killed a file
|
|
Filled it's data up with NULLs, cleared the inode, closed the holes
|
|
vfork(), life had just begun
|
|
Then kill(0, SIGKILL) blew it all away
|
|
mmap(), ooooooh, didn't mean to make it die
|
|
if (the parent process doesn't fork again) {
|
|
carry on, carry on, as if nothing really matters;
|
|
}
|
|
|
|
Too late, init has died
|
|
Flush my buffers out from core, then reboot() and try once more
|
|
panic ("freeing free block"); I've got to crash
|
|
Got to enter kdb and see the truth
|
|
Init, ooooooooh (Any way the thread flows)
|
|
I've lost my tty
|
|
I wish my page hadn't been swapped out at all...
|
|
|
|
I see the signal trap vectors into core
|
|
Interrupt! Overrun! It will do a fandango
|
|
Data's skrogged like lightning, very very frightening me
|
|
Dennis Ritchie? Kenneth Thompson? Kirk McKusick? Eric Allman
|
|
Someone help me! Robert Pike?
|
|
Oh, Kernighan (-an -an -an -an -an)
|
|
|
|
I'm just a quick hack, nobody uses me
|
|
He just makes sockets in his address family
|
|
Spare him a buffer in high memory
|
|
bind(); accept(); msg_send(); will it let me go?
|
|
munmap(); NO! It will not let you go (LET IT GO!)
|
|
munmap() just will not let you go (LET IT GO!)
|
|
munmap() just will not let you go (LET IT GO!)
|
|
Will not let you go (LET IT GO!)
|
|
Will not let you go
|
|
Will not let you go oh, oh, oh, oh
|
|
No, no, no, no, no, no, no!
|
|
kill(0, SIGKILL), exit(0); exit(0); let me go!
|
|
BSDi has a daemon set aside for me, for me, for meeeeeeeeeeeeee
|
|
|
|
So you think you can stomp on my stack space and text?
|
|
.. Skrog my image and data by calling exec()?
|
|
Ohh, page-d, can't do this to me page-d
|
|
Just gotta switch out, just context switch right out of here
|
|
|
|
Nothing really hashes, anyone can see
|
|
Every process thrashes, every disk drive crashes
|
|
On me
|
|
|
|
Any way the thread flows...
|
|
|
|
- Music by Queen
|
|
Lyrics by R. Anderson
|
|
with posthumous apologies
|
|
to Freddie Mercury
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Berkeley California
|
|
Original : Hotel California
|
|
Group : The Eagles
|
|
Author : David Barr <barr@pop.psu.edu>
|
|
Intro : I remember getting a collection of computer songs of yours
|
|
a while ago. Here's a song 3 of us made up recently in light of the
|
|
recent lawsuit between AT&T and BSDI, as well as the shift by Sun
|
|
(and others) away from Good Ol' BSD towards System V.
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
"Berkeley California"
|
|
|
|
(Sung to the tune "Hotel California" by the Eagles)
|
|
|
|
In a dark dim machine room
|
|
Cool A/C in my hair
|
|
Warm smell of silicon
|
|
Rising up through the air
|
|
Up ahead in the distance
|
|
I saw a Solarian(tm) light
|
|
My kernel grew heavy, and my disk grew slim
|
|
I had to halt(8) for the night
|
|
The backup spun in the tape drive
|
|
I heard a terminal bell
|
|
And I was thinking to myself
|
|
This could be BSD or USL
|
|
Then they started a lawsuit
|
|
And they showed me the way
|
|
There were salesmen down the corridor
|
|
I thought I heard them say
|
|
|
|
Welcome to Berkeley California
|
|
Such a lovely place
|
|
Such a lovely place (backgrounded)
|
|
Such a lovely trace(1)
|
|
Plenty of jobs at Berkeley California
|
|
Any time of year
|
|
Any time of year (backgrounded)
|
|
You can find one here
|
|
You can find one here
|
|
|
|
Their code was definately twisted
|
|
But they've got the stock market trends
|
|
They've got a lot of pretty, pretty lawyers
|
|
That they call friends
|
|
How they dance in the courtroom
|
|
See BSDI sweat
|
|
Some sue to remember
|
|
Some sue to forget
|
|
So I called up Kernighan
|
|
Please bring me ctime(3)
|
|
He said
|
|
We haven't had that tm_year since 1969
|
|
And still those functions are calling from far away
|
|
Wake up Jobs in the middle of the night
|
|
Just to hear them say
|
|
|
|
Welcome to Berkeley California
|
|
Such a lovely Place
|
|
Such a lovely Place (backgrounded)
|
|
Such a lovely trace(1)
|
|
They're livin' it up suing Berkeley California
|
|
What a nice surprise
|
|
What a nice surprise (backgrounded)
|
|
Bring your alibies
|
|
|
|
Windows NT a dreaming
|
|
Pink OS on ice
|
|
And they said
|
|
We are all just prisoners here
|
|
Of a marketing device
|
|
And in the judges's chambers
|
|
They gathered for the feast
|
|
They diff(1)'d the source code listings
|
|
But they can't kill -9 the beast
|
|
Last thing I remember
|
|
I was restore(8)'ing | more(1)
|
|
I had to find the soft link back to the path I was before
|
|
sleep(3) said the pagedaemon
|
|
We are programmed to recv(2)
|
|
You can swap out any time you like
|
|
But you can never leave(1)
|
|
|
|
[ substitute whirring of disk and tape drives for guitar solo ]
|
|
|
|
Written by David Barr <barr@pop.psu.edu>
|
|
and Ken Hornstein <kenh@physci.psu.edu>
|
|
and a little help from Greg Nagy <nagy@cs.psu.edu>
|
|
|
|
and thanks to the lyrics archive at cs.uwp.edu
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Berkeley 4.3
|
|
Original : Yellow Submarine
|
|
Group : Beatles
|
|
Author : Jim Finnis
|
|
Intro : [fragment]
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
In the RAM
|
|
where I was forked,
|
|
lived a ROM,
|
|
who sailed the C...
|
|
|
|
And he told,
|
|
me of his life,
|
|
in the Berkeley,
|
|
4.3...
|
|
|
|
We all live in the Berkeley 4.3,
|
|
Berkeley 4.3, Berkeley 4.3.
|
|
We all live in the Berkeley 4.3,
|
|
Berkeley 4.3, Berkeley 4.3.
|
|
|
|
((c) White the Wizard productions Ltd, 1987)
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Boot It
|
|
Original : Beat it
|
|
Group : Michael Jackson
|
|
Author : ?
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
Boot It
|
|
|
|
|
|
You're processing some words when your keyboard goes dead,
|
|
Ten pages in the buffer, should have gone to bed,
|
|
The system just crashed, but don't lose your head,
|
|
Just BOOT IT, just BOOT IT.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Better think fast, better do what you can,
|
|
Read the manual or call your system man,
|
|
Don't want to fall behind in the race with Japan,
|
|
|
|
So BOOT IT,
|
|
|
|
Get the system manager to BOOT IT, BOOT IT,
|
|
Even though you'd rather shoot it.
|
|
Don't be upset, it's only some glitch.
|
|
All that you do is flip a little switch.
|
|
|
|
BOOT IT, BOOT IT,
|
|
|
|
Get right down and restitute it.
|
|
Don't get excited, all is not lost.
|
|
CP/M, UNIX or MS/DOS Just BOOT IT, boot it, boot it, boot it...
|
|
|
|
You gotta have your printout for the meeting at two,
|
|
The system says your jobs at the head of the queue,
|
|
Right then the thing dies but you know what to do, BOOT IT.
|
|
|
|
You always get so worried when the system runs slow,
|
|
And when it finally crashes,
|
|
man you feel so low,
|
|
But computers make mistakes (they're only human you know)
|
|
So BOOT IT, Call the local guru to BOOT IT, BOOT IT,
|
|
Go ahead re-institute it.
|
|
If you're not lucky,
|
|
get the book off the shelf,
|
|
But if you are, it'll do itself.
|
|
BOOT IT, BOOT IT,
|
|
Then go find the guy who screwed it!
|
|
Operating systems are built to bounce back,
|
|
Whether it's a Cray or a Radio Shack.
|
|
|
|
BOOT IT, BOOT IT
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Both Ways, Now
|
|
Original : Both Sides, Now
|
|
Group : Joni Mitchell
|
|
Author : Guy L. Steele Jr.
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Both Ways, Now
|
|
|
|
[to be sung to the tune of
|
|
Both Sides, Now]
|
|
|
|
|
|
Decimal digits in a row,
|
|
Just set the dials and let 'er go.
|
|
The ENIAC was grossly slow --
|
|
I used to code that way,
|
|
But then this Fortran came along;
|
|
I danced and sang a happy song:
|
|
So natural -- what could go wrong?
|
|
I little knew, that day!
|
|
I've looked at Fortran both ways, now,
|
|
At II and IV, and still somehow,
|
|
It's rows of numbers I recall;
|
|
I really don't know Fortran at all.
|
|
|
|
Fortran IV is real good stuff,
|
|
But business hackers have it tough;
|
|
For them this Fortran's not enough --
|
|
Then Cobol saved the day!
|
|
But now I sing a sad refrain;
|
|
This Cobol loss is no one's gain,
|
|
And writing programs is a pain
|
|
(I get writer's cramp that way!)
|
|
I've looked at Cobol both ways, now,
|
|
I code in it, and still somehow,
|
|
It's FORMAT statements I recall;
|
|
I really don't know Cobol at all.
|
|
|
|
Cobol will for business do;
|
|
Accounts and payroll make it through
|
|
(And bills for zero dollars too --
|
|
I get them every day!)
|
|
But those who hack symbolic frobs
|
|
Cannot make do with Cobol jobs,
|
|
And now I sing through anguished sobs,
|
|
But Lisp is here to stay.
|
|
I've looked at Lisp code both ways, now,
|
|
At lambda forms, and still somehow,
|
|
It's Cobol statements I recall;
|
|
I really don't know Lisp at all.
|
|
|
|
|
|
-- The Great Quux
|
|
(with apologies to
|
|
Joni Mitchell)
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The Boys of HP
|
|
Original : The Boys of Summer
|
|
Group : Don Henley
|
|
Author : Adam Sah <aos@max.physics.sunysb.edu>
|
|
Intro : This reminds me of something we printed here in C.S. Major Magazine
|
|
regarding our beloved Hewlett-Packard 300 Series...
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
The Boys of HP (sung to the tune 'The Boys of Summer' by Don Henley)
|
|
--------------
|
|
(csfs1 = Comp. Sci File Server 1)
|
|
Nobody in the room
|
|
no cursor on the screen
|
|
I feel it in the air
|
|
'csfs1 not responding'
|
|
empty disk, empty screen,
|
|
the server goes down alone
|
|
I was logged into my account
|
|
and I know you have no phone.
|
|
|
|
I can see it
|
|
the workstation's collecting dust
|
|
You've got your 'console long:'
|
|
and your blank screen, baby.
|
|
And I can tell you
|
|
I'll never get my source by dawn
|
|
once the boys from HP have gone.
|
|
|
|
I'll never forget those night.
|
|
I wonder if I ever got to sleep?
|
|
Remember how you made me crazy
|
|
Remember how _you_ made _me_ scream?
|
|
I don't understand what happened to my source
|
|
If I can't ever get it back,
|
|
I'm sure you have no remorse.
|
|
|
|
I can see it
|
|
the system crashing on me
|
|
you've got your pinstriped suit
|
|
and your corporate paranoia, baby.
|
|
And I can tell you
|
|
my love for this will still be strong
|
|
after the boys of HP have gone
|
|
|
|
Out in the corridors I saw
|
|
a bunch of lost programmers
|
|
A little voice inside my head say,
|
|
"Don't buy more,
|
|
you should never buy more"
|
|
I thought I knew where my source was
|
|
What did I know?
|
|
Those servers are gone forever,
|
|
I should just let them go, but-
|
|
|
|
I can see it-
|
|
your drives eating my work
|
|
You've got that salesman's pitch
|
|
and your demo running baby.
|
|
and I can tell you-
|
|
my love for CS will still be strong
|
|
even after the boys from HP have gone.
|
|
|
|
(c) 1991 by Adam Sah
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The Bug Came Back
|
|
Original : The Cat Came Back
|
|
Group : Harry Miller
|
|
Author : Joel Polowin
|
|
Intro : I'd like to submit the following for your consideration.
|
|
Copyright (C) 1991 by Joel Polowin. Permission is hereby granted to
|
|
reproduce this material in any non-profit medium provided that its
|
|
content is not altered and that this notice is appended. I would
|
|
appreciate receiving a copy of any publication in which it appears:
|
|
Joel Polowin / 205 Toronto St. / Kingston,Ontario / CANADA / K7L 4A9
|
|
polowin@silicon.chem.QueensU.CA, polowinj@qucdn.QueensU.CA
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
The Bug Came Back
|
|
-----------------
|
|
(Copyright 1991 by Joel Polowin. Music: "The Cat Came Back" by Harry Miller)
|
|
|
|
The program wasn't complex, and it wasn't very long,
|
|
Though it seemed a bit erratic, its results were seldom wrong.
|
|
But that little error nagged us, so we stayed up late one night -
|
|
Found a missing comma, and we thought that fixed it right -
|
|
|
|
(Chorus:)
|
|
But the bug came back, the very next day
|
|
The bug came back, we thought it was a gonner
|
|
But the bug came back, it just wouldn't stay away.
|
|
|
|
We put away our documents, rewrote the code from scratch
|
|
To find out where the new and older versions didn't match.
|
|
A subtle shift of logic showed where we had gone astray;
|
|
We felt a bit embarrassed, but at least it ran okay -
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
We wrote in other languages, from FORTH to APL
|
|
And ev'ry one ran ev'ry time - just sometimes not too well.
|
|
Translation to assembler didn't give us any clue;
|
|
The COBOL version crashed on ev'ry system it went through -
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
We gave it to the hacker squad - the folks who code for fun -
|
|
And asked them if they couldn't get the stupid thing to run.
|
|
But less than one week later, they no longer wished to play -
|
|
Three paranoids... one suicide... and six who ran away...
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
We got a summer student in to check the code by hand,
|
|
With paper, pen and calculator, run through each command,
|
|
But suddenly the lights went out -- the air went thin and queer --
|
|
A sudden FLASH! of lightning -- and the student... disappeared..?
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
(Last verse and corresponding alternate chorus are optional:)
|
|
|
|
We set up an experiment that Schrodinger inspired:
|
|
A box; a cat; some poison; a computer system wired
|
|
Such that IF the program failed, the little moggy would be gassed.
|
|
A quasar was - almost - the only remnant of the blast...
|
|
|
|
But the cat came back the very next day
|
|
The bug came back, we thought they were a gonner
|
|
But they both came back, they just wouldn't stay away
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Bye, Bye, System
|
|
Original : Bye, Bye, Baby
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Albert Corda, Richard Holmes & David Kinder
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Bye, Bye, System
|
|
|
|
(to Bye, Bye, Baby)
|
|
by Albert Corda, Richard Holmes & David Kinder
|
|
|
|
|
|
Pack up all your I and O.
|
|
Here we go.
|
|
Core is low.
|
|
Bye, bye, system.
|
|
|
|
Watch the swapper swap you out.
|
|
Moan and cry,
|
|
Scream and shout.
|
|
Bye, bye, system.
|
|
|
|
No interpreter can understand me.
|
|
SOS has given up and banned me.
|
|
|
|
Rib block errors did me in.
|
|
JD swapped,
|
|
Just can't win.
|
|
System, bye, bye.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Bye Bye, Unix
|
|
Original : American Pie
|
|
Group : Don Mclean
|
|
Author : Cathy Flint, Eric Griswold, Scott Neugroschl
|
|
Intro : I went back to my old alma-mader, UC Santa Cruz, a week ago.
|
|
Things there always seem to be getting worse, although everybody
|
|
admits it's still better than Berkeley. Anyway, the current
|
|
rage is to make fun of the CIS (Computer & Informational Sciences)
|
|
department political situation through song verses. The following
|
|
is a typical example, even though some of it isn't true......
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
American Pie --- Hacker Style
|
|
|
|
Long, long, time ago, I can still remember
|
|
How UNIX used to make me smile...
|
|
And I knew that with a login name
|
|
That I could play those UNIX games
|
|
And maybe hack some programs for a while.
|
|
But February made me shiver
|
|
With every program I'd deliver
|
|
Bad news on the doorstep,
|
|
I couldn't take one more spec...
|
|
I can't remember getting smashed
|
|
When I heard about the system crash
|
|
And all the passwords got rehashed
|
|
The Day That UNIX Died...
|
|
And I was singing:
|
|
|
|
Bye, bye, nroff, rogue and vi
|
|
Gave my program to Phil Levy but Phil Levy was high,
|
|
The boys on the board were sayin' "fuck this, goodbye."
|
|
Singin' this'll be the day that I die...
|
|
This'll be the day that I die
|
|
|
|
Did you write the new games shell
|
|
And do you have faith in the manual?
|
|
If b:dennie tells you so...
|
|
Well, do you believe in UNIX C
|
|
Can hacking save you memory
|
|
And can you tell me why vi's so slow
|
|
Well, I know that you're in love with C
|
|
'Cause I saw your code on UNIX B
|
|
You just kicked off your shoes
|
|
Man, you cleaned up every kludge!
|
|
I was a lonely young computer geek
|
|
With a program due 'most every week
|
|
But I guess that I was meant to freak
|
|
The Day That UNIX Died
|
|
And I was singin:
|
|
|
|
(chorus)
|
|
|
|
Well, for ten weeks we've been in this class
|
|
The professor really is an ass.
|
|
But that's not how it used to be...
|
|
When Ira Pohl taught in CIS 12
|
|
And user limits could go to hell
|
|
And there was still space on UNIX C.
|
|
And while the board was looking 'round
|
|
The Chancellor brought the budget down
|
|
The classes were adjourned
|
|
Evaluations weren't returned
|
|
And while Huffman read a book by Pohl
|
|
The CIS board made some prof's heads roll
|
|
And we wrote programs that weren't whole
|
|
The Day That UNIX Died
|
|
And we were singin'...
|
|
|
|
(chorus)
|
|
|
|
Helter skelter in the summer swelter
|
|
I went in the lab to find some shelter
|
|
Ninety degrees and risin' faaaaaasst!!!
|
|
C stayed up for ten whole days
|
|
The hackers really were amazed
|
|
Wonderin' how long it all would last.
|
|
Well, both the forums were really great
|
|
Nobody got us all irate
|
|
We had a stroke of luck
|
|
The system was not fucked
|
|
'Cause the hackers kept their code real clean
|
|
The UNDR-shell was really keen
|
|
Do you recall what was the scene
|
|
The Day That UNIX Died
|
|
And we were singin...
|
|
|
|
(chorus)
|
|
|
|
Our programs were all in one place,
|
|
UNIX had run out of space
|
|
With no time left to start again...
|
|
So, Jack be nimble, Jack be quick,
|
|
Use every programming trick
|
|
'Cause UNIX may soon crash again...
|
|
And as I watched the system fill
|
|
My login process would be killed.
|
|
The system just went down
|
|
Consternation up at Crown!!!!
|
|
The hours went on into the night
|
|
And all that we could do was rite
|
|
I saw Dennie laughing with delight
|
|
The Day That UNIX Died
|
|
And he was singin'...
|
|
|
|
(chorus)
|
|
|
|
I met a girl who sang the blues
|
|
And I asked her for some stat lab news
|
|
But she just cursed and said "grow up"
|
|
I went down through the stat lab door
|
|
Where I'd learned of UNIX years before
|
|
But the man there said that UNIX wasn't up
|
|
And in the halls the students screamed,
|
|
The majors cried and the hackers dreamed,
|
|
But not a word was spoken
|
|
The Vaxes all were broken
|
|
And the three folks I admire most
|
|
The Father, Frank, and a.g.'s ghost
|
|
They caught the last train for the coast
|
|
The Day That UNIX Died
|
|
And they were singin...
|
|
|
|
So bye, bye, nroff, rogue and vi
|
|
Gave my program to Phil Levy but Phil Levy was high.
|
|
The boys on the board were sayin' "fuck this, goodbye"
|
|
Singin' this'll be the day that I die...
|
|
|
|
(with apologies to Don McLean)
|
|
|
|
-- Cathy Flint
|
|
Eric Griswold
|
|
Scott Neugroschl
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
|
|
Title: CAMM (Crustified Ancient of Main Memory)
|
|
Original: Justified Ancients of Moo Moo
|
|
Groyp: KLF
|
|
Author: Jonathan Dursi (dursi@clavius.stmarys.ca)
|
|
Intro: C CAMM - Crustified Ancient of Main Memory.
|
|
C
|
|
C This came out of the depths of despair while I was modifying
|
|
C A *really* old, *really* big (IMHO) FORTRAN program, that
|
|
C is CPU intensive and *seriously* inefficient.
|
|
C
|
|
C It just sort of appeared in my editor while I was working
|
|
C on the thing. And it produced fewer compilation errors
|
|
C than the rest of it...
|
|
C
|
|
C My sincerest of apologies to the KLF.
|
|
C - Jonathan Dursi
|
|
C dursi@clavius.stmarys.ca
|
|
Song:
|
|
|
|
|
|
Over a Meg of old FORTRAN!
|
|
Over a Meg of old FORTRAN!
|
|
|
|
Hey!
|
|
|
|
Hey, Hey!
|
|
Over a Meg of old FORTRAN!
|
|
(cruftified!)
|
|
|
|
Hey, Hey!
|
|
Over a Meg of old FORTRAN!
|
|
|
|
It's cruftified, and it's ancient,
|
|
and it loves to use up RAM.
|
|
|
|
(from 1K to the top!)
|
|
|
|
It's cruftified, and it's ancient,
|
|
and it's code I don't understand.
|
|
|
|
(and it's big, and it's BIG, and it's *BIG* now!)
|
|
|
|
He pulled me out of class, you see,
|
|
He said, "Dursi, _you_ know FORTRAN!
|
|
I doubt that you'll like what you're *going* to do,
|
|
But you'd better start now, because we need it soon!"
|
|
|
|
(Bring my 'C' back!)
|
|
|
|
Hey, Hey!
|
|
Over a Meg of old FORTRAN!
|
|
(cruftified!)
|
|
|
|
Hey, Hey!
|
|
Over a Meg of old FORTRAN!
|
|
|
|
old FORTRAN!
|
|
old FORTRAN!
|
|
Over a Meg of old FORTRAN!
|
|
|
|
It's cruftified, and it's ancient,
|
|
and it eats CPU, that CAMM...
|
|
|
|
(at least a GigaFLOP!)
|
|
|
|
It's cruftified, and it's ancient,
|
|
"But sir, I had other plans..."
|
|
|
|
(That's too bad, that's too bad, that's too bad now!)
|
|
|
|
The last compile started half hour ago,
|
|
And the users are starting to mob!
|
|
Over a Meg of old FORTRAN,
|
|
Then someone started screaming, turn off that job!
|
|
|
|
(give the keyboard back!)
|
|
|
|
Hey, Hey!
|
|
Over a Meg of old FORTRAN!
|
|
(cruftified!)
|
|
|
|
Hey, Hey!
|
|
Over a Meg of old FORTRAN!
|
|
|
|
(Cruftified and ancient,
|
|
Ancient and it's cruftified,
|
|
Will not compile though I've tried and tried,
|
|
With the errors in the go-tos,
|
|
Common Blocks and Do-loops
|
|
In the hundred thousand lines of the CAMM.
|
|
|
|
I'd really like to take a nap,
|
|
'Cuz I know what time it is,
|
|
But I think it will compile if I change this line...
|
|
Oops, well, guess not, looks like I'll be
|
|
Fishing through the listings all night.
|
|
|
|
Fishing through the listings all night!
|
|
Hey!
|
|
Fishing through the listings all night!
|
|
Hey!
|
|
Fishing through the listings,
|
|
Fishing through the listings,
|
|
Fishing through the listings all night!
|
|
Hey!
|
|
|
|
VAX Pascal!
|
|
Starting to look pretty good.
|
|
VAX FORTRAN?
|
|
Bring my 'C' Back!)
|
|
|
|
Hey, Hey!
|
|
Over a Meg of old FORTRAN!
|
|
|
|
Hey, Hey!
|
|
Over a Meg of old FORTRAN!
|
|
|
|
old FORTRAN!
|
|
old FORTRAN!
|
|
Over a Meg of old FORTRAN!
|
|
|
|
old FORTRAN!
|
|
old FORTRAN!
|
|
Over a Meg of old FORTRAN!
|
|
|
|
old FORTRAN!
|
|
old FORTRAN!
|
|
Over a Meg of old FORTRAN!
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Can't parse this
|
|
Original : U Can't Touch This
|
|
Group : MC Hammer
|
|
Author : patrick widener <pmw3y@acacia.cs.Virginia.EDU>
|
|
Intro : rap it to the tune of "U Can't Touch This" by MC Hammer,
|
|
and watch your phrasing.... :)
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
can't parse this
|
|
|
|
|
|
my assignments hit me so hard
|
|
make me say, "oh my lord
|
|
thank you for blessin me
|
|
with a load to code and a 2 hype seat"
|
|
right here, in front of a Sparc
|
|
looks good in the light, looks better in the dark
|
|
but it tells me - in a manner quite harsh
|
|
"This is a string I can't parse"
|
|
|
|
(I told ya, kludge-boy)
|
|
Can't Parse This
|
|
(yea, a fatal error and you know)
|
|
Can't Parse This
|
|
(look at that code, maaaan)
|
|
Can't Parse This
|
|
(yo lemme bust some funky diagnostics)
|
|
|
|
"fresh new bugs, and errors
|
|
your code is more than compiler terror
|
|
it's rotten - to the core
|
|
i don't like it but you know i'll get more
|
|
than i can handle
|
|
hold on
|
|
identifier not found or your semicolon's gone
|
|
step back - step back
|
|
can't you see i'm developing a crack
|
|
in my hardware - your code's a farce
|
|
cause this is a string I Can't Parse"
|
|
|
|
(yo i told ya)
|
|
Can't Parse This
|
|
(why you sittin there, man)
|
|
Can't Parse This
|
|
(yo, sound the terminal bell, ya got mail, sucka)
|
|
|
|
compile-time bugs disrupt my rhythm
|
|
it's tellin me trash is what i'm givin him
|
|
it's garbage, in and out
|
|
but instead of a nice little a.out
|
|
i get feedback
|
|
fed back
|
|
to me by this here RISC machine
|
|
no fun
|
|
what's it gonna take in the 90s to run these programs
|
|
4GLs?
|
|
either learn those or wind up in hell
|
|
|
|
that's longWORD because you know
|
|
Can't Parse This
|
|
Can't Parse This
|
|
|
|
top-down!
|
|
|
|
Stop! Compile Time!
|
|
|
|
go with the flow
|
|
it is said if you can't write in C then you probably are dead
|
|
so wave K&R in the air
|
|
waste a few nights, run your fingers thru your hair
|
|
this is it
|
|
no dinner - code like this and you'll surely get thinner
|
|
sitting
|
|
|
|
on your rump
|
|
watch your machine cause it's gonna do a dump
|
|
dump dump dump (core dumped)
|
|
|
|
Can't Parse This
|
|
Can't Parse This
|
|
(ya better get Turbo cause I can't)
|
|
I Can't Parse This
|
|
(ring the bell, your mail's been returned)
|
|
|
|
shutdown!
|
|
|
|
Stop! Link Time!
|
|
|
|
Can't Parse This
|
|
Can't Parse This
|
|
Can't Parse This
|
|
|
|
slowdown!
|
|
Stop! Run Time!
|
|
|
|
every time I program
|
|
it complains about my code
|
|
maybe i'm in the wrong book or Emacs is in the wrong mode
|
|
now i know that i'll never stop doing this
|
|
cause our 3rd party software keeps on giving us fits
|
|
i did an RTFM
|
|
read K&R all day
|
|
it's "Error!" "Big Error!" "Nasty Error!" "FATAL ERROR!"
|
|
so instead i'll go and play
|
|
|
|
Can't Parse This
|
|
Can't Parse This
|
|
I Can't Parse This
|
|
(yeah)
|
|
Can't Parse This
|
|
(i told ya, wahoos,)
|
|
Can't Parse This
|
|
(too many symbols)
|
|
Can't Parse This
|
|
(yo, we're outa here)
|
|
Can't P-- bus error (core dumped)
|
|
|
|
(c) 1991 Radio Free Lerxstwood
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : C Hacker in Paradise
|
|
Original : Cheeseburger in Paradise
|
|
Group : Jimmy Buffett
|
|
Author : Ulrika Bornetun
|
|
Intro : I'm being forced to write X/Motif programs in Ada, need I say more?
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Tried to amend my low-level habits
|
|
started learning Ada last fall
|
|
Writing tasks with conditional rendez-vous calls
|
|
Raising lots'a exceptions and handling them all
|
|
But at night I had these wonderful dreams
|
|
some kind of sensuous treat
|
|
Not of subtypes or generics or packages
|
|
but of function pointers and binary trees
|
|
|
|
( I was a...)
|
|
C hacker in paradise
|
|
putting my flags in an integer slice
|
|
Using K&R to be more precise
|
|
I'm just a C hacker in paradise
|
|
|
|
Heard about some of our managers
|
|
they want to do everything with a tool
|
|
Classes you browse by clicking with the mouse
|
|
Well it reminds me of some stuff I saw in primary school!
|
|
But I am not so easy to break;
|
|
When I'm at work I keep fighting back
|
|
Not with methods, drag-and-drop or a Hypercard stack
|
|
But with that miracle language in which I hack!
|
|
|
|
C hacker in paradise
|
|
writing code that's already optimized
|
|
putting my flags in an integer slice
|
|
I'm just a C hacker in paradise
|
|
|
|
I write all my functions with recursion
|
|
using implicit pointer conversion
|
|
Back with a longjmp and then a goto
|
|
Oh, good God almighty which way should I go
|
|
|
|
to be a
|
|
C hacker in paradise
|
|
Making all operations bitwise
|
|
Writing right onto the raw device
|
|
Yes, I'm a
|
|
C hacker in paradise
|
|
I'll be a
|
|
C hacker in paradise
|
|
I'm just a
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C hacker in paradise
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I write all ...
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C hacker in paradise ....
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Title : The Chilled Water Waltz
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Original : The Tennessee Waltz
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Group : ?
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Author : Amy Turner <tva!ltturne.office@mhs.attmail.com>
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Intro : My contribution was inspired a few years back by a Cray that was
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cooled by chilled water. Every other day, it seemed, the
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chilled water system would die, leaving us with no computer
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on which to compute.
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The tune is "The Tennessee Waltz".
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Song :
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THE CHILLED WATER WALTZ
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I was workin' and computin' on a week's worth of data
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When the system just happened to crash.
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I was cussin' and complainin', and while I was waitin'
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My data was turned into trash.
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I remember that night, how I turned and I tossed
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Thinkin' 'bout all that work I had lost.
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Yes, I lost two weeks of slavin' while the Muzak was playin'
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The beautiful chilled water waltz.
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When I found there was no backup, then I tore out my hair
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'Cause I just didn't know what to do.
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I had printed all my output, but that didn't work either;
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All my print jobs were stuck in the queue.
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I remember the day I accepted this job
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And was told of the system's great faults.
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Hope I never have the pleasure of hearing even one more measure
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Of the sickening chilled water waltz.
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Title : COBOL Programmer's Swing
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Original : Washington & Lee Swing
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Group : ?
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Author : Bill Laubenheimer
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Intro :
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Song :
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COBOL Programmer's Swing
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(to the tune of Washington & Lee Swing)
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by Bill Laubenheimer ?? ** SFC **
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A COBOL program never turns out right
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Though you may labor far into the night
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And though you work until your dying day
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It never will be quite okay-ay-ay-ay-ay
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And when you think that all the bugs are gone
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The fact is you are likely very wrong
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And when you finally have it going straight (going
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straight)
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It's .... too .... late!!!
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Title : Code-a-lot
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Original : Camelot
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Group : ?
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Author : Brad Needham
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Intro : ...on the occasion of converting from RSTS to UNIX.
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Song :
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Code-a-lot
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(to the tune of Camelot)
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by Brad Needham
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I welcome you to UNIX Version seven
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The operating system we just bought.
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It's running on our PDP-11
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It's CODE-A-LOT
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To have small files is certainly no disgrace
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The users of them have not been forgot
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For allocators do not waste your disk space
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In CODE-A-LOT
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CODE-A-LOT! CODE-A-LOT!
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Its pure simplicity beguiles.
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E.g. in CODE-A-LOT (CODE-A-LOT!)
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Directories are files.
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The output of a simple 'list directory'
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Is input for the program down the line
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You easily have got
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Exactly what you sought
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Through one brief line of input
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Using tools of CODE-A-LOT.
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CODE-A-LOT! CODE-A-LOT!
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No program-keys to cut and paste
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For in CODE-A-LOT (CODE-A-LOT!)
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You build commands to suit your taste.
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Your objects never lag behind your source code
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Upon request, new versions must appear.
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In short, there's simple not
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A more convenient spot
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For happy-every-aftering
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Than here in CODE-A-LOT!
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Title : Comp Sci Serenade
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Original : My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean
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Group : Traditional
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Author : Terry Bollinger & The Watt Five
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Intro :
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Song :
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Comp Sci Serenade
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(to My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean)
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by Terry Bollinger & The Watt Five
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My program lies under the backlog,
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My card deck's all over the floor,
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The plotter is using a crayon,
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And I just can't take any more.
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Chorus:
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Bring out, bring out,
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Oh, bring out my printout today, today!
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Bring out, bring out,
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The one you ripped off yesterday.
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The card reader chewed up my job card,
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And someone erased all my files,
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The system has been down for hours,
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While people collapse in the aisles.
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Chorus:
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Flunk out, flunk out,
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I worked like a dog each and every day!
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Flunk out, flunk out,
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Twelve projects were due yesterday!
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Security holes I've discovered,
|
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The records of grades are now mine.
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What once was a one point five average,
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Is now a three point nine nine!
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Chorus:
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Send out, send out,
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Oh, send out those grades to big companies!
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Send out, send out,
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They'll all want a scholar like me!
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Title : The Computerbury Tales
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Original : The Canterbury Tales
|
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Group : Geoffrey Chaucer
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Author : Anthony Berno
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Intro : I was recently given an architecture assignment that
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required me to write a paper describing the design features of the
|
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Alpha. With apologies to Geoffrey Chaucer, I would like to share
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with you the text of what I'm handing in tomorrow:
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Song :
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The Computerbury Tales
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by Anthony Berno
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General Prologue
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When the Vaxen with their markets pooped,
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The swarms of RISC hath made their beauty moot,
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And bathed every system in such high power,
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Which engendered the Architect's ardor;
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When journals with their reviewers' teeth,
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Inspired fear in DEC's elite,
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The young Radicals, and there are some,
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Hath RISC in hand, and had some fun.
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But the Managers made as if to flee,
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Forsaking the new technology,
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As if the Vaxen were entrenched,
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So no such clever chip,
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Could save the company.
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It happened, an assignment on a day,
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In Usenet, at comp.arch as I lay,
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|
Ready to begin another flame,
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|
On architecture, my knowledge lame,
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|
An email happened to arrive; Creativity, it was said,
|
|
Does not substitute for the thread
|
|
Of clarity and knowledge.
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|
|
"But amuse me if you must",
|
|
The Professor said; I trust,
|
|
This tale is appropriate and informed,
|
|
So as to raise the level of the norm,
|
|
And educate, if not to please.
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I think it of good reason,
|
|
To tell you of the condition
|
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Of architecture, in nineteen-ninety-three,
|
|
How RISC cheered, "I've won, I've won!"
|
|
As CISC goes to the garbage bin,
|
|
So it is with Alpha I begin.
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The Alpha's Tale
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|
All round the Alpha gathered we,
|
|
No tale of woe or misery
|
|
Would taint this young'ns tale,
|
|
Not one year old, he hails
|
|
from DEC, yet can outrun
|
|
Every other solution,
|
|
And so begins his story.
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"The Architects, of my homeland DEC,
|
|
Were mired, entrapped in dreck,
|
|
Of VAX compatibility.
|
|
They assumed the liability
|
|
Of a new chip, a bold approach,
|
|
But to be beyond reproach,
|
|
They needed to port old VMS,
|
|
(an OS in extreme duress)
|
|
Cleanly and with no compromise.
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|
A binary translator, they soon found,
|
|
Was technologically sound,
|
|
Since microcode was no longer nice,
|
|
They took the industry's good advice,
|
|
and looked ahead to see what they would need.
|
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|
|
'Two hundred MHz', they did accede,
|
|
'And three orders of magnitude
|
|
Improvement in its fortitude
|
|
Over a quarter century
|
|
Would be more than plenty
|
|
To ensure a market lead.'
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Spartan was my birth indeed,
|
|
No lot of warts and stuff,
|
|
Only what was just enough
|
|
For scalability and speed.
|
|
No arithmetic traps in hardware, please,
|
|
Software does it just as well,
|
|
And does not cause the alarum bell
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|
To ring, unless you so assign.
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Like the other RISC designs,
|
|
Operations are quite short and small,
|
|
Load/Store, Branch and ALU, that's all,
|
|
But for the clever PAL,
|
|
With primitives, they do tell,
|
|
Not quite like microcode, they are routines
|
|
Privileged for that software queen,
|
|
The operating system. Changed they can be,
|
|
To benefit systems not yet conceived,
|
|
Or languages that will leave you peeved,
|
|
Without bias; all are welcome here.
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|
|
|
Sixty four bits allays the fear,
|
|
Of addresses which exhaust the clout
|
|
Of processors, at about
|
|
Six tenths of a bit a year; this chip,
|
|
Would never cast a doubt, a blip
|
|
Of falling to the evil ways
|
|
Of segmentation, or other forays
|
|
Into doom, like Precision Architecture did.
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|
|
Multiple instruction launch, a bid
|
|
For tenfold bettering, in time,
|
|
Of execution of a program, mine
|
|
To have with better compilers,
|
|
And a scaled up design. Aside from that,
|
|
A faster clock would give another
|
|
Improvement in speed, but another
|
|
Factor of ten would be desired.
|
|
|
|
Parallel machines are all the rage, but mired,
|
|
In difficult synchronization grief,
|
|
Yet that extra speed, it is their belief,
|
|
Comes from more of us, it seems,
|
|
So the Architects, inspired by some dream,
|
|
Gave me a unique interlocking scheme,
|
|
That works with the fastest caches,
|
|
(Though this subject is one which clashes
|
|
With the well-being of my poor brain.)
|
|
|
|
|
|
Though many things were retained
|
|
From RISC, many had to be discarded;
|
|
Branch delays leave chips a bit retarded,
|
|
And compromise scalability. Predictive logic,
|
|
with compiled-in hints as to the target,
|
|
Are the future. Hints indeed are well suggested,
|
|
And exist for memory, as it's ingested
|
|
By a running process. Address mapping, in the virtual sense,
|
|
Is also hinted, although this makes sense,
|
|
Only to a wizard, I fear.
|
|
(Certainly, there are none here!)
|
|
|
|
Finally, I must confess,
|
|
I was made originally to impress
|
|
The scientists with their Vaxen,
|
|
So I needed some attraction
|
|
To these folks with reams of data.
|
|
I was thus endowed with formats four
|
|
for floating point; the original VAX, and more,
|
|
IEEE is there, and my routines
|
|
For integer conversion, I wene,
|
|
Should enjoy their approval.
|
|
|
|
But, (he said with dismal voice)
|
|
Hackers may no longer have a choice
|
|
About using compilers. Assembled code will run,
|
|
but writing it will not be fun, and it will lack finesse.
|
|
Compiler writers, on the other hand,
|
|
Will be very much in demand,
|
|
To make the humblest code run faster.
|
|
Indeed, it will be a master
|
|
Who can write compilers for my interface -
|
|
if single instructions are hard to trace,
|
|
Try two, or five, or ten at once.
|
|
|
|
For speed, my modest design fronts
|
|
Multiple instructions, you see,
|
|
Since much of my design is free
|
|
To work when other parts are taken.
|
|
Scalability is what brings home the bacon."
|
|
|
|
HIs tale all done, smitten were we,
|
|
With such insightful technology,
|
|
Like a fine Bordeaux, he could
|
|
Be drunken today, but would
|
|
Be better in a few years time.
|
|
|
|
This young Alpha, first in line
|
|
Of a family of amazing power,
|
|
Fearsome indeed, we could but lower
|
|
Our eyes, for no barbing jest
|
|
Or tale that could best
|
|
The Alpha's story came into our minds.
|
|
|
|
"Worry not", said he, "That was but the Marketer's line,
|
|
And money talks; just wait and see
|
|
If the Architect's delivery
|
|
Lives up to the marketing hype."
|
|
|
|
The Alpha was correct; his life
|
|
Depended on inventions which,
|
|
Although likely, still had yet to be.
|
|
Yet though he made that warning,
|
|
Tomorrow brought a morning,
|
|
One bit closer to the day,
|
|
When our users would be forced to say
|
|
That we'd run out of steam.
|
|
|
|
Humbled were we by Alpha's dream,
|
|
With shaky steps we continued on,
|
|
Our journey seeming ever long,
|
|
Unto our fate: Anon.
|
|
|
|
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|
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|
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Title : Computerized Girl
|
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Original : Material Girl
|
|
Group : Madonna
|
|
Author : Ulrika Bornetun
|
|
Intro : I wrote this song for my boyfriend a while ago, and sorry guys, he
|
|
IS an awesome Motif hacker.
|
|
Song :
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|
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Some boys kiss me, some boys hug me
|
|
I think they're OK
|
|
If they can't help me with my callbacks
|
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I just walk away.
|
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|
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They can beg and they can plead
|
|
but they can't see the light
|
|
Cause the boy who knows Motif
|
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is always Mister Right.
|
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|
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Cause we are living in a computerized world
|
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and I am a computerized girl
|
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You know that we are living in a computerized world
|
|
and I am a computerized girl.
|
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|
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Some boys romance, some boys slow dance
|
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That's all right with me
|
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If they can't raise my windows then I
|
|
have to let them be
|
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|
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Some boys try and some boys lie but
|
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I don't let them play
|
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Only boys that know their X calls
|
|
make my buggy day
|
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|
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Cause we are living ...
|
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|
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Boys may come and boys may go
|
|
and that's all right you see
|
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Experience had taught me X
|
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and now they're after me.
|
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|
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Cause you know that we are living ....
|
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@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
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|
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Title : Computer Man
|
|
Original : Piano Man
|
|
Group : Billy Joel
|
|
Author : ?Bruce Gaya
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Computer Man
|
|
|
|
|
|
It's 10 AM on a Wednesday
|
|
The regular crowd shuffles in
|
|
There's an old man up at the blackboard
|
|
Getting off on programs that ``win''
|
|
|
|
He says ``Son, you will build an automata
|
|
I'm not really sure how it goes
|
|
But its cycles are neat
|
|
And I knew it complete
|
|
When I wore an undergrad's clothes''
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
Write me some code, you're a computer man
|
|
Write me some code tonight
|
|
I expect you'll be thinking of suicide
|
|
If your program's not running tonight.
|
|
|
|
Now John the TA is a friend of mine
|
|
And he gets CPU's for free
|
|
Now he's quick with his hacks
|
|
That will prop up the Vax
|
|
But there's someplace that he'd rather be
|
|
|
|
He said ``Bill, I believe this is killing me!''
|
|
As the smile ran away from his face
|
|
``Yes I'm sure that I could get my Ph.D
|
|
If I could get out of this place.''
|
|
|
|
Now Bruce is a permanent student
|
|
Who has programmed most of his life
|
|
And he's talking to Davy
|
|
Who's still at Carnegie
|
|
And probably will be for life
|
|
|
|
And the faculty's practicing politics
|
|
As their graduates slowly grow old
|
|
They say ``Think of the thrill and accomplishment
|
|
That writing a paper will hold''
|
|
|
|
(Repeat Chorus)
|
|
|
|
I've done a pretty good job on my Master's
|
|
And my advisor gives me a smile
|
|
`cause when guys like me
|
|
will do research for free
|
|
His job is secure for a while
|
|
|
|
And recruiters, they call on the telephone
|
|
and they offer me plant trips and beer
|
|
They look me in the eye
|
|
Then say with a sigh
|
|
``MAN, WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!''
|
|
|
|
(Repeat Chorus)
|
|
|
|
*** the names used above are taken from Joel's
|
|
original lyrics and do not denote real people.
|
|
|
|
--- Adapted by Bruce Gaya ;
|
|
a recent MSEE from Carnegie-Mellon University
|
|
Mail and Post at will.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The Computer Nevermore
|
|
Original : The Raven
|
|
Group : Edgar Allan Poe
|
|
Author : ?
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
Once upon a midnight dreary, fingers cramped and vision bleary,
|
|
System manuals piled high and wasted paper on the floor
|
|
Longing for the warmth of bedsheets,
|
|
Still I sat there, doing spreadsheets;
|
|
Having reached the bottom line,
|
|
I took a floppy from the drawer.
|
|
Typing with a steady hand, then invoked the SAVE command
|
|
But I got a reprimand: it read RAbort, Retry, Ignore.S
|
|
|
|
Was this some occult illusion? Some maniacal intrusion?
|
|
These were choices Solomon himself had never faced before.
|
|
Carefully, I weighed my options.
|
|
These three seemed to be the top ones.
|
|
Clearly I must now adopt one:
|
|
Choose RAbort, Retry, Ignore.S
|
|
|
|
With my fingers pale and trembling,
|
|
SLowly toward the keyboard bending,
|
|
Longing for a happy ending, hoping all would be restored,
|
|
Praying for some guarantee
|
|
Finally I pressed a key--
|
|
But on the screen what did I see?
|
|
Again: RAbort, Retry, Ignore.S
|
|
|
|
I tried to catch the chips off-guard--
|
|
I pressed again, but twice as hard.
|
|
Luck was just not in the cards.
|
|
I saw what I had seen before.
|
|
Now I typed in desperation
|
|
Trying random combinations
|
|
Still there came the incantation:
|
|
Choose: RAbort, Retry, Ignore.S
|
|
|
|
There I sat, distraught exhausted, by my own machine accosted
|
|
Getting up I turned away and paced across the office floor.
|
|
And then I saw an awful sight:
|
|
A bold and blinding flash of light--
|
|
A lightning bolt had cut the night and shook me to my very core.
|
|
I saw the screen collapse and die
|
|
ROh no--my data base,S I cried
|
|
I thought I heard a voice reply,
|
|
RYouUll see your data Nevermore!S
|
|
|
|
To this day I do not know
|
|
The place to which lost data goes
|
|
I bet it goes to heaven where the angels have it stored
|
|
But as for productivity, well
|
|
I fear that IT goes straight to hell
|
|
And thatUs the tale I have to tell
|
|
Your choice: RAbort, Retry, Ignore.S
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Control-C Song
|
|
Original : Don't Fence Me In
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : PMW, from DEC archives
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Control-C Song
|
|
|
|
|
|
(to the tune of Don't Fence Me In)
|
|
by PMW, from DEC archives
|
|
|
|
|
|
If you log on the -10 'cause you want to run some
|
|
code...
|
|
|
|
HIT CONTROL-C
|
|
|
|
If the system is slow 'cause its got a great big load...
|
|
|
|
HIT CONTROL-C
|
|
|
|
If your code isn't givin' you the right reaction,
|
|
You're stuck in a loop, you ain't gettin' no action,
|
|
One thing you can do to get some satisfaction...
|
|
|
|
HIT CONTROL-C
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Core dumped blues
|
|
Original : ?
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : ?
|
|
Intro : (from Fortune file on IBM RISC 6000)
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
Well, my terminal's locked up, and I ain't got no Mail
|
|
And I can't recall the last time my Program didn't fail;
|
|
I've got stacks in my structs, I've got array in my queues,
|
|
I've got the : Segmentation violation -- Core dumped blues.
|
|
|
|
If you think that's nice that you get what you C,
|
|
Then go : illogical statment with your whole family,
|
|
'Cause the Supreme Court ain't the only place with : Bus error views.
|
|
I've got the : Segmentation violatien -- Core dumped blues.
|
|
|
|
On a PDP-11, life should be a breeze,
|
|
But with VAXen in the house even magnetic tape would freeze,
|
|
Now you might think that unlike VAXen I'd know who I abuse,
|
|
I've got the : Segmentation violation -- Core dumped blues.
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : CPU Delight
|
|
Original : Afternoon Delight
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Sarah Elizabeth Miller
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
CPU Delight
|
|
|
|
(to Afternoon Delight)
|
|
by Sarah Elizabeth Miller
|
|
|
|
|
|
Started out one morning with a hopeful heart.
|
|
Sitting down at a terminal all ready to start.
|
|
My fingers stretching out to hit the terminal keys,
|
|
Just waiting for the sign that says "login please."
|
|
|
|
Chorus:
|
|
Words, nybbles, and bytes,
|
|
CPU delights,
|
|
CPU delights,
|
|
CPU delights.
|
|
|
|
Came back later on to run "space-point-bas"
|
|
Hoping that the system wouldn't want to crash.
|
|
Found dinner time had passed before I was through,
|
|
My program taking minutes in the CPU.
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
Be running UNIX when I'm logging on.
|
|
We'll be running "RIVER" 'til the night is gone.
|
|
|
|
Sunrise's time to run the program called "account,"
|
|
Finding out I've overspent it by a huge amount.
|
|
But to get the program running is my one delight.
|
|
So, I'm sitting here typing 'til the morning light.
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Crasher's Song
|
|
Original : Teddy Bears' Picnic
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author :
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Crasher's Song
|
|
|
|
|
|
(to the tune of Teddy Bears' Picnic)
|
|
from DEC archives
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
If you log on to the -10 today...
|
|
you're sure of a big suprise.
|
|
The monitor runs on the -10 today,
|
|
with nary a lone demise.
|
|
|
|
There's not a bug, a halt, or a pause,
|
|
a hang, a crash, or reload because...
|
|
Today's the day the programmers keep their hands off.
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : CRASH! goes the System
|
|
Original : POP goes the weasel
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : ?
|
|
Intro : Here's one my father wrote some years ago. It used to hang
|
|
on the door to the computer room in building 2 at Goddard Space
|
|
Flight Center (NASA).
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
CRASH! goes the System
|
|
|
|
Two specks of dust on a Winchester disk
|
|
No use to hope you missed them
|
|
That's the way computing goes--
|
|
CRASH! goes the system.
|
|
|
|
Go exchange the circuit boards
|
|
Try and use your wisdom
|
|
No way will you catch that bug--
|
|
CRASH! goes the system.
|
|
|
|
Our pride and joy has features galore
|
|
It takes a day to list them
|
|
And none of them can be used any more--
|
|
CRASH! goes the system.
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The Crash of the Ten and Eleven
|
|
Original : The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Abe Friedman & Sarah Elizabeth Miller
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
The Crash of the Ten and Eleven
|
|
|
|
|
|
(to The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald)
|
|
by Abe Friedman & Sarah Elizabeth Miller
|
|
|
|
|
|
The memories live on from the Tower on down
|
|
Of the time Jonny Day did endeavor
|
|
To save the accounts that were scrambled or lost
|
|
In the Crash of the Ten and Eleven.
|
|
|
|
Does anyone know where the users can go
|
|
When the systems are hopelessly tangled,
|
|
When the tapes and the disks are in snarls and twists
|
|
And the files are shredded and mangled?
|
|
|
|
The DEC men one day came down Baltimore way
|
|
On a routine maintenance mission.
|
|
And when they were through everybody would rue
|
|
The computer's down-hearted condition.
|
|
|
|
Pity ECAS when the entire class
|
|
Found only one block in the core.
|
|
When anyone logged in the whole system fell in
|
|
'Cause the Ten couldn't take any more.
|
|
|
|
Strange the commands of the SF crazed fans
|
|
When they came down to print out their songbook.
|
|
The Eleven got worse with each new obscene verse
|
|
Which brought many foul curses and long looks.
|
|
|
|
With terrible smiles they created new files
|
|
'Til the Eleven, it just couldn't take it.
|
|
Though Vandelinde swore, it would process no more
|
|
And not even Erol could make it.
|
|
|
|
So now JHU had possession of two
|
|
Computers that sat there and quivered.
|
|
And so Garland called over to Barton Hall
|
|
"From this fate we must all be delivered."
|
|
|
|
And there Jonny Day could find nothing to say
|
|
As his eyes gazed upward to Heaven.
|
|
He silently prayed to be whisked far away
|
|
From the Crash of the Ten and Eleven.
|
|
|
|
But brave Jonny Day knew there was much work to do
|
|
And he knew that he'd better get to it,
|
|
For the faculty had said they would have Jonny's head
|
|
If by lunchtime he hadn't got through it.
|
|
|
|
So taking a look in his maintenance book
|
|
And turning to page forty-seven
|
|
In the hope it would tell of the magical spell
|
|
That would cure the Ten and Eleven,
|
|
|
|
He read of the way he could rescue the Day
|
|
And calm the neurotic computers.
|
|
The way to the core was a game of seawar
|
|
With the ships all manned by superusers.
|
|
|
|
Oh, the game that they had in the Undergrad Lab
|
|
Is a take that's worthy of singing,
|
|
For the echoing sound of each ship going down
|
|
Was the bells in their Tower a-ringing.
|
|
|
|
And so the DEC Ten, it was working again
|
|
And, too by the graces of Heaven,
|
|
Were the tapes and the disks that had been sorely missed
|
|
On the E.E. Department's Eleven.
|
|
|
|
The legend lived on from the Tower on down
|
|
Of Jon Day and the way he endeavored
|
|
To save the accounts that were scrambled or lost
|
|
In the Crash of the Ten and Eleven.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : CRAY-S's coolant
|
|
Original : Octopusse's Garden
|
|
Group : Beatles
|
|
Author : aem@aber.ac.uk (Alec David Muffett)
|
|
Intro : [fragment]
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
I'd like to be
|
|
under the sea,
|
|
in a CRAY1-S's coolant in the shade
|
|
|
|
This freon gas
|
|
will freeze my ass,
|
|
in a CRAY1-S's coolant in the shade...
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Cycles For Nothing
|
|
Original : Money For Nothing
|
|
Group : Dire Straits
|
|
Author : Matt Crawford <matt@oddjob.uchicago.edu>
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Cycles For Nothing
|
|
|
|
(i want my
|
|
i want my
|
|
i want my X-MP!)
|
|
|
|
Now look at them yo-yo's that's
|
|
the way you do it
|
|
You run the fortran on the X-MP
|
|
That ain't hackin' that's the way
|
|
you do it
|
|
Cycles for nothin', gigabits for free
|
|
Now that ain't hackin' that's the way
|
|
you do it
|
|
Lemme tell ya them guys ain't dumb
|
|
Maybe Monte Carlo on a three-quark
|
|
system
|
|
Maybe design a little neutron bomb
|
|
|
|
We gotta install microwave uplinks
|
|
Custom fuzzballs for everyone
|
|
We gotta link up DDS circuits
|
|
BERT and loopback tests to run
|
|
|
|
See the kid professor with the blue
|
|
jeans and the necktie
|
|
Yeah buddy that's his own hair
|
|
That kid professor got his Nobel
|
|
prize now
|
|
That kid professor he's a millionaire
|
|
|
|
We gotta install microwave uplinks
|
|
Custom fuzzballs for everyone
|
|
We gotta link up DDS circuits
|
|
BERT and loopback tests to run
|
|
|
|
I shoulda stuck to writing in fortran
|
|
I shoulda kept that old 029
|
|
Look at that output, he got it stacked
|
|
up to the ceilin'
|
|
I bet he ain't read one line
|
|
And in there, what's that?
|
|
A hundred postdocs?
|
|
Bangin' on the keyboards like some
|
|
chimpanzees
|
|
That ain't hackin' that's the way you
|
|
do it
|
|
Cycles for nothin', gigabits for free
|
|
|
|
We gotta install microwave uplinks
|
|
Custom fuzzballs for everyone
|
|
We gotta link up DDS circuits
|
|
BERT and loopback tests to run
|
|
|
|
|
|
by Matt Crawford
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Dasi, Dasi
|
|
Original : A Bicycle Built For Two
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Sarah Elizabeth Miller & Abe Friedman
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Dasi, Dasi
|
|
|
|
(to A Bicycle Built For Two)
|
|
by Sarah Elizabeth Miller & Abe Friedman
|
|
|
|
|
|
Dasi, Dasi, give me my output, do.
|
|
I'm half crazy waiting for you to get through.
|
|
I don't understand why it's taking
|
|
So long for the process I'm making.
|
|
I don't ask much,
|
|
But it is such
|
|
A bore sitting waiting for you.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The Data-comm Song
|
|
Original : Home on the Range)
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : ?
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
The Data-comm Song
|
|
|
|
|
|
(to the tune of Home on the Range)
|
|
from DEC archives
|
|
|
|
|
|
Oh give me a line which stays up all the time
|
|
and a modem which won't drop a bit
|
|
And nodes, by the peck, which all run up to spec.
|
|
And a telephone linemans' tool kit
|
|
|
|
Dee, dee, see em pee
|
|
(DDCMP)
|
|
Pee dee pee 10, see pee you
|
|
(PDP-10, CPU)
|
|
En ess pee, are jay E
|
|
(NSP, RJE)
|
|
En see el, see are see
|
|
(NCL, CRC)
|
|
E eye aye, are ess too 30 too
|
|
(EIA, RS-232)
|
|
|
|
We've now got a net, without any sweat
|
|
With routing and route-through to boot
|
|
And, quick as a wink, we've avoided Bisync
|
|
And distributed we can compute
|
|
|
|
See, see, eye tee tea
|
|
(CCITT)
|
|
Ess dee el see, bee ess see
|
|
(SLDC, BSC)
|
|
Ess why en, dee el E
|
|
(SYN, DLE)
|
|
Ess oh H, E tea bee
|
|
(SOH, ETB)
|
|
Ess tee eks, for . too kay H zee
|
|
(ETX, 4.2kHz)
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The Day Bell System Died
|
|
Original : American Pie
|
|
Group : Don Mclean
|
|
Author : Lauren Weinstein <vortex!lauren@LBL-CSAM>
|
|
Intro : Greetings. With the massive changes now taking place in the
|
|
telecommunications industry, we're all being inundated with
|
|
seemingly endless news items and points of information regarding
|
|
the various effects now beginning to take place. However, one
|
|
important element has been missing: a song! Since the great
|
|
Tom Lehrer has retired from the composing world, I will now
|
|
attempt to fill this void with my own light-hearted, non-serious
|
|
look at a possible future of telecommunications. This work is
|
|
entirely satirical, and none of its lyrics are meant to be
|
|
interpreted in a non-satirical manner. The song should be sung
|
|
to the tune of Don Mclean's classic "American Pie".
|
|
I call my version "The Day Bell System Died"...
|
|
Song :
|
|
*==================================*
|
|
* Notice: This is a satirical work *
|
|
*==================================*
|
|
|
|
"The Day Bell System Died"
|
|
|
|
Lyrics Copyright (C) 1983 by Lauren Weinstein
|
|
|
|
(To the tune of "American Pie")
|
|
(With apologies to Don McLean)
|
|
|
|
ARPA: vortex!lauren@LBL-CSAM
|
|
UUCP: {decvax, ihnp4, harpo, ucbvax!lbl-csam, randvax}!vortex!lauren
|
|
|
|
|
|
Long, long, time ago,
|
|
I can still remember,
|
|
When the local calls were "free".
|
|
And I knew if I paid my bill,
|
|
And never wished them any ill,
|
|
That the phone company would let me be...
|
|
|
|
But Uncle Sam said he knew better,
|
|
Split 'em up, for all and ever!
|
|
We'll foster competition:
|
|
It's good capital-ism!
|
|
|
|
I can't remember if I cried,
|
|
When my phone bill first tripled in size.
|
|
But something touched me deep inside,
|
|
The day... Bell System... died.
|
|
|
|
And we were singing...
|
|
|
|
Bye, bye, Ma Bell, why did you die?
|
|
We get static from Sprint and echo from MCI,
|
|
"Our local calls have us in hock!" we all cry.
|
|
Oh Ma Bell why did you have to die?
|
|
Ma Bell why did you have to die?
|
|
|
|
Is your office Step by Step,
|
|
Or have you gotten some Crossbar yet?
|
|
Everybody used to ask...
|
|
Oh, is TSPS coming soon?
|
|
IDDD will be a boon!
|
|
And, I hope to get a Touch-Tone phone, real soon...
|
|
|
|
The color phones are really neat,
|
|
And direct dialing can't be beat!
|
|
My area code is "low":
|
|
The prestige way to go!
|
|
|
|
Oh, they just raised phone booths to a dime!
|
|
Well, I suppose it's about time.
|
|
I remember how the payphones chimed,
|
|
The day... Bell System... died.
|
|
|
|
And we were singing...
|
|
|
|
Bye, bye, Ma Bell, why did you die?
|
|
We get static from Sprint and echo from MCI,
|
|
"Our local calls have us in hock!" we all cry.
|
|
Oh Ma Bell why did you have to die?
|
|
Ma Bell why did you have to die?
|
|
|
|
Back then we were all at one rate,
|
|
Phone installs didn't cause debate,
|
|
About who'd put which wire where...
|
|
Installers came right out to you,
|
|
No "phone stores" with their ballyhoo,
|
|
And 411 was free, seemed very fair!
|
|
|
|
But FCC wanted it seems,
|
|
To let others skim long-distance creams,
|
|
No matter 'bout the locals,
|
|
They're mostly all just yokels!
|
|
|
|
And so one day it came to pass,
|
|
That the great Bell System did collapse,
|
|
In rubble now, we all do mass,
|
|
The day... Bell System... died.
|
|
|
|
So bye, bye, Ma Bell, why did you die?
|
|
We get static from Sprint and echo from MCI,
|
|
"Our local calls have us in hock!" we all cry.
|
|
Oh Ma Bell why did you have to die?
|
|
Ma Bell why did you have to die?
|
|
|
|
I drove on out to Murray Hill,
|
|
To see Bell Labs, some time to kill,
|
|
But the sign there said the Labs were gone.
|
|
I went back to my old CO,
|
|
Where I'd had my phone lines, years ago,
|
|
But it was empty, dark, and ever so forlorn...
|
|
|
|
No relays pulsed,
|
|
No data crooned,
|
|
No MF tones did play their tunes,
|
|
There wasn't a word spoken,
|
|
All carrier paths were broken...
|
|
|
|
And so that's how it all occurred,
|
|
Microwave horns just nests for birds,
|
|
Everything became so absurd,
|
|
The day... Bell System... died.
|
|
|
|
So bye, bye, Ma Bell, why did you die?
|
|
We get static from Sprint and echo from MCI,
|
|
"Our local calls have us in hock!" we all cry.
|
|
Oh Ma Bell why did you have to die?
|
|
Ma Bell why did you have to die?
|
|
|
|
We were singing:
|
|
|
|
Bye, bye, Ma Bell, why did you die?
|
|
We get static from Sprint and echo from MCI,
|
|
"Our local calls have us in hock!" we all cry.
|
|
Oh Ma Bell why did you have to die?
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The Day SunOS Died
|
|
Original : American Pie
|
|
Group : Don Mclean
|
|
Author : N. R. Norm Lunde <norm@ctr.columbia.edu>
|
|
Intro : I made up the following bit of filk during a Computability class.
|
|
Hope you like it.
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Day SunOS Died
|
|
===================
|
|
Lyrics by N. R. "Norm" Lunde.
|
|
Apologies to Don McLean.
|
|
|
|
Remember when those guys out West
|
|
With their longish hair and paisley vests
|
|
Were starting up, straight out of UCB?
|
|
They used those Motorola chips
|
|
Which at the time were really hip
|
|
And looked upon the world through VME.
|
|
Their first attempt ran like a pig
|
|
But it was the start of something big;
|
|
They called the next one the Sun-2
|
|
And though they only sold a few
|
|
It soon gave birth unto the new
|
|
Sun-3 which was their pride
|
|
And now they're singing
|
|
|
|
"Bye, bye, SunOS 4.1.3!
|
|
ATT System V has replaced BSD.
|
|
You can cling to the standards of the industry
|
|
But only if you pay the right fee --
|
|
Only if you pay the right fee . . ."
|
|
|
|
The hardware wasn't all they sold.
|
|
Their Berkeley port was solid gold
|
|
And interfaced with System V, no less!
|
|
They implemented all the stuff
|
|
That Berkeley thought would be enough
|
|
Then added RPC and NFS.
|
|
It was a lot of code to cram
|
|
Into just four megs of RAM.
|
|
The later revs were really cool
|
|
With added values like SunTools
|
|
But then they took us all for fools
|
|
By peddling Solaris . . .
|
|
And they were singing,
|
|
<chorus>
|
|
|
|
They took a RISC and kindled SPARC.
|
|
The difference was like light and dark.
|
|
The Sun-4s were the fastest and the best.
|
|
The user base was having fun
|
|
Installing SunOS 4.1
|
|
But what was coming no one could have guessed.
|
|
The installed base was sound
|
|
And software did abound.
|
|
While all the hackers laughed and played
|
|
Already plans were being made
|
|
To make the dubious "upgrade"
|
|
To Sun's new Solaris . . .
|
|
And Sun was singing,
|
|
<chorus>
|
|
|
|
The cartridge tapes were first to go --
|
|
The CD-ROM's a must, you know
|
|
And floppy drives will soon go out the door.
|
|
I tried to call and ask them why
|
|
But they took away my TTY
|
|
And left my modem lying on the floor.
|
|
While they were on a roll
|
|
They moved the damned Control.
|
|
The Ethernet's now twisted pair
|
|
Which no one uses anywhere.
|
|
ISDN is still more rare --
|
|
The bandwidth's even less!
|
|
But still they're singing
|
|
<chorus>
|
|
|
|
But worst of all is what they've done
|
|
To software that we used to run
|
|
Like dbx and even /bin/cc.
|
|
Compilers now have license locks
|
|
Wrapped up in OpenWindows crocks --
|
|
We even have to pay for GCC!
|
|
The applications broke;
|
|
/usr/local went up in smoke.
|
|
The features we've depended on
|
|
Before too long will all be gone
|
|
But Sun, I'm sure, will carry on
|
|
By peddling Solaris,
|
|
Forever singing,
|
|
<chorus>
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The DEC Man cometh
|
|
Original : The Gas Man cometh
|
|
Group : Michael Flounders and Donald Swan
|
|
Author : Russell Street (russells@ccu1.aukuni.ac.nz)
|
|
Info : Ever have one of those days...
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Twas on the Monday morning the DEC man came to call
|
|
The VAX wouldn't boot -- we weren't getting VAX at all
|
|
He tore out all the cables winding around the VAX
|
|
And we had to call the hardware guys in to put them back again.
|
|
|
|
<Chorus> Oh it all makes work for the working man to do
|
|
|
|
Twas on the Tuesday morning their technician came 'round
|
|
He soldered and he tested and said "Look what I've found"
|
|
"Your ROMs are all the old versions, but I'll put them all to right"
|
|
Then he shorted out a cable, and out down all the Suns
|
|
|
|
<Chorus>
|
|
|
|
Was on a Wednesay morning the Sun technican came
|
|
He called me Mr Sanderson which isn't quite me name
|
|
He couldn't fix the server without our CD drive
|
|
And as root on the SG he typed 'unlink /', so we called SGI in
|
|
|
|
<Chorus>
|
|
|
|
Was on the Thursday morning the SGI rep came along
|
|
With his mini-root tapes and his manuals and his merry SGI song
|
|
He reinstalled the system -- it took no time at all
|
|
But we had to get the Next people in to come and fix the NFS
|
|
|
|
<Chorus>
|
|
|
|
Was on a Friday morning the Next man made a start
|
|
With mounts and exports he crossmounted every disk
|
|
Every machine and every directory, but I found when he was gone
|
|
He changed some IP addresses, and our VAX had gone!
|
|
|
|
<Chorus>
|
|
|
|
On Saturday and Sunday they do no work at all
|
|
So was on the Monday morning that the VAX man came to call...
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : DECman
|
|
Original : The Gas Man Cometh
|
|
Group : Flanders and Swann
|
|
Author : Tony Duell
|
|
Intro : This is dedicated to all those who called out DEC field service
|
|
for a simple problem, and wished you hadn't..........
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
It was on a Monday morning
|
|
The DEC man came to call,
|
|
My system wouldn't boot
|
|
There was no prompt at all
|
|
He pulled out all my SPC's
|
|
To try a new backplane
|
|
And I had to get the hardware guys
|
|
to put them back again
|
|
Oh it all makes work for field service men to do!
|
|
|
|
It was on a Tuesday morning
|
|
The hardware man came round
|
|
He soldered and he fiddled
|
|
And he said 'Look what I've found'
|
|
'Your ECOs are years behind'
|
|
'But I'll put it all to rights'
|
|
Then he shorted out the power supply
|
|
and out went all the lights
|
|
Oh it all makes work for field service men to do!
|
|
|
|
It was on a Wednesday morning
|
|
The power supply came
|
|
'It's newer and it's better'
|
|
'But it works just the same'
|
|
He could not fit the unit
|
|
without stripping half the rack
|
|
then he dropped my boot HDA
|
|
so He called Peripherals back
|
|
Oh it all makes work for field service men to do!
|
|
|
|
It was on a Thursday morning
|
|
The HDA came along
|
|
with a blocklist and a cable
|
|
and a list of what goes wrong
|
|
He put it into my drive
|
|
It took no time at all
|
|
But I had to get the software guys
|
|
to come and re-install
|
|
Oh it all makes work for field service men to do
|
|
|
|
It was on a Friday morning
|
|
That Software made a start
|
|
With BACKUP and SYSGEN
|
|
He configured every part
|
|
Every track and every sector
|
|
But I found when he was gone
|
|
He had overwritten the boot track
|
|
and I couldn't turn it on
|
|
|
|
On saturday and Sunday They do no work at all
|
|
So It was on a Monday morning that the DEC man came to call
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Destruction
|
|
Original : As The Caissons Go Rolling Along
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Sarah Elizabeth Miller
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Destruction
|
|
|
|
(to the tune of As The Caissons Go Rolling Along)
|
|
by Sarah Elizabeth Miller
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Scratch the disks, dump the core,
|
|
Roll the tapes across the floor,
|
|
And the system is going to crash.
|
|
Teletypes, smashed to bits,
|
|
Give the scopes some nasty hits,
|
|
And the system is going to crash.
|
|
And we've also found
|
|
When you turn the power down,
|
|
You turn all the disk drives into trash!
|
|
Oh, its so much fun,
|
|
Now the CPU won't run,
|
|
And the system is going to crash.
|
|
|
|
Shut it down, pull the plug,
|
|
Give the core an extra tug,
|
|
And the system is going to crash.
|
|
Mem'ry cards, one and all,
|
|
Toss them halfway down the hall,
|
|
And the system is going to crash.
|
|
We'll just flip one switch,
|
|
And the lights will cease to twitch,
|
|
And the tapedrives will crumble in a flash.
|
|
When the C-P-U
|
|
Can print nothing out but '...foo...',
|
|
Then the system is going to crash.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The Devil Went Down to Crawford
|
|
Original : The Devil Went Down to Georgia
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : J. Benson, J. Doll, S. Fraim (with a little help from T. Recko)
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
The Devil Went Down to Crawford
|
|
|
|
(to the tune of The Devil Went Down to Georgia)
|
|
by J. Benson, J. Doll, S. Fraim
|
|
(with a little help from T. Recko)
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Devil went down to Crawford 'cause he was lookin'
|
|
for an IMP to steal.
|
|
So he searched the hall for a protocol, and he was
|
|
willin' to make a deal.
|
|
When he came across a chairman writin' an exam and
|
|
writin' it rough
|
|
Then the Devil jumped up on an ADDS 200 and said, "Boy,
|
|
you think you know your stuff."
|
|
|
|
"I'll bet you didn't know it, but I'm a full professor
|
|
too,
|
|
And if you'd care to take a dare, I'll make a bet with
|
|
you.
|
|
You've designed some pretty good networks, boy, but give
|
|
the devil his due:
|
|
I'll bet a window of gold against your soul I can
|
|
transmit better than you!"
|
|
|
|
The man said, "My name is Chuckie, and it might be a sin
|
|
But I'll draw your net, you're gonna regret, 'cause I'm
|
|
the best there's ever been."
|
|
|
|
Chuckie sharpen up your pencil and define your
|
|
routing scheme
|
|
'Cause hell's broke loose in Crawford and the
|
|
devil's feelin' mean.
|
|
Now if you win you'll get this sender's window
|
|
made of gold,
|
|
But if you lose the devil gets your soul.
|
|
|
|
The Devil drew a topology with style and perfect poise,
|
|
And frames flew into buffers as he calculated noise.
|
|
As his datagrams arrived with ease, he cooly stopped and
|
|
stared --
|
|
Well, his Petri net was mighty fine, but Chuckie wasn't
|
|
scared.
|
|
|
|
(insert messy petri net here for instrumental)
|
|
|
|
When the Devil finished, Chuckie said, "Well, your
|
|
subnet's fast, I agree.
|
|
But just sit right there and let me show you N.mPc!"
|
|
|
|
Chorus:
|
|
Packets on the network, run bits run
|
|
Acks on the line until transmission's done
|
|
Try to make your channel error-free;
|
|
Check your message out with a CRC.
|
|
|
|
The Devil saw that baud rate and he knew that he'd been
|
|
beat,
|
|
And he laid that golden window on the ground at
|
|
Chuckie's feet.
|
|
Chuckie said, "That's worth a C, so you might want to
|
|
try again,
|
|
'Cause I told you before, you undergrad, don't design
|
|
with a ball-point pen!"
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The Disks of UNIX
|
|
Original : Sound of Silence
|
|
Group : Simon and Garfunkel
|
|
Author : ? Malcolm Dickinson <CLARINET@YALEVMX>
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Disks of UNIX
|
|
=================
|
|
Submitted by Malcolm Dickinson <CLARINET@YALEVMX>
|
|
Sung to the Tune of "Sounds of Silence"
|
|
by Simon and Garfunkel
|
|
|
|
Hello comix my old friend.
|
|
I've come to program you again.
|
|
because a student softly creeping,
|
|
guessed my password while I was sleeping.
|
|
And the programs
|
|
with just remnants in my brain,
|
|
don't remain,
|
|
upon the disks... of UNIX.
|
|
|
|
In flick'ring lights I type along.
|
|
Load my program, what was wrong?
|
|
Letters haloed by my squinting,
|
|
at the program that I was lint-ing.
|
|
For my eyes were blurred
|
|
by the flash of the cathode beam,
|
|
term'nal screen,
|
|
and all the C... on UNIX.
|
|
|
|
And in the fuzzy light I saw
|
|
10,000 hackers, maybe more:
|
|
Hackers staring without blinking,
|
|
hackers typing without thinking.
|
|
Hackers writing code
|
|
that programs never shared.
|
|
(No one dared,
|
|
disturb the disks... of UNIX.)
|
|
|
|
"Fools," said I, "you do not know.
|
|
Kludges make the d.u. grow.
|
|
Comment functions that I might read them.
|
|
Update man-files 'cause I might need them."
|
|
But my words
|
|
like unread printout fell,
|
|
(Oh well...)
|
|
An echo,
|
|
On the disks... of UNIX.
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Don't Call From Home
|
|
Original : The Man's Too Strong
|
|
Group : Dire Straits
|
|
Author : Jonathon Luning <LUNJONT@YALEVMX>
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
Don't Call From Home
|
|
====================
|
|
by Jonathon Luning <LUNJONT@YALEVMX>
|
|
Sung to the Tune of "The Man's Too Strong"
|
|
by Dire Straits
|
|
|
|
I'm just an ageing hacker-boy
|
|
And in the days I used to play
|
|
And I've called the tune
|
|
To many a system's ruin.
|
|
Now they say I am a real criminal
|
|
And I'm hiding away.
|
|
Just one more terminal session.
|
|
|
|
I have simplified robbery
|
|
With my PCs.
|
|
I have called in the money
|
|
And it's now overseas.
|
|
I have re-written bank accounts
|
|
With thousands on my books;
|
|
Made up identities
|
|
Without changing my looks.
|
|
|
|
And I can still hear the touch-tones
|
|
And the clicks on the phone.
|
|
Don't call too long.
|
|
Don't call from home.
|
|
|
|
Well I've cracked IBM
|
|
And I've cracked NSA
|
|
And I've cracked every network
|
|
In the whole USA.
|
|
I have called out on Sprint
|
|
And from any payphone;
|
|
Billed to people
|
|
I never have known.
|
|
|
|
And I can still hear the touch-tones
|
|
And the clicks on the phone.
|
|
Don't call too long.
|
|
Don't call from home.
|
|
|
|
Well the sun comes in my office
|
|
And they all did hear him say
|
|
"You're really too much for us,
|
|
You're worth more than we can pay.
|
|
You may still hear from Burroughs
|
|
But I ask you now today:
|
|
Won't you please work with us
|
|
At the good old CIA?"
|
|
Now I run all surveillance
|
|
From LA to Kremlin's dome.
|
|
Don't call too long.
|
|
Don't call from home.
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : DP Man
|
|
Original : Piano Man
|
|
Group : Billy Joel
|
|
Author : Greg Gerke
|
|
Intro : A revision of an old favorite ...
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
DP Man
|
|
(sung to the tune "Piano Man" by Billy Joel)
|
|
|
|
It's eight o'clock on a Monday,
|
|
The programming crowd staggers in,
|
|
There's a user by my terminal,
|
|
With drool running off of his chin.
|
|
He says, "Son, can you code me some processing,
|
|
I'm not really sure what I want,
|
|
But it's short and it's sweet and it's NP-complete
|
|
And it has to be finished by lunch."
|
|
|
|
Chorus:
|
|
|
|
They say, "Write us some code, you're the DP man,
|
|
Write us some code today,
|
|
'Cause we need this report for the CEO,
|
|
And he wants it by yesterday."
|
|
|
|
Now, Tim at the console's a friend of mine,
|
|
He bumps up my priority,
|
|
And he'll bum me a smoke or some Twinkies and Coke,
|
|
But there's someplace that he'd rather be.
|
|
He said, "Paul, I believe it's a dead-end here,"
|
|
As the smile ran away from his face,
|
|
"But I'm sure I could find work with IBM,
|
|
If I could get out of this place."
|
|
|
|
Now, Mark is a frustrated racing man,
|
|
Whose license is riding on luck,
|
|
And he's talking with Jeff who scares mopeds to death,
|
|
With those forty-inch tires on his truck.
|
|
Well, it's pretty good code for a Monday,
|
|
And my team leader gives me a smirk,
|
|
'Cause he knows that it's me they'll be coming to see,
|
|
When they find out that it didn't work.
|
|
|
|
And the keyboard, it clicks like a tickertape
|
|
And the CRT screams like a jet,
|
|
And they walk by my cube and throw pens at my tube,
|
|
And say, "Man, ain't they fixed that thing yet ?"
|
|
And the old hands are screaming to standardize,
|
|
As the patches and kludges pile up,
|
|
'Cause this place is a hacker's own paradise:
|
|
It's a string-handling-in-Fortran shop.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Don't Have a Conniption
|
|
Original : Walk Like an Egyptian
|
|
Group : Bangles
|
|
Author : Brent C.J. Britton
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Don't Have a Conniption
|
|
=======================
|
|
by Brent C.J. Britton
|
|
Sung to the tune of "Walk Like an Egyptian"
|
|
by the Bangles
|
|
|
|
All the system ops in this place,
|
|
They monitor me, just for fun.
|
|
If I logon here,
|
|
(ohwayoh)
|
|
They force me off 'fore my profile runs.
|
|
|
|
'Cause I have a reputation
|
|
For doing things which I shouldn't be,
|
|
Like running CHATS,
|
|
(ohwayoh)
|
|
And bootlegging Lotus-123.
|
|
|
|
So you see, when they yell at me, I say,
|
|
(wayohwayoh, wayohwayoh)
|
|
"Don't have a conniption..."
|
|
|
|
Found how to change all my privs;
|
|
I didn't know that I broke a rule.
|
|
I forced the op,
|
|
(ohwayoh)
|
|
I dropped the link, then I purged the spool.
|
|
|
|
All the sys ops, so sick of me,
|
|
They don't let my databases run.
|
|
I broke CP,
|
|
(ohwayoh)
|
|
They had a big fat connip-tion.
|
|
|
|
When they NOLOG my account, I say
|
|
(wayohwayoh, wayohwayoh)
|
|
"Don't have a conniption..."
|
|
|
|
They've hated me since I stored
|
|
Inside the real PSW.
|
|
We crashed hard you know,
|
|
(ohwayoh)
|
|
I guess I forgot a bit or two.
|
|
|
|
If you want to find software cops,
|
|
They're hanging out in the software shops.
|
|
They kick your pants,
|
|
(ohwayoh)
|
|
And give the boot to your VMBLOCK.
|
|
|
|
I ran my Turing Machine;
|
|
Another one was assembl'in.
|
|
And it crunched all night,
|
|
(ohwayoh)
|
|
The system op had connip'tions.
|
|
|
|
To software cops in the software shops, I say
|
|
(wayohwayoh, wayohwayoh)
|
|
"Don't have a conniption..."
|
|
"Don't have a conniption."
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Emacs Wizard
|
|
Original : Pinball Wizard
|
|
Group : The Who
|
|
Author : ?
|
|
Intro : Complete with formatting and all :-)
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
\documentstyle[twocolumn,12pt]{article}
|
|
|
|
\begin{document}
|
|
|
|
\begin{verse}
|
|
|
|
|
|
Ever since I was a young boy\\
|
|
I've played with each O.S.\\
|
|
From Unix down to Kronos \\
|
|
I've crashed them I confess\\
|
|
But I ain't seen nothing like him\\
|
|
Not even in VMS\\
|
|
That set-mark and bind kid\\
|
|
Sure strokes a mean Emacs.
|
|
|
|
He sits there never blinking\\
|
|
Becomes part of the machine\\
|
|
Controls with either pinkie\\
|
|
A virtual typing stream\\
|
|
He optimizes keystrokes\\
|
|
Swamps your Microvax\\
|
|
That set-mark and bind kid\\
|
|
Sure strokes a mean Emacs.
|
|
|
|
He's an Emacs wizard \\
|
|
Without a binding list\\
|
|
An Emacs wizard \\
|
|
s' got such a calloused wrist.
|
|
|
|
How do you think he does it? I don't know!\\
|
|
What makes him so good?
|
|
\newpage
|
|
|
|
He ain't got no distractions\\
|
|
He refuses warning bells\\
|
|
He heeds no cursor flashing\\
|
|
Plays by sense of smell\\
|
|
He never needs to undo\\
|
|
Knows all of Stallman's hacks\\
|
|
That set-mark and bind kid\\
|
|
Sure strokes a mean Emacs.
|
|
|
|
I thought I was \\
|
|
The keyboard-macro kid\\
|
|
But I just handed\\
|
|
My Emacs crown to him.
|
|
|
|
Even my usual bindings\\
|
|
He prefixed all my best\\
|
|
His disciples feed him Coke\\
|
|
And he just does the rest\\
|
|
He's got super-meta-fingers\\
|
|
Never hits the cracks\\
|
|
That set-mark and bind kid\\
|
|
Sure strokes a mean Emacs.
|
|
|
|
\end{verse}
|
|
\end{document}
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : EVER ONWARD, IBM
|
|
Original : ?
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : ?
|
|
Intro : The song is *old*. I haven't any idea when it came out,
|
|
but it has a flavor of the '30s at the latest. (And how
|
|
many other a.f.c. readers find that the words make one
|
|
think of the silliness of a Mary Kay Cosmetics pep rally?)
|
|
I had a copy of the music sheet many years ago; it's
|
|
probably buried in one of my files marked "humor" from
|
|
several moves back. For today's posting I copied the text
|
|
from the SHARE songbook, where it appears with such favorites as:
|
|
|
|
Should old Chuck Forney be forgot (and HASP songs sung no more)?
|
|
Real Good Throughput, Here I Come
|
|
If I Had a HASP (I'd be SPOOLin' in the morning)
|
|
JES 2, Joy of Man's Desiring
|
|
|
|
and, of course, that old standby:
|
|
|
|
HASPy Days are Here Again
|
|
|
|
Joe Morris <jcmorris@mwunix.mitre.org>
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
EVER ONWARD, IBM
|
|
|
|
There's a thrill in store for all
|
|
For we're about to toast
|
|
The corporation that we represent.
|
|
We're here to cheer each pioneer and also proudly boast,
|
|
Of that man of men, our sterling president
|
|
The name of T. J. Watson means a courage none can stem
|
|
And we feel honored to be here to toast the I-B-M
|
|
|
|
Ever Onward! Ever Onward!
|
|
That's the spirit that has brought us fame.
|
|
We're big but bigger we will be.
|
|
We can't fail for all can see, that serve humanity
|
|
Has been our aim.
|
|
Our products now are known in every zone.
|
|
Our reputation sparkles like a gem.
|
|
We've fought our way through
|
|
And new fields we're sure to conquer, too.
|
|
For the ever onward I-B-M!
|
|
|
|
Ever onward! Ever Onward!
|
|
We're bound for the top to never fall
|
|
Fight here and now we thankfully
|
|
Pledge sincerest loyalty
|
|
To the corporation that's the bets of all.
|
|
Our leaders we revere and while we're here,
|
|
Let's show the world just what we think of them!
|
|
So let us sing men -- sing men
|
|
Once or twice, then sing again
|
|
For the ever onward I-B-M!
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Every Cycle is Sacred
|
|
Original : Every Sperm is Sacred
|
|
Group : Monty Python (Meaning of Life)
|
|
Author : Tony Duell <ard@siva.bris.ac.uk>
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
There are Suns in this world, there are Apples,
|
|
There are Sequents and Goulds and then,
|
|
There are those who clone I B M, BUT
|
|
I've never been one of them.
|
|
|
|
For I'm an 11/45
|
|
and have been since the day I was made
|
|
And the one thing they say about PDP's is
|
|
They'll run no matter what they said,
|
|
You don't have to be in a six-footer,
|
|
You don't have to have a 9-slot backplane
|
|
You don't have to have Memory Management,
|
|
You're booted the moment DCLO came, For
|
|
|
|
Every Cycle is Sacred,
|
|
Every Cycle is Great,
|
|
If a cycle gets wasted,
|
|
DEC gets quite irate!
|
|
|
|
{Repeat}
|
|
|
|
Let the others waste them,
|
|
On floating-point multiply
|
|
DEC shall make them pay for
|
|
Each add able to be skipped by.
|
|
|
|
Every cycle is wanted
|
|
Every cycle is good
|
|
Every cycle is needed
|
|
In your neighbourhood
|
|
|
|
Intel, Sun and Zilog
|
|
Branch their's just anywhere
|
|
DEC loves those who write
|
|
Their Microcode with more care
|
|
|
|
Every cycle is useful
|
|
Every cycle is fine
|
|
DEC saves everybody's
|
|
Time and Time and Time.
|
|
|
|
Other systems waste theirs
|
|
while fetching o'er t'backplane
|
|
DEC shall strike them down for
|
|
each cycle thats run in vain
|
|
|
|
Every cycle is sacred,
|
|
Every cycle is great,
|
|
If a cycle gets wasted,
|
|
DEC GETS QUITE IRATE!!!
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The Field Service Anthem
|
|
Original : Take Me Out to the Ball Game
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : PMW & SG, from DEC archives
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
The Field Service Anthem
|
|
|
|
|
|
(to the tune of Take Me Out to the Ball Game)
|
|
by PMW & SG, from DEC archives
|
|
|
|
|
|
Take me out to the main-frame,
|
|
take me out to the disk.
|
|
Give me my 'scope and my solder gun,
|
|
I'll find out why this damn thing won't run.
|
|
For it's test, test, test all those modules;
|
|
until they burst out in flame.
|
|
For it's one, two, three shorts you're out,
|
|
in the old main-frame.
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Fifty Ways to Hose Your Code
|
|
Original : Fifty Ways to Leave Your Lover
|
|
Group : Paul Simon
|
|
Author : Al Pena
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Fifty Ways to Hose Your Code
|
|
----- ---- -- ---- ---- ----
|
|
|
|
The problem's all inside your code she said to me;
|
|
Recursion is easy if you take it logically.
|
|
I'm here to help you if you're struggling to learn C,
|
|
There must be fifty ways to hose your code.
|
|
|
|
She said it's really not my habit to #include,
|
|
And I hope my files won't be lost or misconstrued;
|
|
But I'll recompile at the risk of getting screwed,
|
|
There must be fifty ways to hose your code.
|
|
|
|
Just blow up the stack Jack,
|
|
Make a bad call Paul,
|
|
Just hit the wrong key Lee,
|
|
And set your pointers free.
|
|
|
|
Just mess up the bus Gus,
|
|
You don't need to recurse much,
|
|
You just listen to me.
|
|
|
|
She said it greives me to see you compile again.
|
|
I wish there were some hardware that wasn't such a pain.
|
|
I said I appreciate that and could you please explain,
|
|
About the fifty ways.
|
|
|
|
She said why don't we both just work on it tonight,
|
|
And I'm sure in the morning it'll be working just right.
|
|
Then she hosed me and I realized she probably was right,
|
|
There must be fifty ways to hose your code.
|
|
|
|
Just lose the address Les,
|
|
Clear the wrong Int Clint,
|
|
Traverse the wrong tree Lee,
|
|
And set your list free.
|
|
|
|
Just mess up the bus Gus,
|
|
You don't need to recurse much,
|
|
You just program in C.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The First TOPS-10
|
|
Original : The First Noel
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Albert Corda, Richard Holmes & David Kinder
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
The First TOPS-10
|
|
|
|
(to The First Noel)
|
|
by Albert Corda, Richard Holmes & David Kinder
|
|
|
|
|
|
The first TOPS-10
|
|
From Maynard, they say,
|
|
Lasted twenty-three seconds
|
|
And then went away.
|
|
It went away so fast
|
|
That it zeroed its core.
|
|
And the series one monitor
|
|
Was no more.
|
|
|
|
TOPS-10, TOPS-10,
|
|
TOPS-10, TOPS-10,
|
|
Born is the rival of IBM.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Fork()ing on a Sun
|
|
Original : Seasons in the Sun
|
|
Group : Terry Jacks
|
|
Author : aem@aber.ac.uk (Alec David Muffett)
|
|
Intro : Here's a little ditty I penned back in 1987 when I was first
|
|
getting to grips with IP (and killing the machine at the same time).
|
|
If you don't recognise the words well enough to get the tune, you
|
|
weren't born... as for pronunciation, pronounce "vi" as "vye" -
|
|
that way, the song scans properly. No flames, please...
|
|
The chorus is a wonderful thing to sing in pubs (bars) when you
|
|
and a group of hackers get together, because it is eminently recog-
|
|
nisable, but no-one outside your group will have the foggiest idea
|
|
what you're on about...
|
|
[fragment]
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Goodbye my shell, it's hard to "vi",
|
|
I cannot socket(), even though I try,
|
|
Everything keeps going wrong...
|
|
It needs a bind() to carry on,
|
|
Proc' table's been full for too long.
|
|
|
|
Chorus:
|
|
We had Joy, We had fun,
|
|
We were fork()ing on a Sun,
|
|
but the joy is all gone,
|
|
'til the processes are Done [1].
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : FORTRAN
|
|
Original : Pressure
|
|
Group : Billy Joel
|
|
Author : Thomas Koenig <ib09@rz.uni-karlsruhe.de>
|
|
Intro : A little song about one of the joys of scientific computation
|
|
[second revision]
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
FORTRAN
|
|
|
|
You have to learn to pace yourself
|
|
FORTRAN
|
|
You're just like everybody else
|
|
FORTRAN
|
|
You've only had to write Pascal
|
|
So far
|
|
But you will come to the day
|
|
When the only thing that counts
|
|
Are megaflops on a Cray
|
|
And you'll have to deal with
|
|
FORTRAN
|
|
|
|
You used to call me paranoid
|
|
FORTRAN
|
|
But even you can not avoid
|
|
FORTRAN
|
|
You swore that ENTRY's a sure road to ruin
|
|
Now here you are with old code
|
|
COMMON blocks are misaligned
|
|
Assigned GOTOs disturb your mind
|
|
And you cannot handle FORTRAN
|
|
|
|
All grown up and no place to go
|
|
Pascal, Prolog,
|
|
What do you know?
|
|
All your life is a Lisp machine,
|
|
Linked lists, quicksort,
|
|
What does it mean?
|
|
FORTRAN
|
|
FORTRAN
|
|
|
|
Don't ask me for help
|
|
You're all alone
|
|
FORTRAN
|
|
You'll have to code it
|
|
On your own
|
|
FORTRAN
|
|
I'm sure you'll have some cosmic rationale
|
|
But here's your program, incomplete,
|
|
Two weeks late, three times too slow
|
|
Nothing to do but log on now
|
|
And write all your code in
|
|
FORTRAN
|
|
FORTRAN
|
|
|
|
All your life is Byte Magazine
|
|
I read it too
|
|
What does it mean?
|
|
FORTRAN
|
|
|
|
I'm sure you'll have some cosmic rationale
|
|
But here you are with old code
|
|
COMMON blocks are misaligned
|
|
Assigned GOTOs disturb your mind
|
|
And you have to code in
|
|
FORTRAN
|
|
FORTRAN, FORTRAN
|
|
One, two, three, four
|
|
FORTRAN
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : FORTRAN Programs
|
|
Original : On, Wisconsin
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Bill Laubenheimer
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
FORTRAN Programs
|
|
|
|
(to the tune of On, Wisconsin)
|
|
by Bill Laubenheimer ?? ** SFC **
|
|
|
|
|
|
FORTRAN programs, FORTRAN programs
|
|
Run through the machine!
|
|
Count your errors, watch them mounting
|
|
'Til you're turning green (rah! rah! rah!)
|
|
|
|
FORTRAN programs, FORTRAN programs
|
|
Never work okay
|
|
Till you find out they were
|
|
Due yes-ter-daaaay!
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : FORTRAN Song
|
|
Original : Blue Skies
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : PMW & SG, from DEC archives
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
FORTRAN Song
|
|
|
|
|
|
(to the tune of Blue Skies)
|
|
by PMW & SG, from DEC archives
|
|
|
|
|
|
FORTRAN smilin' at me, nothing but FORTRAN do I see.
|
|
COBOL, take it away, nothin' but FORTRAN for me today.
|
|
Never saw the bits flowin' so right,
|
|
gettin' together, makin' a byte.
|
|
Gettin' my answers, quick as a flash,
|
|
system is hummin', never a crash...
|
|
With FORTRAN, always bug free, don't need no listin' or
|
|
DDT.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : French Horn Concerto (for modem users)
|
|
Original : French Horn Concerto No 4 for French Horn by Motzart,
|
|
based on the arrangment and lyrics by...
|
|
Group : Micheal Flounders and Donald Swan
|
|
Author : Russell Street (russells@ccu1.aukuni.ac.nz)
|
|
Info : The original starts:
|
|
I once had a whim and I had to obey it
|
|
To by a french horn in a second hand shop
|
|
I polished it up and I started to play it
|
|
Inspite of my neighbour who begged me to stop
|
|
The music was rearranged for a piano, so these
|
|
lyrics may not fit any orchestral version of the
|
|
"original".
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
I once had a whim and I had to obey it
|
|
To by a modem from a second hand shop
|
|
I made up a cable and I started to use it
|
|
In spite of my girlfriend who begged me to stop
|
|
|
|
To use my modem, I had to change my sleeping habits
|
|
I found that I could only get on at night
|
|
So many boards abound -- to give you a world, a beatuiful world so rich and round
|
|
Oh the hours I had to spend before I got onto them it in the end
|
|
|
|
But that was yesterday and just to day I looked in the the usual place
|
|
There was the modem, but the cable itself was missing
|
|
Where can it have gone? Haven't you -- hasn't anyone seen my cable
|
|
Where can it have gone? What a blow, know I know I'm unable to read my net news
|
|
|
|
Who wipped that cable? I bet you a quid somebody did.
|
|
Knowing I had found a news group and wanted to read it
|
|
Afraid of my talents in talk.bizzare
|
|
For early today to my utter dismay it had vanished away to the ???? morn
|
|
|
|
I've lost that cable. I know I was using it yesterday
|
|
I've lost that cable, lost that cable, found that cable -- gorn
|
|
There's not much else to say -- I had better delay a report (?)
|
|
|
|
I know some party folk whose party jokes pretending to hunt with quart (?)
|
|
Gone away -- gone away -- was it one of them took it away?
|
|
Would you kindly return that serial cable -- where is the devil who pinched my cable?
|
|
|
|
I took it to the net.police -- I want that serial cable back
|
|
I miss my news more and more and more
|
|
With out that chat I'm feeling sad and so forlorn
|
|
Oh oh oh oh oh oh....
|
|
|
|
I found a board and wanted to play use it to display my talents in talk.bizzare
|
|
But early to day to my utter dismay it had totally vanished away
|
|
|
|
I thought up some stuff and I wanted to send it, but somebody took it away
|
|
I thought up some stuff and was longing to send it, but somebody took it away
|
|
|
|
My girlfriend is a sleep in her bed.
|
|
I will soon make her wish I was dead
|
|
I'll take up nethack instead
|
|
Whaaa, whaaa
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Friend of the System
|
|
Original : Friend of the Devil
|
|
Group : Jerry Garcia & Robert Hunter
|
|
Author : Larry Stone <STONE@YALECS>
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Friend of the System
|
|
====================
|
|
By Larry Stone <STONE@YALECS>
|
|
Submitted by Jeff Brandenburg <BRAND@VTCS1>
|
|
Sung to the tune of "Friend of the Devil"
|
|
by Jerry Garcia & Robert Hunter
|
|
|
|
I logged on to the Ed-VAX, left a trail of coffee grounds.
|
|
Didn't get to sleep that night 'til the morning came around.
|
|
|
|
Chorus:
|
|
Said I'll run my program but it will take some time;
|
|
A friend of the System is a friend of mine.
|
|
If I get done before daylight,
|
|
I just might write some code tonight.
|
|
|
|
Ran into the System, baby, and it tried to blow me off.
|
|
Spent the evening learning Pascal but still all it does is scoff!
|
|
|
|
(chorus)
|
|
|
|
I tried to run the editor, but the System caught me there;
|
|
It took my FORTRAN program and it vanished in the air!
|
|
|
|
(chorus)
|
|
|
|
Got two reasons why I stay awake each night and day;
|
|
The first one's name I can't pronounce, but he is my TA.
|
|
The second one's my college Dean, 'cause I'm about to fail!
|
|
She says if I don't pass C.S. I won't be long at Yale.
|
|
|
|
Got a program in T-Lisp, baby, and one in FORTRAN IV.
|
|
The first one has a hundred bugs but the other one has more!
|
|
|
|
(chorus)
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Gateway To Heaven
|
|
Original : Stairway To Heaven
|
|
Group : Led Zeppelin
|
|
Author : EileenET Tronolone <et@sctc.af.mil>
|
|
Intro : I just had to send it in, fellas. I'm sorry. I could not let all
|
|
that stuff go by and not send it in.
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
Gateway To Heaven
|
|
|
|
There's a lady who knows
|
|
All the systems and nodes
|
|
And she's byteing a Gateway to Heaven
|
|
She telnets there, she knows
|
|
All the ports have been closed
|
|
With a nerd she can get
|
|
Files she came for
|
|
|
|
Woohoohoo
|
|
Woo Hoo Hoo HooHoo
|
|
And she's byteing a Gateway to Heaven
|
|
There's an motd
|
|
But she wants to be sure
|
|
Cos she knows sometimes hosts have
|
|
Two domains
|
|
In a path by the NIC
|
|
There's a burdvax that pings
|
|
Sometimes all of our flames
|
|
are cross-posted
|
|
|
|
Woohoohoo
|
|
Woo Hoo Hoo HooHoo
|
|
And she's byteing a Gateway to Heaven
|
|
And it's processed by root
|
|
Unix Labs will reboot
|
|
NCR will then listen to reason
|
|
And a prompt will respawn
|
|
For those yet to logon
|
|
And the networks will echo much faster
|
|
|
|
Woohoohoo
|
|
Woo Hoo Hoo HooHoo
|
|
And she's byteing a Gateway to Heaven
|
|
If there's a lookup in your netstat
|
|
don't be .alarmed now
|
|
it's just a pinging from the link queen
|
|
Yes there are two routes you can type in
|
|
but in the long run
|
|
there's still time to change the net you're on
|
|
(I hope so!)
|
|
|
|
And as we find stuff to download
|
|
We ftp and we chmod
|
|
There was a sysadm we know
|
|
Who changed the server to her own
|
|
She had root privs and she used chown
|
|
She hacked out on the DDN
|
|
And if you tail her stdin
|
|
Then you will find what you had lost
|
|
And get it back with cpio
|
|
To be a hack and not to scroll...
|
|
|
|
And she's byteing a Gateway to Heaven
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Gateway To Net Ten
|
|
Original : Stairway To Heaven
|
|
Group : Led Zeppelin
|
|
Author : Mark Lottor <mkl@nisc.sri.com>
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
GATEWAY TO NET TEN -- Mark Lottor
|
|
|
|
[Original words and music by Jimmy Page and Robert Plant]
|
|
|
|
There's a hacker who's sure all that's coax is fast
|
|
and he's buying a gateway to net ten.
|
|
When he gets it he'll know if the ports are all closed
|
|
with a SYN he can get what he sent for.
|
|
|
|
Ooh ooh ooh ooh, ooh ooh ooh ooh
|
|
and he's buying a gateway to net ten.
|
|
|
|
There's an RFC on the wall but he wants to be sure
|
|
cause you know sometimes words have two meanings.
|
|
In a note on the page there's a warning that says
|
|
sometimes all of our code is broken.
|
|
|
|
Don't ya know, it makes me wonder.
|
|
|
|
There's an error I get when I send to the net
|
|
and my packets are lost and retransmitting.
|
|
In my logs I have seen loops of mail thru the machine,
|
|
and the screams of those who are hacking.
|
|
|
|
Oooh, it makes me wonder.
|
|
|
|
And it's whispered that soon if we all fix and tune
|
|
then the packets will reach their destinations.
|
|
And a new day will dawn for hosts that stay long
|
|
and the telnets will echo quite faster.
|
|
|
|
Ohhhhh, it makes me wonder.
|
|
|
|
If there's a bustle in your cisco, don't be alarmed now
|
|
it's just a quick ping for the NIC machine.
|
|
Yes there are two paths you can route by, but in the long haul
|
|
there's still time to change the protocol.
|
|
|
|
Yowwww, it makes me wonder.
|
|
|
|
Your host is loaded and it will slow in case you don't know,
|
|
the unix's are asking you to join them.
|
|
Dear hacker, do you see the overflow, and did you know
|
|
your gateway is still under development.
|
|
|
|
And as we wind out more coax, and gateways slower than our hosts,
|
|
There goes a message we all know, it updates routes and wants to show
|
|
how everything still turns quite slow.
|
|
And if you listen very hard, the bits will come to you at last.
|
|
When all are ones and ones are all, to be a rubout and not a null.
|
|
|
|
And he's buying a gateway to net ten...
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Girls just wanna defun
|
|
Original : Girls just wanna have fun
|
|
Group : Cindy Lauper
|
|
Author : ?
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
GIRLS JUST WANNA DEFUN*
|
|
|
|
I can't wake up, in the morning
|
|
Cause of what I've been doing for most of the night.
|
|
Teacher don't you know my program is done?
|
|
And girls just wanna defun.
|
|
|
|
The phone rings, in the middle of the night
|
|
Advisor screams, "Watcha gonna do with your life?"
|
|
Patrick**, how I relish double-oh-one***!
|
|
And girls just wanna defun.
|
|
|
|
They just wanna, just wanna, yeah
|
|
Girls just wanna defun.
|
|
|
|
Some people say
|
|
A beautiful girl can't tool all night like
|
|
The rest of the world.
|
|
I wanna be the one to welcome the sun.
|
|
And girls just wanna defun.
|
|
|
|
*Defun, the Lisp command to define a procedure
|
|
**Winston, ai professor, MIT
|
|
***6.001, Structure and Interpretation of Computer Programs
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : God Rest Ye CS Students
|
|
Original : God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : WPI in Mass, modified by Charles LaBrec and friends
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
God Rest Ye CS Students
|
|
|
|
|
|
(to the tune of God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen)
|
|
*** author from SFC ***
|
|
from WPI in Mass,???
|
|
modified by Charles LaBrec and friends,
|
|
|
|
|
|
God rest ye CS students now
|
|
Let nothing you dismay,
|
|
The VAX is down and won't be up
|
|
Until the first of May
|
|
The program that was due this morn
|
|
Won't be postponed they say.
|
|
|
|
Chorus:
|
|
Oh, tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy,
|
|
Oh, tidings of comfort and joy!
|
|
|
|
The bearings on the disk are gone,
|
|
And bits are dropping too,
|
|
We've found a bug in C,
|
|
And Pascal can't tell false from true,
|
|
And now we find that we can't get at
|
|
Berkeley's 4.2.
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
And all you fans of matrix math
|
|
Who would use APL,
|
|
You'd find out if the VAX were up,
|
|
It wouldn't work too well,
|
|
And if you try, then it'll say
|
|
That you can go to . . . well . . .
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
We've just received a call from DEC,
|
|
They'll send without delay
|
|
A system they call RSuX
|
|
It takes nine hundred k,
|
|
The staff committed suicide
|
|
We'll bury them today.
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
And now more cheery news for you,
|
|
The network's also dead,
|
|
You'll have to run your programs on
|
|
The IBM instead,
|
|
The turnaround time's nineteen weeks
|
|
And only cards are read.
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
And now we'd like to say to you
|
|
Before we go away,
|
|
We hope the news we've brought to you
|
|
Won't ruin your whole day,
|
|
You've got another program due
|
|
Tomorrow, by the way.
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : God Rest Ye Merry Network Fans
|
|
Original : God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Bob Bradley
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
God Rest Ye Merry Network Fans
|
|
|
|
|
|
(to the tune of God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen)
|
|
by Bob Bradley, from DEC archives
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
God rest ye merry network fans
|
|
Let nothing you dismay
|
|
They just announced DECnet Phase III
|
|
It takes up 80 K!
|
|
It Routes, and Hops and Multidrops
|
|
Your packets on their way.
|
|
|
|
Refrain:
|
|
Oh, bad tidings! congestion and line cost!
|
|
Packets can be lost!!
|
|
Oh, glad tidings, we'll dump it all on HOSS!
|
|
|
|
It started out with old Phase I
|
|
But no one gave a hoot!
|
|
We added stuff; It's called Phase II
|
|
But yet it could not route.
|
|
Phase III came out; it does it all
|
|
It takes two 10's to boot!
|
|
|
|
Refrain:
|
|
Oh bad tidings! congestion and line cost!
|
|
Packets can be lost!!
|
|
Oh, glad tidings, we'll dump it all on HOSS!
|
|
|
|
Their names' the same, you know them all
|
|
There' NICE, NETACP.
|
|
There's new ones too, like RMT
|
|
File Spooler, EVP.
|
|
They've all grown up, they're twice their size
|
|
Have fun installing these!!
|
|
|
|
Refrain:
|
|
Oh, NO! NETGEN can really be a chore!
|
|
Running out of core!
|
|
Oh, Oh! Routing, it really gives you more.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : HACKADU
|
|
Original : Xanadu
|
|
Group : Samuel Taylor Coleridge
|
|
Author : Stuart McLure Cracraft
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
HACKADU
|
|
|
|
In Hackadu did Hackers Few
|
|
An awesome program-hack command:
|
|
Where 20, the sacred system, grew
|
|
Through monitors nobody knew
|
|
Down during the great demand.
|
|
Always twice two months to newer release
|
|
With TTY's and EMACS to bring the peace:
|
|
And here was software smothered by edit-line effects,
|
|
Where many a bureaucrat sauntered across the land,
|
|
And where MSG/TELNET/FTP were ancient as TENEX,
|
|
Constricting winning spots into the bland.
|
|
|
|
But oh! those abiding Hackers Few were cunning
|
|
And lept the heights of unimaginable lossage!
|
|
A savage place; as daemonical and sinning
|
|
as e'er which plastered a screen with "%DECSYSTEM-20 Not Winning"
|
|
B'fore users exchausted from the barfage!
|
|
And from this chaos, with irresistable force,
|
|
As if this thing were itself the Source,
|
|
A mighty idea came glistening to Hackers Fewest
|
|
Amid whose logic the sinning 20 burst
|
|
Huge fragments of scheduler flung forth like rebounding netmail,
|
|
Or chaffy words beneath the BLT's flail:
|
|
And 'mid this stupendous destruction at once and forever
|
|
It flung up the 20 to permanently sever.
|
|
Pages and pages of listings the burning grew
|
|
Through structures and directories in the Coup,
|
|
Then reached the sources known to few,
|
|
And slaughtered in tumult the offending mass:
|
|
And 'mid this tumult Hackers Few heard from afar
|
|
Ancestral systems declaring war!
|
|
|
|
The shadows of the program-hack
|
|
Floated strongly on the net;
|
|
Where was heard the anguished cry of the Sack
|
|
From which they inferred they'd win, they bet.
|
|
A true war of Hackers Few against Timesharing,
|
|
With the ancestors of the 20 battling forth with infinite daring!
|
|
|
|
A 10 with a mighty cpu
|
|
In this battle the Hackers Few espied:
|
|
It was a DEC original that knew,
|
|
That once the Hackers Few irresistibly grew,
|
|
It would forever be banned to limbo.
|
|
Could it wreak havoc upon the Few?
|
|
With its powerful CPU?
|
|
To such a deep satisfaction the answer is no,
|
|
That with a slice of their sword through its board,
|
|
The Hackers Few did clobber its bagbiting cord,
|
|
To realize the Source, the Idea, the Solution!
|
|
And all the users who saw this mighty battle raging,
|
|
And shrieked, Tsk! Tsk!
|
|
While the 10s' and 20s' flashed screens, their crashing disks!
|
|
The Few weaved a carnage about this awful outpouring,
|
|
And closed the 10s' and 20s' eyes,
|
|
For the Hackers Few had earlier fed upon the lies
|
|
And now had drunk the milk of Personal Computing.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Stuart McLure Cracraft
|
|
(with apologies to Samuel Taylor Coleridge)
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The Hackers are Best
|
|
Author : Tony Duell
|
|
Original : A Song of Patriotic Prejudice (The English are Best)
|
|
Group : Flanders and Swann
|
|
Intro : You can replace F-ing with the obvious thing if you want an
|
|
'X-rated' version
|
|
The mention of the headcrash and servo microcode refers roughly
|
|
to a problem with the DEC RA90 disk drive, where updating the
|
|
microcode program on the servo processor could cause HDA problems
|
|
(although not an actual headcrash)
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
The Hackers, the Hackers, the Hackers are Best!
|
|
I wouldn't give tuppence for all of the rest
|
|
|
|
The day-to-day use of this system of ours
|
|
We've left in the hands of three unfriendly powers
|
|
Examine the Serviceman, User, or Op
|
|
You'll find he's a luser with nothing up top.
|
|
|
|
The oper is mean, as we're all well aware
|
|
And if you crash the system, he's sure to go spare
|
|
He deletes our print jobs, he works all the day
|
|
And he hasn't the source code to show him the way
|
|
|
|
The Hackers, the Hackers, the Hackers are best
|
|
I wouldn't give tuppence for all of the rest
|
|
|
|
The serviceman now our contempt is beneath
|
|
He swaps random parts and he strips all the teeth
|
|
He causes headcrashes, or so I have heard
|
|
And blames it on the servo microcode word
|
|
|
|
The Hackers are vocal, the Hackers are nice
|
|
And worth any other at double the price
|
|
|
|
The User writes programs, which crash when they can
|
|
Not assembler code, but unstructured Fortran
|
|
He works all the day with a Mouse in his hand
|
|
And has problems with bitwise binary AND
|
|
|
|
And out on the network, you cannot say much
|
|
For the IBM or DEC, the Sequent or such
|
|
The support is useless, they make us see red
|
|
And they work the hours when we should be in bed
|
|
|
|
The Hackers are moral, the Hackers are good
|
|
And clever, and modest, and misunderstood
|
|
|
|
And all the world over, each system's the same
|
|
They've simply no notion of being insane
|
|
They chose obvious password, they leave when they're done
|
|
And they read the F-ing manual, which ruins the fun
|
|
|
|
The Hackers, the hackers, the hackers are best
|
|
So up with the Hackers and down with the rest
|
|
|
|
It's not that they're wicked or naturally bad
|
|
It's knowing they're lusers that makes us so mad
|
|
|
|
For the Hackers are all that a people should be
|
|
And the flower of the Hackers are <Insert net.god here> and me
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The Hacker Song
|
|
Original : Put Another Nickel In
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Chesire Catalyst
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Put another password in,
|
|
Bomb it out and try again.
|
|
Try to get past logging in,
|
|
We're hacking, hacking, hacking.
|
|
|
|
Try his first wife's maiden name.
|
|
This is more than just a game.
|
|
It's real fun, but just the same,
|
|
It's hacking, hacking, hacking.
|
|
|
|
Sys-call, let's try sys-call.
|
|
Remember, that great bug from version 3,
|
|
Of R S X, It's here! Whoopie!
|
|
|
|
Put another sys-call in,
|
|
Run those passwords out and then,
|
|
Dial back up, we're logging in.
|
|
It's hacking, hacking, hacking!
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The Hacker's Battle Hymn
|
|
Original : The Battle Hymn of the Republic
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Bill Lindemann and David Lilienfeld
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
The Hacker's Battle Hymn
|
|
|
|
(to The Battle Hymn of the Republic)
|
|
by Bill Lindemann and David Lilienfeld
|
|
|
|
|
|
He logged on the eleven,
|
|
And his name was "JAB."
|
|
The monitor went crazy
|
|
On this blighted PDP.
|
|
Oh, it never knew what hit it,
|
|
Just a hack from DDT.
|
|
The Hacker's just logged in.
|
|
|
|
Chorus:
|
|
Woe be it to the system,
|
|
Woe be it to the system,
|
|
Woe be it to the system,
|
|
The Hacker's just logged in.
|
|
|
|
The Hacker went a-working
|
|
All the way into SYSTAT.
|
|
He made so many options,
|
|
That it made DEC flip its hat.
|
|
The op'rator was dazzled
|
|
For his Hazeltine went ZAP!!
|
|
The Hacker's just logged in.
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
He started in the summer
|
|
Of 1970.
|
|
"For me, I'll find a free account,"
|
|
Thus sayeth JAB;
|
|
Fin'lly moving up to
|
|
Gunning everybody's tree,
|
|
The Hacker's just logged in.
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The Hacker's Son
|
|
Original : The Lumberjack's Song
|
|
Group : Monty Python
|
|
Author : Dave Touretzky and Don Libes
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Hacker's Song
|
|
by Dave Touretzky and Don Libes
|
|
(with no apologies whatsoever to Monty Python)
|
|
|
|
I'm a hacker and I'm okay.
|
|
I work all night and I sleep all day.
|
|
|
|
I wrote some hacks in APL,
|
|
each on a single line.
|
|
They're mutually recursive,
|
|
and run in n-squared time!
|
|
|
|
(chorus:)
|
|
Oh, he's a hacker and he's okay.
|
|
He works all night and he sleeps all day.
|
|
I'm a hacker and I'm okay.
|
|
I work all night and I sleep all day.
|
|
|
|
I wrote two hacks in MACRO,
|
|
with UUOs galore.
|
|
One plays Nim on the console lights,
|
|
while the other zeros core!
|
|
|
|
(chorus)
|
|
|
|
I wrote a hack in Snobol,
|
|
with FORTRAN subroutines,
|
|
It spits out trashy stories,
|
|
for ladies' magazines!
|
|
|
|
(chorus)
|
|
|
|
I wrote some hacks in InterLisp,
|
|
they barely fit in core.
|
|
The swapper thrashed its guts out,
|
|
So now it runs no more.
|
|
|
|
(chorus)
|
|
|
|
I wrote a hack in microcode,
|
|
with a goto on each line,
|
|
it runs as fast as Superman,
|
|
but not quite every time!
|
|
|
|
(chorus)
|
|
|
|
I wrote some hacks in Ada,
|
|
and still can't run them yet,
|
|
Do you suppose we'll see that day?
|
|
On it, I wouldn't bet!
|
|
|
|
(chorus)
|
|
|
|
I wrote a hack for UNIX
|
|
While it was still in vogue.
|
|
It knows the tricks to pacman,
|
|
and plays mean games of rogue!
|
|
|
|
(chorus)
|
|
|
|
I wrote some hacks, distributed,
|
|
across our neat gateway.
|
|
Each one of its 10 functions
|
|
kills RIG in a different way!
|
|
|
|
(chorus)
|
|
|
|
I wrote some hacks in Mlisp,
|
|
to edit files of root.
|
|
It writes them back no-execute,
|
|
And now it won't reboot!
|
|
|
|
(chorus)
|
|
|
|
I wrote some hacks to manage jobs
|
|
with PLITS and IPC.
|
|
Its very first activity,
|
|
was firing the faculty!
|
|
|
|
(chorus)
|
|
|
|
I wrote some hacks with P and V
|
|
to synchronize my life.
|
|
Now I can't use the bathroom,
|
|
I'm deadlocked with my wife!
|
|
|
|
(chorus)
|
|
|
|
I wrote a hack (in theory),
|
|
it may not ever halt.
|
|
But if it does, just watch out...
|
|
[Fatal Error: Infinite Page Fault]
|
|
|
|
(chorus)
|
|
|
|
I wrote a hack with hough transforms
|
|
for our folks at DoD.
|
|
It'll guide their fancy missiles,
|
|
to Washington, D.C.
|
|
|
|
I'm a hacker and I'm okay,
|
|
I work all night and I sleep all day.
|
|
I'll have a system of my own someday,
|
|
that'll run my code in a hacked-up way.
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Hacking Iron
|
|
Author : Tony Duell
|
|
Original : Sounding Brass
|
|
Group : Flanders and Swann
|
|
Intro : I don't actually approve of crashing systems on the net....
|
|
Tektronix and Fluke are manufacturers of electronic test
|
|
equipment, including protocol/network analysers
|
|
You can replace 'Cambridge' with 'Token' if you prefer
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Society frowns on blowing one's own trumpet
|
|
But we've found a game that merits no rebuke
|
|
If that's the password file we're going to dump it
|
|
It's more fun with a Tektronix or a Fluke
|
|
The object is to login as your neighbour
|
|
"I've got system privs" is the acid test
|
|
So flip the sense switch one up
|
|
And watch those DECpacks run up
|
|
And hack our mainframe systems with the best
|
|
|
|
Looking round the worldwide network
|
|
Searching through the system cache
|
|
Bigger, faster, newer, smarter
|
|
See the networked systems crash
|
|
|
|
My dial-in port's ex-directory should you wish to make a call
|
|
Mine is even more exclusive (More exclusive?)
|
|
I won't have dial-in at all
|
|
(spoken)
|
|
You can always e-mail me - net.god@uk
|
|
|
|
(lines now alternated)
|
|
I've a packet radio network, though it can't receive a thing
|
|
I've my own direct connection, straight into the Cambridge Ring
|
|
I've a disk pack, arrives daily, with the next software update
|
|
All my software comes via IR (via what??)
|
|
To my H - P - forty - eight
|
|
I believe my home computer runs full Unix system five
|
|
I lost 20 gigs of software when I crashed my hard disk drive
|
|
I've been asked to build a handheld, complete with network IO
|
|
I've been asked to rebuild Unix - for security you know
|
|
My local network login site runs R S X version 3
|
|
All my net backdoors fly open when I enter 'Sesame'
|
|
Your task privs are 'user, user', My task privs are 'root, root, root'
|
|
I've just bought an net monitor (Bought a what?)
|
|
(An net monitor) Oh yes, I run one when I boot
|
|
|
|
Looking round the worldwide network
|
|
Searching through the system cache
|
|
Bigger, faster, newer, smarter
|
|
See the networked systems crash
|
|
|
|
DEC has just been taken over, we got in without a pause
|
|
We've acquired an Alpha system, bigger, faster, far than your's
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The HACTRN
|
|
Original : The Raven
|
|
Group : Edgar Allan Poe
|
|
Author : Guy L. Steele Jr.
|
|
Intro : [a bit longish - sth]
|
|
Notes for those not familar with the terms in this poem:
|
|
|
|
TTY ("titty") = any terminal, not necessarily a teletype (in this case,
|
|
a CRT); in particular, a terminal associated with and in control
|
|
of a job tree (see "DDT" below). The terminal may be passed up
|
|
and down the job tree; at any point in time only one job in the
|
|
tree may use the tree's TTY. When ^Z is typed on the TTY, the
|
|
system intervenes, stopping the job which has the TTY, and
|
|
interrupts that job's superior in the tree, which may then grab
|
|
the TTY from the inferior job.
|
|
|
|
DDT ("dee dee tee") = HACTRN ("hack-tran") = top level debugging and job
|
|
controlling procedure, capable of controlling up to eight
|
|
simultaneous jobs (which may themselves be DDTs!) and performing
|
|
other miscellaneous functions. HACTRN specifically denotes a
|
|
DDT at the top of a job tree, while DDT is the more general
|
|
term. The two terms refer to the same job in the poem, and are
|
|
thus treated as synonymous. Note that DDT requires its subjobs
|
|
to have unique names for obvious reasons; hence the concern
|
|
over seven jobs all named FOO.
|
|
|
|
PEEK = a program similar to the SYSTAT of certain PDP-10 monitor systems
|
|
of dubious quality. PEEK is actually much more versatile, giving
|
|
information in any of some dozen modes, such a job status,
|
|
DECtape status, Arpanet sockets, terminal status, and scheduler
|
|
variables and statistics. It also has provisions for
|
|
maintaining a continuously updated display on a CRT, and for
|
|
line printer usage.
|
|
|
|
TECO ("teeko") = text editor and corrector (that is, the good version of
|
|
several versions of TECO which are floating around).
|
|
|
|
:KILL ("colon kill") = message typed out by DDT whenever it kills a
|
|
subjob. Note that subjobs, if running, may request DDT to kill
|
|
themselves. If the job does not have the TTY when it makes such
|
|
a request, DDT merely rings the TTY's bell (which on the CRT in
|
|
the poem above is a particularly obnoxious flavor of "beep"),
|
|
and prints nothing until you ascend to DDT, and perhaps type <esc>J
|
|
(see below).
|
|
|
|
LOCK = utility program, which interprets the particular command "nKILL"
|
|
to mean "please bring the time-sharing system down in n minutes"
|
|
(where it is required that n5). The system will then go down
|
|
at the prescribed time unless the request is countermanded with
|
|
a "REVIVE" request.
|
|
|
|
ITS = Incompatible Timesharing System, the good timesharing system for
|
|
the PDP-10.
|
|
|
|
DSKDMP ("disk dump") = program used to, among other things, bootstrap
|
|
ITS into a running state.
|
|
|
|
<esc> = "altmode"; read it as such to preserve the meter.
|
|
|
|
<esc><esc>V = command to DDT, requesting it to print out the names of all its
|
|
subjobs.
|
|
|
|
<esc>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.
|
|
|
|
<esc>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 --
|
|
<esc><esc>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
|
|
<esc><esc>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, <esc>J to quickly type --
|
|
To answer this bold query DDT did hesitantly type
|
|
A ghostly "FOOBARJ".
|
|
|
|
From <esc><esc>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 "FOOBAR<esc>J" 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 --
|
|
<esc><esc>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 : Hark! the Screaming Students Cry
|
|
Original : Hark! The Herald Angels Sing)
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : J. Benson, J. Doll & S. Fraim
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Hark! the Screaming Students Cry
|
|
|
|
(to the tune of Hark! The Herald Angels Sing)
|
|
by J. Benson, J. Doll & S. Fraim
|
|
|
|
Hark! the screaming students cry,
|
|
"I am failing, why, oh, why?"
|
|
Boy, this class makes me feel dumb!
|
|
Where DO they get graders from?
|
|
How I study, how I strive,
|
|
Just to get a five point five!
|
|
Now my program won't compile,
|
|
I used REPEAT instead of WHILE."
|
|
Hark! the screaming students cry,
|
|
"I am failing, why, oh why!"
|
|
|
|
|
|
Hark! the screaming students say,
|
|
"Lord, just get me through this day!
|
|
Watch me gnash my teeth and frown
|
|
When I learn the DEC is down.
|
|
Tests and quizzes make me ill;
|
|
Of Pascal I've had my fill!
|
|
One point off for elegance,
|
|
Why won't they give me a chance!"
|
|
Hark! the screaming students say,
|
|
"Lord, just get me through this day!"
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Has Anybody Seen My Code?
|
|
Original : Has Anybody Seen my Gal?
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Brad Needham
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Has Anybody Seen My Code?
|
|
|
|
(to the tune of Has Anybody Seen my Gal?)
|
|
by Brad Needham
|
|
|
|
|
|
No GOTO's, all WHILE-DO's
|
|
Bringing on the software blues
|
|
Has anybody seen my code?
|
|
|
|
With bubble charts, structure charts,
|
|
Steeped in engineering arts
|
|
Has anybody seen my code?
|
|
|
|
Now when it runs into the breakpoint two
|
|
from who knows where
|
|
I try to place the real-time trace.
|
|
Bet your life it isn't there!
|
|
|
|
But is it fast! Will it last?
|
|
All milestones are in the past!
|
|
Has anybody seen my code?
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Hello, my ASCII gal
|
|
Original : ?Hello, my ragtime gal
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Thomas Arneberg <toma@romulus.cray.com>
|
|
Intro : Okay, as long as we're on the subject of other parodies,
|
|
I'll post one I started a while back. I gave up before
|
|
really finishing, when our tenor claimed that the vast
|
|
majority of non-computer types wouldn't "get" it, and
|
|
proved it by handing it around his office and noting the
|
|
blank stares.
|
|
But here it is, for you computer folks:
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Hello, my baby,
|
|
hello, my HACKER,
|
|
hello, my ASCII gal
|
|
|
|
Send me a kiss by MAIL (BY EMAIL),
|
|
baby I hope you're FEMALE. <-- this is the best line...you
|
|
never really know with email!
|
|
If you refuse me,
|
|
honey, you'll lose me,
|
|
then you'll be left alone.
|
|
|
|
Oh, baby, email me,
|
|
and tell me that ...
|
|
|
|
I've got a little baby
|
|
and she's out of sight,
|
|
I TYPE to her across the INTERNET (no sweat).
|
|
I've never seen my baby,
|
|
but she types alright,
|
|
And CompuServe is causing quite a debt.
|
|
so...
|
|
|
|
Hello, my baby,
|
|
hello, my honey,
|
|
hello, my sys-admin,
|
|
|
|
Send me a kiss by MAIL,
|
|
Don't let our modems fail.
|
|
|
|
If you refuse me,
|
|
honey, you'll lose me,
|
|
then you'll be left alone.
|
|
|
|
Oh, baby, CYBERSPACE
|
|
can be a lonely place...
|
|
|
|
Hello, hello, hello there,
|
|
tell me that you're mine,
|
|
buzz my modem line.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Hello, Solly
|
|
Original : Hello, Dolly
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Sarah Elizabeth Miller
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Hello, Solly
|
|
|
|
(to Hello, Dolly)
|
|
by Sarah Elizabeth Miller
|
|
|
|
|
|
Hello, Solly.
|
|
Well, hello, Solly.
|
|
The DEC-10 just threw the monitor away.
|
|
The tty's, Solly,
|
|
Went bye-bye, Solly,
|
|
And the core's been on the floor
|
|
Most of the last few days.
|
|
What's even worse, Solly,
|
|
We've been cursed, Solly,
|
|
With a memory that is down to just one k.
|
|
Oh, boohoohoo, Solly,
|
|
What are we s'posed to do, Solly?
|
|
Solly, please bring the DEC-10 up to stay!!!
|
|
|
|
The users are, Solly,
|
|
Quite bizarre, Solly.
|
|
They all claim the ten is dormant all the time.
|
|
They should know, Solly,
|
|
Things get slow, Solly,
|
|
'Cause the drives cannot survive
|
|
Two users on the line.
|
|
We have no hopes, Solly,
|
|
For the scopes, Solly,
|
|
And because of this they all refuse to pay.
|
|
Oh, gollygee, Solly,
|
|
What is it gonna be, Solly?
|
|
Solly, please bring the DEC-10 up to stay!!!
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
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'd Like to Buy Magnetic Tape
|
|
Original : I'd Like to Teach the World to Sing
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : ?
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
I'd Like to Buy Magnetic Tape
|
|
|
|
(to I'd Like to Teach the World to Sing)
|
|
Author Unknown
|
|
|
|
I'd like to buy magnetic tape
|
|
To store my data on.
|
|
I'd like to know how much to store
|
|
Before the room's all gone.
|
|
|
|
I know that tapes have density
|
|
To measure bits per inch
|
|
And forty million characters
|
|
Can be stored in a pinch.
|
|
|
|
But what else do I need to know
|
|
About this half-inch tape?
|
|
Like speeds and lengths and code and such
|
|
And how much is the freight?
|
|
|
|
That's the way it is.
|
|
I just need to know more.
|
|
So just tell me the score.
|
|
That's the way it is.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : I'm a PDP-10 Wizard
|
|
Original : I'm a Yankee Doodle Dandy
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : SG, from DEC archives
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
I'm a PDP-10 Wizard
|
|
|
|
|
|
(to the tune of I'm a Yankee Doodle Dandy)
|
|
by SG, from DEC archives
|
|
|
|
|
|
I'm a PDP-10 wizard,
|
|
Everybody knows that I'm
|
|
A real live offspring of the system-10,
|
|
Born right around MONGEN time.
|
|
|
|
Got a brand-new VT50,
|
|
Tied in with my own KL.
|
|
Ain't it great?
|
|
I salivate
|
|
Each time I ring the bell!
|
|
|
|
Oh, I am the hack of the system-10.
|
|
|
|
|
|
I spend all the week debugging,
|
|
QA everything and then...
|
|
Show up on weekends with my sleeping bag,
|
|
To camp out in that new KL10.
|
|
|
|
How I love to crash the system,
|
|
Dump it, patch it, and reload!
|
|
DEC once gave me
|
|
two months off,
|
|
So they could freeze the code.
|
|
|
|
Oh, I am the hack of system-10.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : I'm a Programmer
|
|
Original : The Lumberjack Song
|
|
Group : Monty Python
|
|
Author : Thaddeus Beier, Robert Frye, Robert Herndon,
|
|
William Lindemann, Sarah Elizabeth Miller, and Michael John
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
I'm a Programmer
|
|
|
|
(to The Lumberjack Song By Monty Python)
|
|
by Thaddeus Beier, Robert Frye, Robert Herndon,
|
|
William Lindemann, Sarah Elizabeth Miller, and Michael John
|
|
|
|
|
|
Chorus:
|
|
|
|
I'm a programmer and I'm insane.
|
|
I work all night and I hack all day.
|
|
|
|
I patch up bugs. I write in C
|
|
On the EE's PDP.
|
|
On Wednesdays I do COBOL
|
|
And structured RPG. (Arrgh!)
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
I edit files. I rewind tapes.
|
|
I dismount RK packs.
|
|
I exercise the disk drives
|
|
And kick off all the hacks.
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
I punch mag tape. I bug Jon Day
|
|
And insult VDV,
|
|
And if I keep this all up,
|
|
I'll leave the PDP.
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
I play seawar. I crash the disks
|
|
And anger Dr. Gore.
|
|
And sometimes I do programs
|
|
For Elizier Naddor.
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
I copy disks. I dump to tape.
|
|
I execute Sys calls.
|
|
And when the system crashes,
|
|
I run screaming down the halls.
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
On Friday night when it is late,
|
|
It loves me best, you know.
|
|
I stay with the Eleven,
|
|
And don't go to the shows.
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
When terminals stop working,
|
|
I stalk out of the door.
|
|
On Mondays we do PM
|
|
And process nevermore.
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : I'm Typing Backwards for Christmas
|
|
Original : I'm walking Backwards for Christmas
|
|
Group : Spike Milligan and another
|
|
Author : Russell Street <russells@ccu1.aukuni.ac.nz>
|
|
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.
|
|
|
|
<eerily>
|
|
|
|
I'm typing backwards for Christmas,
|
|
Across the TCP/IP.
|
|
I'm typing backwards for Christmas,
|
|
It's the finest thing for me.
|
|
|
|
<normal>
|
|
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.
|
|
|
|
<play out>
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : In the Shade of the Old Apple Tree
|
|
Original : In the Shade of the Old Apple Tree
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Tim Cheney <tcheney@mcneil.sas.upenn.edu>
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
In the Shade of the Old Apple Tree parody
|
|
|
|
Chorus:
|
|
In the days of the Apple IIe
|
|
Sixty-four K was plenty for me.
|
|
I knew nothing of MIPS as I twiddled those bits,
|
|
it was modular coding, you see.
|
|
|
|
Now we're all using graphical stuff,
|
|
Sixty-four K just isn't enough.
|
|
So I've out-lived the lives of my old floppy drives,
|
|
And have dust on my Apple IIe.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : I/O
|
|
Original : Hi Ho
|
|
Group : The Dwarves :-)
|
|
Author : Clayton Elwell, J. Benson & J. Doll
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
I/O
|
|
|
|
|
|
(designed by a committee including the
|
|
editor, Clayton Elwell, J. Benson & J. Doll
|
|
with verses stolen from Songs from the CPU)
|
|
|
|
I/O, I/O,
|
|
We watch the data flow,
|
|
We never know
|
|
Where it will go,
|
|
I/O, I/O, I/O,
|
|
|
|
I/O, I/O,
|
|
To IBM we go.
|
|
Command reject
|
|
and then recheck,
|
|
I/O, I/O, I/O,
|
|
|
|
I/O, I/O,
|
|
This teletype's too slow.
|
|
If you need more speed
|
|
Get a CRT.
|
|
I/O, I/O, I/O,
|
|
|
|
I/O, I/O,
|
|
It's fun to hack, you know.
|
|
It's nice to be
|
|
Under DDT.
|
|
I/O, I/O, I/O,
|
|
|
|
I/O, I/O,
|
|
It's off the bus we go.
|
|
No better place
|
|
than an interface,
|
|
I/O, I/O, I/O,
|
|
|
|
I/O, I/O,
|
|
To hack the VAX we go.
|
|
We'll first dump core,
|
|
And then run more,
|
|
I/O, I/O, I/O,
|
|
|
|
I/O, I/O,
|
|
To hack the VAX we go.
|
|
We use EMACS,
|
|
Since we're true hacks,
|
|
I/O, I/O, I/O,
|
|
|
|
I/O, I/O,
|
|
To hack the VAX we go.
|
|
We run cc,
|
|
Then adb,
|
|
I/O, I/O, I/O,
|
|
|
|
I/O, I/O,
|
|
To hack the VAX we go.
|
|
We eat our lunch,
|
|
As programs munch,
|
|
I/O, I/O, I/O,
|
|
|
|
I/O, I/O,
|
|
To hack the VAX we go.
|
|
Programs we try,
|
|
then run vi,
|
|
I/O, I/O, I/O,
|
|
|
|
I/O, I/O,
|
|
To hack the VAX we go.
|
|
Lets adb
|
|
uucp,
|
|
I/O, I/O, I/O,
|
|
|
|
I/O, I/O,
|
|
To hack the VAX we go.
|
|
We'll patch the stack,
|
|
And then jump back,
|
|
I/O, I/O, I/O,
|
|
|
|
I/O, I/O,
|
|
To hack the VAX we go.
|
|
We'll have a Coke,
|
|
And trap alloc(),
|
|
I/O, I/O, I/O,
|
|
|
|
I/O, I/O,
|
|
To hack the VAX we go.
|
|
We'll user-load
|
|
New microcode,
|
|
I/O, I/O, I/O,
|
|
|
|
I/O, I/O,
|
|
To hack the VAX we go.
|
|
This code's a kludge,
|
|
Its much too huge,
|
|
I/O, I/O, I/O,
|
|
|
|
I/O, I/O,
|
|
To hack the VAX we go.
|
|
Kill peon's procs
|
|
They're eating ops
|
|
I/O, I/O, I/O,
|
|
|
|
I/O, I/O, I/O,
|
|
To hack the VAX we go,
|
|
I/O, I/O!
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : I've Been Working on a Kernel
|
|
Original : I've Been Working on the Railroad
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : J. Benson & J. Doll
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
I've Been Working on a Kernel
|
|
|
|
(to the tune of I've Been Working on the Railroad)
|
|
by J. Benson & J. Doll
|
|
|
|
I've been working on a kernel
|
|
All the livelong night.
|
|
I've been working on a kernel
|
|
And it still won't work quite right.
|
|
All the queues are always empty
|
|
All the pointers nil,
|
|
All I get are run-time errors
|
|
Buffers that won't fill.
|
|
|
|
Buffers that won't fill,
|
|
Buffers that won't fill,
|
|
Buffers that won't fill at all, at all!
|
|
Buffers that won't fill,
|
|
Buffers that won't fill,
|
|
Buffers that won't fill at all!
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : I Want a New Bug
|
|
Original : I Want a New Drug
|
|
Group : Huey Lewis and the News
|
|
Author : Nelson Bishop <nelson@natinst.com>
|
|
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 want an RT
|
|
Original : I want a new Drug
|
|
Group : Huey Lewis and the News
|
|
Author : EllioTT Schiff <jeopardy+@.cmu.edu>
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
I want an RT One that won't make that "click"
|
|
One that won't try to crash my files or (make me feel 3 feet thick)
|
|
|
|
I want an RT One that won't (hurt my head)
|
|
(One that won't make my mouth turn dry) (or make my eyes turn red)
|
|
|
|
One that won't zap my windows when I don't want it to
|
|
One that runs the BSD of UNIX 4.2
|
|
UNIX 4.2
|
|
|
|
I want an RT One that will boot
|
|
One that won't smoke too much or rm the root
|
|
|
|
I want an RT One with an FPA
|
|
One that won't "segmentation fault"
|
|
One that won't fall asleep all day.
|
|
|
|
One that won't zap my windows when I don't want it to
|
|
One that runs the BSD of UNIX 4.2
|
|
UNIX 4.2
|
|
|
|
UNIX 4.2, UNIX 4.2 (TM)
|
|
|
|
I want an RT One that does what it should
|
|
One that won't make the network lag One that won't make (me feel too good)
|
|
|
|
I want an RT One (with no doubt)
|
|
(One that won't make me talk too much) (or make my face break out)
|
|
|
|
One that won't zap my windows when I don't want it to
|
|
One that runs the BSD of UNIX 4.2
|
|
UNIX 4.2
|
|
UNIX 4.2, yeah, yeah
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
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 <rainwalker@drycas>
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Into the Tube
|
|
=============
|
|
by Mike Portuesi <rainwalker@drycas>
|
|
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 : Jargontalk
|
|
Original : Jabberwock
|
|
Group : Lewis Carroll
|
|
Author : Larry Colen
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Jargontalk, by Larry Colen
|
|
with apologies to Lewis Carroll
|
|
|
|
Twas unix and the C++
|
|
Did compile and load upon the vax:
|
|
All Ritchie was the Kernighan,
|
|
And Lisp ran in GNU EMACS
|
|
|
|
Beware the Jargontalk my son.
|
|
The mac that talks, the dull PC
|
|
Beware the Amiga, and shun
|
|
the voluminous PDP
|
|
|
|
He took his listed code in hand:
|
|
Long time the pointer bug he sought-
|
|
So rested he by the coke machine,
|
|
and stood a while in thought.
|
|
|
|
And as in nerdish thought he stood,
|
|
the Jargontalk, with awk and grep,
|
|
Came geeking through the Cobol wood,
|
|
and edlin as it schlepped.
|
|
|
|
One two! One two! and through and through
|
|
the line printer went clickity clack!
|
|
And with a meg of memory dump
|
|
He pulled an allnight hack.
|
|
|
|
And hast thou slain the Jargontalk?
|
|
telnet to me, my nerdish boy!
|
|
Copyleft Gnu! Callooh! Callay!
|
|
He deroffed in his joy.
|
|
|
|
Twas unix and the C++
|
|
Did compile and load upon the vax:
|
|
All Ritchie was the Kernighan,
|
|
And Lisp ran in GNU EMACS
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
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 <ard@siva.bris.ac.uk>
|
|
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 : Kludging My Software
|
|
Original : Killing Me Softly
|
|
Group : Roberta Flack
|
|
Author : Brad Needham
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Kludging My Software
|
|
|
|
|
|
(to the tune of Killing Me Softly)
|
|
by Brad Needham
|
|
|
|
|
|
I heard he'd written good code in top-down structured
|
|
style
|
|
and so I thought I'd hire him to fill in for a while.
|
|
And there he was, this young boy, a stranger to my
|
|
eyes...
|
|
|
|
Chorus:
|
|
Fixing Pascal with machine code
|
|
Patching my bytes with his words
|
|
Kludging my software with his code
|
|
Kludging my software with his code
|
|
Writing my comments in his words
|
|
Kludging my software with his code.
|
|
|
|
I felt all flushed with fever. How could he be so
|
|
proud?
|
|
He found my documents and read each one out loud!
|
|
I prayed that he would finish, but he just kept right
|
|
on...
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
He took my finished modules, perfect beyond compare
|
|
and then he tore right through them as if I wasn't
|
|
there.
|
|
And he just kept on writing, patching left and right...
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
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 <nelson@natinst.com>
|
|
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 Boxes
|
|
Original : Little Boxes
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Brad Needham
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
Little Boxes
|
|
|
|
|
|
(to the tune by the same name)
|
|
by Brad Needham
|
|
|
|
|
|
Little boxes on the benchside
|
|
Little boxes made of ticky-tacky
|
|
Little boxes on the benchside
|
|
Little boxes, all the same.
|
|
There's a blue one
|
|
And a tan one
|
|
And a grey one
|
|
And a pebble one.
|
|
And they're all made out of ticky-tacky
|
|
And they all look just the same.
|
|
|
|
First the schedules for the boxes
|
|
Are determined by indeterminants
|
|
Then they're put in little boxes
|
|
Tiny boxes, all the same.
|
|
Well, this slips some
|
|
|
|
And that slides some
|
|
Still determined by indeterminants
|
|
But they're put in little boxes
|
|
And they all turn out the same.
|
|
|
|
Then the hardware and the software
|
|
Are pressed tight into the schedules
|
|
Where they buckle
|
|
And they rupture
|
|
And they turn a bit insane.
|
|
Here's a flip-flop
|
|
There's a byte swap
|
|
But you can't find the overall design
|
|
Cause it's put in little boxes
|
|
Dusty boxes, all the same.
|
|
|
|
Then we show all of the boxes
|
|
To the people outside the company
|
|
And they buy those little boxes
|
|
Cause they all have a special name.
|
|
There's a blue one
|
|
And a tan one
|
|
And a grey one
|
|
And a pebble one
|
|
And they're all made out of ticky-tacky
|
|
Silly boxes, all the same.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Little PC
|
|
Original : Little Deuce Coupe
|
|
Group : The Beach Boys
|
|
Author : Nelson Bishop <nelson@natinst.com>
|
|
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 : LOGIN Song
|
|
Original : Hello Dolly)
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : SG & PMW, from DEC archives
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
LOGIN Song
|
|
|
|
|
|
(to the tune of Hello Dolly)
|
|
by SG & PMW, from DEC archives
|
|
|
|
|
|
Hello, LOGIN; well, hello LOGIN!
|
|
Here's my user name and here's my password too.
|
|
Each time that you ask it,
|
|
I know that you'll mask it,
|
|
So no spy from IBM can see it too (if so we'll sue).
|
|
|
|
I hear the bell ringing,
|
|
and the tapes singing,
|
|
so I know you're reading in ACCOUNT dot SYS.
|
|
|
|
So . . .
|
|
|
|
Answer me, LOGIN, find me a UFD, LOGIN
|
|
LOGIN, I'll never K slash F again!
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
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 Longest Path
|
|
Original : The longest Time
|
|
Group : Billy Joel
|
|
Author : ?
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
THE LONGEST PATH
|
|
|
|
Woh, oh-oh-oh
|
|
Find the Longest Path
|
|
Woh oh-oh
|
|
Find the Longest Path
|
|
|
|
If you said P is NP tonight
|
|
There would still be papers left to write
|
|
I have a weakness
|
|
I'm addicted to completeness
|
|
And I keep searching for the longest Path
|
|
|
|
The algorithm I would like to see
|
|
Is of Polynoimal Degree
|
|
Buts its elusive,
|
|
Nobody has found conclusive
|
|
Evidence that we can find the Longest Path
|
|
|
|
I have been hard
|
|
Working for so long
|
|
I swear its right,
|
|
But he marks it wrong
|
|
Somehow I'll feel sorry when its done
|
|
GPA 2.1,
|
|
Is more than I hoped for
|
|
|
|
Garey, Johnson, Karp and other Men (and Women)
|
|
Try to make it Order n log n.
|
|
Am I a math fool
|
|
If I spend my life in Grad School
|
|
Forever following the Longest Path.
|
|
|
|
Woh oh-oh-oh
|
|
Find the longest path
|
|
Woh oh-oh-oh
|
|
Find the longest path
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Losing my Connection
|
|
Original : Losing my Religion
|
|
Group : REM
|
|
Author : Daniel Bowen <dbowen@vcomtelc.telecom.com.au>
|
|
Intro : (from the Toxic Custard Workshop Files - tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu)
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Losing my Connection
|
|
|
|
|
|
Oh disk, is smaller
|
|
Smaller than you and you are not me
|
|
The backups I will go to
|
|
The distance between tapes
|
|
|
|
Oh no I've filled the disk
|
|
I filled it up
|
|
|
|
That's me in the system
|
|
That's me at the login
|
|
Losing my connection
|
|
Trying to stay logged in
|
|
|
|
And I don't know if I can do it
|
|
Oh no I've grepped too much
|
|
Couldn't grep enough
|
|
|
|
I thought that I heard deleting
|
|
I thought that I heard you say
|
|
I think I thought the files were safe
|
|
|
|
Every print-out of every waking hour
|
|
I'm dumping all my data
|
|
Trying to keep my files on you
|
|
Like a hurt lost and blinded LAN... LAN
|
|
Oh no I saved too much
|
|
I saved it all
|
|
|
|
Consider this
|
|
Consider this bug of the century
|
|
Consider this the bug
|
|
That brought DOS to its knees
|
|
|
|
What if all these data dumps come spewing out
|
|
And now I've printed too much
|
|
|
|
I thought that I heard you printing
|
|
I thought that I heard you swear
|
|
I think I thought I saw you print
|
|
|
|
That was just a ream
|
|
That was just a ream
|
|
|
|
That's me at the printer
|
|
That's me in the print queue
|
|
Losing all my source code
|
|
Trying to keep coding
|
|
|
|
And I don't know if I can do it
|
|
Oh no I've saved too much
|
|
I haven't saved enough
|
|
|
|
I thought that I heard you PRUNEing
|
|
I thought that I saw me save
|
|
I think I thought I saw the files
|
|
|
|
But that was just a dream
|
|
File, line, byte, die
|
|
That was just a dream
|
|
Just a dream, dream
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Kitty of North Tempe
|
|
Original : City of New Orleans
|
|
Group : Arlo Guthrie
|
|
Author : Scott Malcomson <Scott.Malcomson@f110.n114.z1.fidonet.org>
|
|
Intro : After having seen all these verses of "Passengers Will
|
|
Please Refrain", which scans very well to "City of New Orleans",
|
|
I decided to do a filk of "CNO" in honor of Kitty, the Sysop of
|
|
Kitty's Sandbox in the northern part of Tempe.
|
|
That's in the Land of Az, for you non-natives. She runs the best
|
|
board in the state, IMNSHO!
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
"Kitty of North Tempe" (to the tune of Arlo Guthrie's "City of New Orleans")
|
|
(c) 1992, Scott Malcomson
|
|
|
|
Ridin' on the phone lines out in 'Zonie
|
|
Maricopa County, northern Tempe trail
|
|
Fido netfeed, fifty restless users
|
|
One sysop
|
|
Twenty-five packets of mail.
|
|
|
|
All across the Southwest network feed
|
|
The board pulls data for all to see
|
|
That reappears upon your CRT
|
|
|
|
Users who never use their names
|
|
Crackin' puns that know no shame
|
|
An' the sales ads for the rusted IBM clones.
|
|
|
|
Good Mornin', FidoNet, how are ya?
|
|
Say, doncha know me, I'm just havin' fun
|
|
I'm the Sysop they call "Kitty of North Tempe"
|
|
I'll upload some mail here before I'm done!
|
|
|
|
Playin' referee for the old men in the flamewar
|
|
Nigglin' points, and everyone's keepin' score
|
|
They pass some rumors off in lieu of knowledge
|
|
Nothin's solved, but brownie points count for more!
|
|
|
|
And the beasts of Furry Fandom
|
|
And the Trekkies with Spock ears
|
|
Ride Kitty's magic carpet
|
|
On their phone
|
|
|
|
Users falling half-asleep
|
|
Fingers tapping to the beat
|
|
Of the cathode-ray tube's
|
|
Faint methodical drone.
|
|
|
|
Good Mornin', FidoNet, how are ya?
|
|
Say, doncha know me, I'm just havin' fun
|
|
I'm the Sysop they call "Kitty of North Tempe"
|
|
I'll upload another .GIF before I'm done!
|
|
|
|
Nighttime comes to Kitty's Sandbox early
|
|
Logging on to Stormgate in L.A.
|
|
If I'm lucky, I'll be done by mornin'
|
|
Meet the rising sun hunched over a CRT.
|
|
|
|
And all the aliases people use
|
|
Seem mainly intended to confuse
|
|
We poor Sysops who always must contend
|
|
|
|
With phone bills and electric costs
|
|
Important mail that just gets lost
|
|
And fanac that are going 'round the bend!
|
|
|
|
Good Night, FidoNet, how are ya?
|
|
Say, doncha know me, I'm just havin' fun
|
|
I'm the Sysop they call "Kitty of North Tempe"
|
|
I'll download a thousand files before I'm done!
|
|
|
|
|
|
This is done in rather tongue-in-cheek honor of Kitty, who keeps Arizona
|
|
FurFandom linked up with the rest of you nice folx, often at peril of personal
|
|
life and limb! Well, maybe not limb... :)
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Magtapes Roasting
|
|
Original : Chestnuts Roasting
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Albert Corda, Richard Holmes & David Kinder
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
Magtapes Roasting
|
|
|
|
(to Chestnuts Roasting)
|
|
by Albert Corda, Richard Holmes & David Kinder
|
|
|
|
|
|
Magtapes roasting on an open fire.
|
|
DECtapes lying on the floor.
|
|
All nasty files being thrown on a pyre.
|
|
And ops.sav's around no more.
|
|
|
|
Everybody knew a tape search would be drawing near,
|
|
Tried to get their tapes from W.A.C.C.C.
|
|
But big EGP, with a smile ear to ear,
|
|
Refused to give the DECtapes back.
|
|
|
|
They knew that doom was on its way.
|
|
They're losing "test" and other goodies on this day.
|
|
And every UFD that isn't nice
|
|
Will be deleted once...or maybe even twice.
|
|
|
|
So we're offering this simple song
|
|
To all kids who like to hack.
|
|
Only do what's right...don't get caught doing wrong.
|
|
Merry Christmas from W.A.C.C.C.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
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 : The Modern Software Manager
|
|
Original : I am the very model of a modern major-general
|
|
Group : Gilbert and Sullivan
|
|
Author : Brad Needham
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
The Modern Software Manager
|
|
|
|
|
|
(to the tune of a similarly titled song from
|
|
Gilbert and Sullivan's Pirates of Penzance)
|
|
by Brad Needham
|
|
|
|
|
|
Manager:
|
|
I am the very model of a modern software manager
|
|
I'm trimming back my budget to a point nobody can endure
|
|
I purchased a computer that had megabytes of filing
|
|
space
|
|
And only six months later heard complaints of its
|
|
compiling pace
|
|
About this act I haven't even moments of remorsefulness
|
|
I have the utmost confidence in engineers'
|
|
resourcefulness
|
|
Though scheduling of time has been equated with a
|
|
lottery
|
|
Adverse conditions bring about a spirit of comraderie.
|
|
|
|
All:
|
|
Adverse conditions bring about a spirit of comraderie
|
|
Adverse conditions bring about a spirit of comraderie
|
|
Adverse conditions bring about a spirit of
|
|
comraderaderie!
|
|
|
|
Manager:
|
|
I cannot understand why my employees are infirminal
|
|
I simply ask that ten of them share typing at one
|
|
terminal
|
|
I'm trimming back my budget to a point nobody can endure
|
|
I am the very model of a modern software manager.
|
|
|
|
All:
|
|
He's trimming back his budget to a point nobody can
|
|
endure
|
|
He is the very model of a modern software manager.
|
|
|
|
Manager:
|
|
When I discovered heavy use of text processing led to
|
|
ills
|
|
Providing my subordinates excuses to slip schedules
|
|
I fully analyzed the situation and I lost no time
|
|
Administrating installation of this pretty paradigm:
|
|
Immediate response must be considered just a luxury
|
|
All word processing programs will be run each day from
|
|
dusk to three
|
|
I cannot buy computers with the money for our creditors
|
|
So, engineers, prepare yourselves for batch-processing
|
|
editors.
|
|
|
|
All:
|
|
So, engineers, prepare yourselves for batch-processing
|
|
editors
|
|
So, engineers, prepare yourselves for batch-processing
|
|
editors
|
|
So, engineers, prepare yourselves for batch-processing
|
|
editeditors!
|
|
|
|
Manager:
|
|
The influx of employees has amounted to an avalanche
|
|
So I am asking everyone to get along with half a bench
|
|
I'm trimming back my budget to a point nobody can endure
|
|
I am the very model of a modern software manager.
|
|
|
|
All:
|
|
He's trimming back his budget to a point nobody can
|
|
endure
|
|
He is the very model of a modern software manager.
|
|
|
|
Manager:
|
|
In fact, when I have learned that "software tools" are
|
|
not mechanical
|
|
"Computer operations" not an exercise tyrannical
|
|
That "data flow" cannot be used to measure conductivity
|
|
And "software automation" is the key to productivity
|
|
When I'm aware my ignorance from Dijkstra back to
|
|
Babbage shows
|
|
My software education is no more than any cabbage knows
|
|
I'll be a software manager that during loud contention
|
|
hears
|
|
The knowledge and experience proceeding from my
|
|
engineers.
|
|
|
|
All:
|
|
The knowledge and experience proceeding from his
|
|
engineers
|
|
The knowledge and experience proceeding from his
|
|
engineers
|
|
The knowledge and experience proceeding from his
|
|
enginengineers!
|
|
|
|
Manager:
|
|
But until then these budget slashes some consider
|
|
jealousy
|
|
In actuality belie my unrestricted zealousy
|
|
I'm trimming back my budget to a point nobody can endure
|
|
I am the very model of a modern software manager.
|
|
|
|
All:
|
|
He's trimming back his budget to a point nobody can
|
|
endure
|
|
He is the very model of a modern software manager.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Monopoly
|
|
Original : Yesterday
|
|
Group : Beatles
|
|
Author : Michael John Muuss
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
Monopoly
|
|
|
|
(to Yesterday)
|
|
by Michael John Muuss
|
|
|
|
|
|
Monopoly -- I thought my errors had all gone away.
|
|
Now it looks as if they'll always stay.
|
|
I recompiled Monopoly!
|
|
|
|
Suddenly, it's not half the game it used to be.
|
|
There's a core dump sitting next to me.
|
|
Oh, Monopoly died suddenly!
|
|
|
|
Why it had to blow, I don't know.
|
|
What could it be?
|
|
I did something wrong, now I long for Monopoly.
|
|
|
|
Monopoly -- it was such an easy game to play.
|
|
Now the logic has all gone away.
|
|
Oh, why get me, Monopoly?
|
|
|
|
Why it had to blow, I don't know.
|
|
What could it be?
|
|
I did something wrong, now I long for Monopoly.
|
|
|
|
Monopoly -- It was such an easy game to play.
|
|
Now I need some space to work away.
|
|
Oh, why besiege my Monopoly?
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Mr. Bossman
|
|
Original : Mr. Sandman
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Nelson Bishop <nelson@natinst.com>
|
|
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 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 : 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,
|
|
bring back,
|
|
oh bring back my data to me, to me!
|
|
Bring back,
|
|
bring back,
|
|
oh bring back my data to me!
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : My Favorite Things
|
|
Original : My Favorite Things
|
|
Group : ? Traditional
|
|
Author :
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
My Favorite Things
|
|
|
|
|
|
(to the tune of My Favorite Things)
|
|
by J. Benson & J. Doll
|
|
|
|
|
|
Card reader managers, output addresses,
|
|
Drum operations and other such messes,
|
|
Job names consisting of character strings --
|
|
These are a few of my favorite things --
|
|
|
|
Input drum managers, functions external,
|
|
Signals and waits in a quite busy kernel;
|
|
All of the heartbreaks that debugging brings,
|
|
These are a few of my favorite things --
|
|
|
|
Chorus:
|
|
Run-time errors,
|
|
Missing modules,
|
|
Sleep I haven't had.
|
|
I simply remember my favorite things
|
|
And then I still feel real bad!
|
|
|
|
Five job descriptors and processes blocking,
|
|
Go see Ray Hookway with both my knees knocking;
|
|
Red eyes encircled by darkening rings,
|
|
These are a few of my favorite things--
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : My Favourite Things
|
|
Original : My Favourite Things
|
|
Group : ? Traditional
|
|
Author : Fred Curtis
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
To be sung to the tune of "My Favourite Things"
|
|
written by Fred Curtis
|
|
|
|
Pointers to pointers to printf()-like functions;
|
|
Unary minus and nested conjunctions;
|
|
Integers, booleans, characters, strings;
|
|
These are a few of my favourite things.
|
|
|
|
Bach on a CD and good indentation;
|
|
Not getting mugged while en route to the station;
|
|
Fountains with wishes and Gnomes without slings;
|
|
These are a few of my favourite things.
|
|
|
|
When the bug bites! When core dumps!
|
|
When the machine's had the <proverbial>
|
|
I simply remember my favourite things
|
|
And then I don't fell so sick.
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : My Program Lies in the DEC-20
|
|
Original : My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean
|
|
Group : Traditional
|
|
Author : Sherna Burley
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
My Program Lies in the DEC-20
|
|
|
|
(to My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean)
|
|
by Sherna Burley
|
|
|
|
|
|
My program lies in the DEC-20.
|
|
It's screwed up as screwed up can be.
|
|
It's bugs, they have bugs which are buggered.
|
|
Oh, give back my program to me. Give back...
|
|
|
|
My program was pure, sweet, and simple.
|
|
An op'rator using a line
|
|
Played pimp for a rogue name of Hasp and
|
|
With him she was sharing her time. Give back...
|
|
|
|
He showed her the lights of DEC-20.
|
|
He showed her a bit of the core.
|
|
Now my program will run on the nine months
|
|
And the output crawls over the floor. Give back...
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Network Pie
|
|
Original : American Pie
|
|
Group : Don Mclean
|
|
Author : Ken Kaufman <kaufman@uiucdcs.UUCP>
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Copyright (c) MCMLXXXIV by Ken Kaufman (if it matters)
|
|
Sung to the tune of "American Pie" (the 7 minute version)
|
|
|
|
|
|
A long long time ago
|
|
I can still remember how the newsgroups used to make me smile.
|
|
And I knew if I'd had my way I'd have something clever to say,
|
|
Or at least flame articles that weren't my style.
|
|
But I found net.religion boring;
|
|
Net.waterbeds left me snoring.
|
|
Liberals and right wingers were net.politics mudslingers.
|
|
I can't remember if I could laugh when 10 people flamed my speling gaffe.
|
|
But net.women.only was undistaff the day net.wombat died.
|
|
|
|
So ...
|
|
Bye bye, net.records has run dry.
|
|
Won't you paean net.wobegon, they ask with a sigh.
|
|
net.singles readers think that I am being too shy saying
|
|
If rejected I'm sure to die ... If rejected I'm sure to die.
|
|
|
|
Did you say you love net.books?
|
|
Are worms your name for computer crooks if "a hacker" fits you so?
|
|
Now do you believe in net.jokes.d?
|
|
Can you pay without an ID if your purchase is 90 bucks or so?
|
|
Well I know that you can sympathize; net.tv leaves me hypnotized.
|
|
But you can always choose to discuss six Doctor Whos.
|
|
I wrote anonymously to net.flame; in net.jokes I used another name.
|
|
But I knew it would all be the same the day net.wombat died.
|
|
|
|
I started singing ...
|
|
Bye bye, net.records has run dry.
|
|
Won't you paean net.wobegon, they ask with a sigh.
|
|
net.singles readers think that I am being too shy saying
|
|
If rejected I'm sure to die ... If rejected I'm sure to die.
|
|
|
|
Now for ten years we've all been on line the unix-wizards are doing fine,
|
|
But that's not how it used to be
|
|
When wombats were still quite unknown, before we left net.test alone
|
|
And New Yorkers had to sin illegally.
|
|
Oh but while our machine had gone down we could not get our mail from Brown
|
|
Or the whole Pacific Coast. So could you all please repost?
|
|
And while driving home I was tailgated for leaving my jokes unrotated.
|
|
No sanity was demonstrated the day net.wombat died.
|
|
|
|
We were singing ...
|
|
Bye bye, net.records has run dry.
|
|
Won't you paean net.wobegon, they ask with a sigh.
|
|
net.singles readers think that I am being too shy saying
|
|
If rejected I'm sure to die ... If rejected I'm sure to die.
|
|
|
|
Astro.expert and/or bio.expert and soon net.battle.of.the.sexpert
|
|
Because no one could find a better name.
|
|
Net.caveat or net.consumer; perhaps net.ripoff or net.product.humor
|
|
Or net.what.company.should.we.blame?
|
|
Well, I think you should be arrested (Your parentheses were (triply) nested!)
|
|
I would have followed up ... Oh, but my note was swallowed up!
|
|
Vegetarians ranted and the hunters raved; the Whoppers were McMicrowaved.
|
|
Do you recall what files we saved the day net.wombat died?
|
|
|
|
We started singing ...
|
|
Bye bye, net.records has run dry.
|
|
Won't you paean net.wobegon, they ask with a sigh.
|
|
net.singles readers think that I am being too shy saying
|
|
If rejected I'm sure to die ... If rejected I'm sure to die.
|
|
|
|
And there we were all in one place - maybe net.astro or perhaps net.space
|
|
With no time left to start again.
|
|
So come on - Bio fans, please be patient while physicists discuss creation
|
|
and net.tv.da comes to a fiery end.
|
|
And as I watched it on the screen, my hands got tense, my face grew mean.
|
|
No M.O.any-S. could clean up this net.mess
|
|
And the news arrived at this network site with the results of the long fight -
|
|
Wombat haters chuckled with delight ... the day net.wombat died.
|
|
|
|
We were singing ...
|
|
Bye bye, net.records has run dry.
|
|
Won't you paean net.wobegon, they ask with a sigh.
|
|
net.singles readers think that I am being too shy saying
|
|
If rejected I'm sure to die ... If rejected I'm sure to die.
|
|
|
|
I met a woman (that's not a girl!) and asked for news from the wombat world
|
|
But she just smiled and turned away.
|
|
I saw a clever bumper sticker that years ago would make me snicker
|
|
But it couldn't even raise a smile today.
|
|
And on the net chess players gamed, joke readers laughed, and insultees flamed,
|
|
But it had all been tried ... I committed net.suicide.
|
|
And the newsgroups I enjoyed the most were shut down; no one cared to post.
|
|
Users logged off from coast to coast the day net.wombat died.
|
|
|
|
And they were singing ...
|
|
Bye bye, net.records has run dry.
|
|
Won't you paean net.wobegon, they ask with a sigh.
|
|
net.singles readers think that I am being too shy saying
|
|
If rejected I'm sure to die ... If rejected I'm sure to die.
|
|
|
|
They were singing ...
|
|
Bye bye, net.records has run dry.
|
|
Won't you paean net.wobegon, they ask with a sigh.
|
|
net.singles readers think that I am being too shy saying
|
|
If rejected I'm sure to die.
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Not a boolean
|
|
Original : Blowin' in the wind
|
|
Group : Bob Dylan
|
|
Author : Joerg Anslik (janslik@leibniz.GUN.de)
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
*****************
|
|
* NOT A BOOLEAN *
|
|
*****************
|
|
|
|
1. How many code must a man type in
|
|
Before you can call him a man?
|
|
How many C must a compiler process
|
|
Before it can sleep in the RAM?
|
|
How many times must MS-DOS crash
|
|
Before it is forever banned?
|
|
|
|
R. The answer, my friend
|
|
Is not a boolean
|
|
The answer is not a boolean.
|
|
|
|
2. How many times must a man read his source
|
|
Before he can see what is wrong?
|
|
How many memory must his system have
|
|
Before he can use 'unsigned long'?
|
|
How many errors will it take till he knows
|
|
That there's still some work to be done?
|
|
|
|
R.
|
|
|
|
3. How many years can a program exist
|
|
Before it's erased from drive C:\ ?
|
|
How many years must known bugs exist
|
|
Before you get an update for free?
|
|
How many times can a drive move its head
|
|
And pretend there's no data to read?
|
|
|
|
R.
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Ode to Amy (or: The Frontend Shuffle)
|
|
Original : The Longest Time
|
|
Group : Billy Joel
|
|
Author : Nelson Bishop <nelson@natinst.com>
|
|
Intro : This is the best in a long line of songs I wrote for departing
|
|
coworkers.
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
Ode to Amy
|
|
or
|
|
The Frontend Shuffle
|
|
|
|
(To the tune of: The Longest Time, Billy Joel)
|
|
|
|
If you said the deadline was tonight,
|
|
There would still be functions left to write.
|
|
What else could I do?
|
|
I get the frontend from you.
|
|
And I'll be coding for the longest time.
|
|
|
|
Once I thought enhancements we all done.
|
|
Now I know the battle can't be won.
|
|
The boss will find me,
|
|
Give me work and then remind me.
|
|
That I'll be coding for the longest time.
|
|
|
|
I'm that voice you're hearing in the hall.
|
|
And we need a miracle that's all.
|
|
Because we need you.
|
|
And I know we'll want to see you.
|
|
'Cause we'll be coding for the longest time.
|
|
|
|
Maybe this wont last very long,
|
|
The new fix is right, but I could be wrong.
|
|
Maybe I've been coding too hard,
|
|
But I've come this far, and a bonus I hoped for.
|
|
|
|
Who knows how much further we'll go on.
|
|
Frontend will be broken when you're gone.
|
|
I'll take my chances,
|
|
I forgot this disk drive dances
|
|
And I'll be coding for the longest time.
|
|
|
|
I had second thoughts at the start.
|
|
I said to myself I hope that she's smart.
|
|
Now I know the woman that you are.
|
|
Your coding is bizarre,
|
|
But it's more that I hoped for.
|
|
|
|
I don't care what consequence it brings.
|
|
Kludge it and get on to other things.
|
|
This code is so bad.
|
|
I think you ought to know that
|
|
I intend to debug for the longest time.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Ode To Menu Systems
|
|
Original : ?
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : ? Richard Fowell
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Ode To Menu Systems
|
|
|
|
by Richard Fowell (probably)
|
|
|
|
I think that nothing I shall see's
|
|
As ugly as a menu tree.
|
|
For when from leaf to leaf I'd leap,
|
|
Along the branches I must creep.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : old bit stream
|
|
Original : Old Mill Stream
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Timothy P. Cheney <tcheney@SSDC.SAS.UPENN.EDU>
|
|
Intro : I'm picking the IHC's very own quartet the Cyber Dans to
|
|
win it all with their version of "Old Mill Stream"
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
My darling I am dreaming of the time we met,
|
|
When you and I were newbies on the Internet.
|
|
My hardware's obsolete now, and all my software, too,
|
|
But still I will remember where I first met you.
|
|
|
|
Down by the old bit stream,
|
|
where I e-mailed you,
|
|
Your reply came through,
|
|
And my mailbox grew.
|
|
|
|
From your .sig I knew, (Bass: from your .sig file I knew, I knew)
|
|
That you loved me, too.
|
|
|
|
You were sixteen,
|
|
And eight bit clean,
|
|
Down by the old bit stream.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Ole McMowle
|
|
Original : Old McDonald
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Bill Laubenheimer
|
|
Intro : Prof. Mowle ran the micro lab at pur-ee
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
Ole McMowle
|
|
|
|
(to the tune of Old McDonald)
|
|
by Bill Laubenheimer
|
|
|
|
|
|
Ole McMowle he had a lab
|
|
P I A I/O
|
|
and in this lab he had some Intels
|
|
P I A I/O
|
|
with a 8080 here and an 8080 there
|
|
here 80 there 80
|
|
everywhere an 8080
|
|
Ole McMowle he had a lab
|
|
P I A I/O
|
|
|
|
and in this lab he had some SWTPCs
|
|
P I A I/O
|
|
with a MICBUG here and a MICBUG there
|
|
here a MIC there a BUG
|
|
everywhere a MICBUG
|
|
Ole McMowle he had a lab
|
|
P I A I/O
|
|
|
|
and in this lab he had some students
|
|
P I A I/O
|
|
with a grad student here and a grad student there
|
|
here a grad there a grad
|
|
but everywhere an undergrad
|
|
Ole McMowle he had a lab
|
|
P I A I/O
|
|
|
|
and in this lab he had some ADMs
|
|
P I A I/O
|
|
with a green screen here and a white screen there
|
|
here a green there a white
|
|
students typing day and night
|
|
Ole McMowle he had a lab
|
|
P I A I/O
|
|
|
|
and in this lab he had a printer
|
|
P I A I/O
|
|
with a page feed here and a page feed there
|
|
page here page there
|
|
paper paper everywhere
|
|
Ole McMowle he had a lab
|
|
P I A I/O
|
|
|
|
and in this lab you'll find McMowle
|
|
P I A I/Oing
|
|
with a DON'T TOUCH here and a DON'T TOUCH there (note
|
|
upper case)
|
|
on a micro here and a terminal there
|
|
tieing up equipment everywhere
|
|
Ole McMowle he had a lab
|
|
P I A I/O
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : On the Net
|
|
Original : Over There
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Sarah Elizabeth Miller
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
On the Net
|
|
|
|
(to Over There)
|
|
by Sarah Elizabeth Miller
|
|
|
|
On the net,
|
|
On the net,
|
|
Hacking on
|
|
All night long
|
|
On the net.
|
|
All the network systems,
|
|
We're gonna list 'em
|
|
And snarf anything that we can get.
|
|
On the net,
|
|
On the net,
|
|
Hacking here,
|
|
Hacking there
|
|
On the net.
|
|
We'll find a modem
|
|
And then uncode'em.
|
|
Then we'll log into every system on the net.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : On our First Day on Usenet
|
|
Original : The 12 days of Xmas
|
|
Group : Traditional
|
|
Author : Laura Glenn <opje@proper.UUCP>
|
|
Intro : More than enough days of usenet
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
on our first day on usenet the mailer sent to me
|
|
a reject from uucp... (an unsent message. trouble was, it kept retrying
|
|
once an hour, so regular as clockwork, i got a
|
|
copy of the transmit session and a random piece
|
|
of my message - never enough to resend it, of
|
|
course!)
|
|
|
|
on the second day on usenet, upon my crt (were)
|
|
two 'rot 13's and
|
|
a reject from uucp...
|
|
|
|
on the third day on usenet, tom truscott sent to me
|
|
three new scripts, (1 patch to inews and two patches to the patch!)
|
|
two 'rot 13's and
|
|
a reject from uucp...
|
|
|
|
on the fourth day on usenet, readnews had for me:
|
|
four net.flames (what... only four?!)
|
|
three new scripts,
|
|
two rot 13's and
|
|
a reject from uucp...
|
|
|
|
on the fifth day on usenet, plain for all to see (were)
|
|
five hundred lines! (all in one message, mind you...brief and to the point!)
|
|
four net.flames,
|
|
three new scripts,
|
|
two rot 13's and
|
|
a reject from uucp...
|
|
|
|
on the sixth day of usenet, our postnews gave to me
|
|
six orphaned responses, (darn thing never *did* get it right!)
|
|
five hundred lines!
|
|
four net.flames,
|
|
three new scripts,
|
|
two rot 13's and
|
|
a reject from uucp....
|
|
|
|
on the seventh day on usenet, our adm gave to me
|
|
seven added newsgroups (all dealing with the same topic, of course.)
|
|
six orphaned responses,
|
|
five hundred lines!!
|
|
four net.flames,
|
|
three new scripts,
|
|
two rot 13's and
|
|
a reject from uucp...
|
|
|
|
on the eighth day on usenet 'sf-lovers' gave to me
|
|
eight Doctor Who fans, (even after we give them their own group!)
|
|
seven added newsgroups,
|
|
six orphaned responses,
|
|
five hundred lines!!
|
|
four net.flames,
|
|
three new scripts,
|
|
two rot 13's and
|
|
a reject from uucp...
|
|
|
|
on the ninth day on usenet my mbox had for me
|
|
nine chain letters, (yep... the same one that was finally posted.)
|
|
eight Doctor Who fans,
|
|
seven added newsgroups,
|
|
six orphaned responses,
|
|
five hundred lines!
|
|
four net.flames,
|
|
three new scripts,
|
|
two rot 13's and
|
|
a reject from uucp...
|
|
|
|
on the tenth day on usenet, the df showed to me
|
|
ten blocks of disk space (left, that is...)
|
|
nine chain letters,
|
|
eight Doctor Who fans,
|
|
seven added newsgroups,
|
|
six orphaned responses,
|
|
five hundred lines!
|
|
four net.flames,
|
|
three new scripts,
|
|
two rot 13's and
|
|
a reject from uucp...
|
|
|
|
on the eleventh day on usenet, the phone bill came to me:
|
|
eleven calls to europe, (gee, i didn't know we had a *direct* uucp link
|
|
ten blocks of disk space, ...to mcvax!)
|
|
nine chain letters,
|
|
eght Doctor Who fans,
|
|
seven added newsgroups,
|
|
six orphaned responses,
|
|
five hundred lines!
|
|
four net.flames,
|
|
three new scripts,
|
|
two rot 13's and
|
|
a reject from uucp...
|
|
|
|
on the twelfth day on usenet, i read despairingly:
|
|
-------------------------------------------------
|
|
| |
|
|
| Your USENET administrator has taken your |
|
|
| site off the net. For further information |
|
|
| contact Pacific Bell re: your system's |
|
|
| $1300 phone bill. |
|
|
| Sincerely, |
|
|
| The Management. |
|
|
| |
|
|
-------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Over Hill, Over Caile
|
|
Original : As the Cassions go Rolling Along
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Albert Corda, Richard Holmes & David Kinder
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
Over Hill, Over Caile
|
|
|
|
(to As the Cassions go Rolling Along)
|
|
by Albert Corda, Richard Holmes & David Kinder
|
|
|
|
Over hill, over caile,
|
|
We will hit the macro trail
|
|
As our program goes crunching along!
|
|
|
|
Read stuff in.
|
|
Take the sum.
|
|
Do your output to the drum
|
|
As our program goes crunching along!
|
|
|
|
For it's push, move, pop,
|
|
Execute a FORTRAN stop,
|
|
Shout out your opcodes loud and strong:
|
|
|
|
CAIN!! JRST!!
|
|
|
|
We will bomb as we
|
|
Overwrite our UFD
|
|
And our program goes crunching along!!
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : PC:s are PC:s
|
|
Original : People are People
|
|
Group : Depeche Mode
|
|
Author : ?
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
PC:s are PC:s
|
|
-------------
|
|
|
|
PC:s are PC:s
|
|
So why should it be
|
|
Yours and mine communicate so awfully
|
|
|
|
PC:s are PC:s
|
|
So why should it be
|
|
We cannot communicate with the RS-232C?
|
|
|
|
So they're different makes
|
|
And they're different breeds
|
|
And different PC:s have different needs
|
|
You tell me that you hate this
|
|
That I've done something wrong
|
|
I've only followed the manual so what could
|
|
I have done
|
|
|
|
I can't comprehend
|
|
Why aren't the bytes
|
|
At the other end
|
|
Help me comprehend
|
|
|
|
Help me comprehend
|
|
|
|
Now it's punching
|
|
And it's clicking
|
|
And it's beeping at me
|
|
I'm relying on the salesman's guarantee
|
|
So far no bytes have surfaced
|
|
Of the ones that I sought
|
|
They just take a while to travel
|
|
From its RAM to its port
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : P-I-F-FO
|
|
Original : BINGO
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Aubrey Philipsz
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
There is a network you can hack
|
|
And AUTOVON's it's name-o
|
|
P-I-F-FO
|
|
P-I-F-FO
|
|
P-I-F-FO
|
|
And AUTOVON's it's name-o
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Please Release Me
|
|
Original : Please Release Me
|
|
Group : Englebert Humperdinck
|
|
Author : Nelson Bishop <nelson@natinst.com>
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
Please Release Me
|
|
|
|
Please release me let me go,
|
|
My bugs aren't major anymore.
|
|
To waste your time would be a sin.
|
|
Release me, to Beta once again.
|
|
|
|
I have found a new bug here,
|
|
Too late to fix it now I fear,
|
|
You can't boot warm, but must boot cold.
|
|
Release me, the users never know.
|
|
|
|
Please release me can't you see,
|
|
You'd be a fool to cling to me.
|
|
That's not a bug, but feature, dear.
|
|
Release me, don't wait another year.
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : PLIate's Dream
|
|
Original : Pilate's Dream
|
|
Group : from Jesus Christ Superstar
|
|
Author : Guy L. Steele Jr.
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
PLIate's Dream
|
|
|
|
[to be sung to the tune of
|
|
Pilate's Dream
|
|
from Jesus Christ Superstar]
|
|
|
|
|
|
I dreamed I was a brand new language,
|
|
The ultimate in speed;
|
|
I handled strings as fast as RPG,
|
|
And twice as easily.
|
|
|
|
I crunched numbers like COBOL,
|
|
Trees like APL,
|
|
And FORTRAN loaned its FORMATs and GO TOs,
|
|
The cause of many screws.
|
|
|
|
And then a man said, "Now we'll write a monitor,
|
|
With Multics what it's for.
|
|
Our project is begun;
|
|
We'll code in PL/I."
|
|
|
|
Then I saw thousands of coders
|
|
Searching for their bugs,
|
|
And then I heard them mentioning my name
|
|
And leaving me the blame.
|
|
|
|
|
|
-- The Great Quux
|
|
(with apologies to
|
|
Rice and Webber)
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : POOR PURE PERCY P
|
|
Original : ?
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : ?
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Percy P was a mathematician
|
|
whose "pureness" was never denied.
|
|
But he found one day, to his sorrow,
|
|
that his theorems had been applied!
|
|
He had used all the standard precautions;
|
|
his papers were pointedly dry!
|
|
But his own esoteric notation
|
|
had been solved by a physicist spy!
|
|
|
|
The colloquium buzzed with the gossip;
|
|
he could offer no valid excuse.
|
|
Percy P was a traitor of traitors,
|
|
for his work was of PRACTICAL USE!
|
|
Nobody dared to defend him.
|
|
Could it be that he'd plead the crime
|
|
That his work was just then needed
|
|
to effect quantization of time?
|
|
|
|
Ignored when he joined conversations;
|
|
one would think that he poisoned the air.
|
|
And he felt on his way to the office -
|
|
a new man might be in his chair.
|
|
A committee was in operation,
|
|
working twenty four hours a day,
|
|
Deleting his name from the journals,
|
|
and throwing his reprints away.
|
|
|
|
He knew where his future was leading,
|
|
no sense in prolonging the pain;
|
|
He left with a handful of papers,
|
|
and never was heard from again.
|
|
So take heed all you mathematicians
|
|
who pretend your endeavor is pure;
|
|
Tho' your luck may hold for a decade,
|
|
in the end you can never be sure.
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Programmer
|
|
Original : SledgeHammer
|
|
Group : Peter Gabriel
|
|
Author : ?
|
|
Intro : (to the tune of "SledgeHammer". Apologies to Peter Gabriel)
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
You could have some FORTRAN.
|
|
I will write your subroutine
|
|
You could have some C and Ada
|
|
I will rev up your machine
|
|
|
|
Why don't you just hire me?
|
|
I'll code anything you need
|
|
|
|
You can have some Pascal;
|
|
You type 'IF' and I'll type 'THEN'
|
|
You can have some Lisp code 'EVAL'-ing
|
|
May the recursion never end!
|
|
|
|
(I wanna be your) Programmer!
|
|
Why don't you use my code!
|
|
(Let me be your) Programmer!
|
|
Just compile and load, no problem
|
|
|
|
I can deal with SNOBOL
|
|
I can even handle APL
|
|
But I won't deal with COBOL
|
|
No one can put me through that hell!
|
|
|
|
(I wanna be your) Programmer!
|
|
Go on and use my code
|
|
(So let me be your) Programmer!
|
|
Just compile and load, and run it
|
|
Hey, look at ME! (I'm a) Programmer!
|
|
An algorithms' man
|
|
(So nice to be a) Programmer
|
|
I'm raking fifty grand, just writing
|
|
code.
|
|
Code.
|
|
Programmer!
|
|
|
|
(interlude)
|
|
|
|
I LIKE TO HACK!
|
|
|
|
I dig assembler (dig assembler)
|
|
Wrote my HEX2BIN
|
|
I built the kernel (oh, what a kernel!)
|
|
Put my drivers in
|
|
(yeah yeah yeah) Load for me! (load for me)
|
|
I will port you through
|
|
Load for me! (load for me)
|
|
I will port you through
|
|
|
|
I want real neat tools!
|
|
I wanna build compilers! Build compilers now!
|
|
NOW!
|
|
I want, I want microcode!
|
|
I want, I want microcode!
|
|
|
|
YACC YACC YACC YACC YACC YACC YACC YACC YACC!
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The Programmer's Blues
|
|
Original : Smuggler's Blues
|
|
Group : Glenn Frye
|
|
Author : <wyvern@agora.rain.com>, Mark E. Sunderlin <megabyte@chinet.UUCP>
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
"The Programmer's Blues"
|
|
by Robert J. Woodhead
|
|
(Cleaned up by Dr. Megabyte)
|
|
with apologies to Glen Frye
|
|
|
|
There's trouble in the data now, I can feel it in my bones,
|
|
I had a premonition that I should'nt code alone,
|
|
I had the new dos loaded but I didn't think it'd fry,
|
|
Then everything exploded and 2 weeks work blew sky-high!
|
|
|
|
So baby here's a printout and a keyboard for your hand,
|
|
And here's a little floppy, now do it just the way we planned,
|
|
You debug for 20 days and I'll pay you 20 grand!
|
|
|
|
I'm sorry it went down like this, but some chip had to fuse,
|
|
It's the typing of the language, It's the Programmer's Blues...
|
|
|
|
Programmer's Blues...
|
|
|
|
Coder's and the Analyst's, Hackers and Sysops,
|
|
Bad comments and strange bomboffs, and the bugs nobody copped,
|
|
No matter if it's Pascal, Basic or Cobol,
|
|
You've got to carry manuals, there's no online help at all!
|
|
|
|
It's lots of rotten coffee, and lot's of lousy food,
|
|
Every variable name is dangerous, it might have been pre-used,
|
|
It's the lure of relaxed typing, it's so easy to be crude!
|
|
|
|
Perhaps you'll understand it better, when you see my tools,
|
|
It's the ultimate enhancement, it's the Programmer's Blues!
|
|
|
|
Programmer's Blues...
|
|
|
|
You see it in their memos, you read them every day,
|
|
They say you have to fix those bugs, but they just don't go away,
|
|
No matter how hard you work, it just won't run OK,
|
|
You bury them in subroutines, but you know they're here to stay!
|
|
|
|
You hope that none'll notice them, but they always seem to do,
|
|
You beg for Beta testing, maybe one will give a clue,
|
|
Down from the office of your manager, you learn the heat's on you..
|
|
|
|
Heat's on you..
|
|
|
|
It's a losing proposition, but one you can't refuse,
|
|
It's policies of debugging, it's the Programmer's Blues...
|
|
|
|
Programmer's Blues!
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The Programmer's Viewpoint
|
|
Original : My favorite things
|
|
Group : ? (traditional)
|
|
Author : Greywolf <greywolf@autodesk.com>
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
The programmer's viewpoint
|
|
( to the tune of "My favorite things" )
|
|
( Lyrics by greywolf )
|
|
|
|
This routine sets up some pointers to functions,
|
|
And this one completely reverses conjunctions,
|
|
This function here turns your trees into rings,
|
|
And does other rather unusual things...
|
|
|
|
Pointers to longwords with external labels,
|
|
Pointers to structures in segmented tables,
|
|
Pointers to pointers to pointers to strings
|
|
(This code does some *rather* unorthodox things...!)
|
|
|
|
Unions and structures and macros included,
|
|
Some of which seem to be quite convoluted,
|
|
Library calls make the network go "ping!"
|
|
(And other sometimes inexplicable things)
|
|
|
|
When the crash comes, when the core dumps
|
|
When the data fries,
|
|
I simply recall these unusual things
|
|
..then I know *why* it dies.
|
|
|
|
Assemblers, preprocessors, dynamic loaders,
|
|
Linkers, compilers, and optimized coders,
|
|
Debuggers and dumpers and archivers bring
|
|
Online a programmer's favourite things...
|
|
|
|
Scanners and parsers and string tokenizers,
|
|
And lexicographical line analyzers,
|
|
Tools that make endless arrays of the strings,
|
|
These are some more of a programmer's things...
|
|
|
|
Debuggers and coredumps and function backtraces,
|
|
Registers, breakpoints and strange interfaces,
|
|
Contexts and byte-ordering problems do cling,
|
|
but these are a programmer's *favourite* things (uck!)
|
|
|
|
When the core dumps, and the disk hangs,
|
|
and the program dies,
|
|
"Well, hey, it did just what I told it to do
|
|
-- Tell the Boss that my program *flies*!"
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Programs
|
|
Original : Sunshine on My Shoulders
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Sarah Elizabeth Miller
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
Programs
|
|
|
|
(to Sunshine on My Shoulders)
|
|
by Sarah Elizabeth Miller
|
|
|
|
Chorus:
|
|
Programs on 360 make me happy.
|
|
Programs on DEC-10 can make me cry.
|
|
Programs on 11 are so easy.
|
|
Programs in computers make me high.
|
|
|
|
If I had a core that was empty,
|
|
I'd let you make large file after file.
|
|
If I had a disk that I could spin for you,
|
|
I'd give you space to last for quite a while.
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
If I had a tape with won'drous programs,
|
|
I'd let you run seawar by the mile.
|
|
If I had the system that was big enough,
|
|
I'd let you save each and every file.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Puff the Fractal Dragon
|
|
Original : Puff the Magic Dragon
|
|
Group : Peter, Paul and Mary / The Seekers?
|
|
Author : ?
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
Puff the Fractal Dragon (to the tune of Puff the Magic Dragon)
|
|
--------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
No plain fanfold paper could hold that fractal Puff --
|
|
He grew so fast no plotting pack could shrink him far enough.
|
|
Compiles and simulations grew so quickly tame
|
|
And swapped out all their data space when Puff pushed his stack frame.
|
|
CHORUS:
|
|
Puff the fractal dragon was written in C,
|
|
And frolicked while processes switched in mainframe memory.
|
|
Puff the fractal dragon was written in C,
|
|
And frolicked while processes switched in mainframe memory.
|
|
Puff, he grew so quickly, while others moved like snails
|
|
And mini-Puffs would perch themselves on his gigantic tail.
|
|
All the student hackers loved that fractal Puff
|
|
But DCS did not like Puff, and finally said, "Enough!"
|
|
(chorus)
|
|
Puff used more resources than DCS could spare.
|
|
The operator killed Puff's job -- he didn't seem to care.
|
|
A gloom fell on the hackers; it seemed to be the end,
|
|
But Puff trapped the exception, and grew from naught again!
|
|
(chorus)
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Rawhide
|
|
Original : Rawhide
|
|
Group : Blues Brothers
|
|
Author : Michael Weber <bytewurm@messua.informatik.rwth-aachen.de>
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
(based on RAWHIDE from BluesBrothers)
|
|
-------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Rolling, rolling, rolling,
|
|
When the screens are scrolling,
|
|
Keep the Mouses rolling - Rawhide
|
|
|
|
Cores and Shells and dither
|
|
Dust bin forever
|
|
Wishin` my disk was in my drive
|
|
All the things I`m missin`
|
|
Good Ops, Kills and Listings
|
|
Are waiting at the end of my file
|
|
|
|
|
|
Move `em on
|
|
Hit `em up
|
|
Move `em on
|
|
Rawhide
|
|
|
|
Cut `em out
|
|
Ride `em in
|
|
Cut `em out
|
|
Ride `em in
|
|
Rawhide
|
|
|
|
|
|
Keep hackin`, hackin`, hackin`
|
|
While Sysop isn`t checkin`
|
|
Keep other users crackin` - Rawhide
|
|
|
|
I don`t understand her
|
|
My program has an error
|
|
Soon I will turn that system off
|
|
My C-Shell isn`t workin`
|
|
The Admin catched me lurkin`
|
|
Lurkin` at the end of my file
|
|
|
|
|
|
Move `em on
|
|
Hit `em up
|
|
Move `em on
|
|
Rawhide
|
|
|
|
Cut `em out
|
|
Ride `em in
|
|
Cut `em out
|
|
Ride `em in
|
|
Rawhide
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The RSX Backup Song ("Are we back up yet?")
|
|
Original : To the tune of: "My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean"
|
|
Group :
|
|
Author : (probably by Bruce Mitchell)
|
|
Info : Kindly provided in source by Jim McGlinchey - from the RSX songbook
|
|
Note that ROLLIN was the first backup program on RSX, but normally
|
|
only ran off the Diagnostic tape system. All the other mentions are
|
|
later attempts at writing the perfect backup program.
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Dave Cutler wrote RSX V1,
|
|
The kit fit on one magtape then,
|
|
The baseline came in in 5 minutes!
|
|
My Ghod, how the files ROLLIN!
|
|
|
|
Refrain:
|
|
ROLLIN, ROLLIN, my Ghod, how the files ROLLIN, ROLLIN!
|
|
ROLLIN, ROLLIN, my Ghod, how the files ROLLIN, ROLLIN!
|
|
|
|
PRESRV you can boot from a magtape,
|
|
The files go out and come in,
|
|
Just don't try to do single files!
|
|
My Ghod, how the files ROLLIN!
|
|
|
|
(Refrain)
|
|
|
|
Disk Save and Corrupt, it works real good,
|
|
Whoever wrote it must have grinned,
|
|
The index file moves to the low blocks!
|
|
My Ghod, how the files ROLLIN!
|
|
|
|
(Refrain)
|
|
|
|
LUsers back files up with BRU now,
|
|
The magtapes it writes are a sin,
|
|
They don't read on VMS BACKUP!
|
|
My Ghod, how the files ROLLIN!
|
|
|
|
(Refrain)
|
|
|
|
Myself, I write DOS FLX tapes,
|
|
A copy in ANSI for grins,
|
|
But mainly, all my disks are shadowed!
|
|
My Ghod, how the files ROLLIN!
|
|
|
|
(Refrain)
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The RSX Support Song ("Thank you for your SPR")
|
|
Original : "Send Lawyers, Guns and Money"
|
|
Group :
|
|
Author :
|
|
Info : Kindly provided in source by Jim McGlinchey - from the RSX songbook
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
I tried to do some realtime
|
|
The way I always do
|
|
How was I to know
|
|
We were running DECnet, too?
|
|
|
|
I was cutting up a driver
|
|
I took a little risk
|
|
Send Dave and Clarke and Howard
|
|
DEC, get me out of this!
|
|
|
|
I'm the innocent programmer
|
|
But somehow I got stuck
|
|
Between Big Blue and the VAX SIG
|
|
And the system is down
|
|
Yes the system is down
|
|
Well the system is down
|
|
|
|
Now I'm writing code in Basic
|
|
I'm a desperate man
|
|
Send Ralph and Jim and Brian
|
|
The shit has hit the fan
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The RSX VMS Lovers Song ("Wow, there's lots of stuff on that VAX")
|
|
Original : "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands"
|
|
Group :
|
|
Author : (probably by Bruce Mitchell)
|
|
Info : Kindly provided in source by Jim McGlinchey - from the RSX songbook
|
|
For some time there was a tradition at DECUS symposia that the RSX SIG
|
|
would do something to disrupt the VAX SIG. (Once they kidnapped the
|
|
VAX SIG chair, along with the sofa she was relcining on. They managed
|
|
to ransom the sofa for a six-pack of beer, but had to pay to have the
|
|
VAX SIG take their Chair back.) Anyway, the following song was sung to
|
|
the VAX SIG by the assembled RSX SIG at a recent symposia.
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
He's got lotsa crud, on his VAX,
|
|
He's got lotsa crud, on his VAX,
|
|
He's got lotsa crud, on his VAX,
|
|
He's got lotsa crud on his VAX.
|
|
|
|
He's got DEC star couplers, on his VAX,
|
|
He's got Britton Lee, on his VAX,
|
|
He's got full DECservice, on his VAX,
|
|
He's got expensive crud on his VAX.
|
|
|
|
He's got real-time, on his VAX,
|
|
He's got Datatrieve, on his VAX,
|
|
He's got VMS, on his VAX,
|
|
He's got slow crud on his VAX.
|
|
|
|
He's got office automation, on his VAX,
|
|
He's got All-in-One, on his VAX,
|
|
He's got security up the ying-yang, on his VAX,
|
|
He's got management on his VAX.
|
|
|
|
He's got VAX/ELAN, on his VAX,
|
|
He's got ANSI DIBOL, on his VAX,
|
|
He's got RPG, on his VAX,
|
|
He's got useless crud on his VAX.
|
|
|
|
He's got gigundo disks, on his VAX,
|
|
He's got max warp speed, on his VAX,
|
|
He's got unlimited POOL, on his VAX,
|
|
He's got some decent stuff on his VAX.
|
|
|
|
He's got BLISS-16, on his VAX,
|
|
He's got TOPS-20 emulation, on his VAX,
|
|
He's got Fidonet, on his VAX,
|
|
He's got bizarre crud on his VAX.
|
|
|
|
He's got 1000 users, on his VAX,
|
|
He's got 40 LAT servers, on his VAX,
|
|
He's got the King James Bible, on his VAX,
|
|
He's got the whole world on his VAX.
|
|
|
|
He's got lotsa crud, on his VAX,
|
|
He's got lotsa crud, on his VAX,
|
|
He's got lotsa crud, on his VAX,
|
|
He's got lotsa crud on his VAX!
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Script for a Hacker's Tear
|
|
Original : Script for a Jester's Tear
|
|
Group : Marillion
|
|
Author : Thomas Koenig <ib09@rz.uni-karlsruhe.de>, Hubert Schaefer
|
|
Intro : Amazing how adaptive the original is, there wasn't much
|
|
to change :-)
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
Script for a Hacker's Tear
|
|
|
|
So here I am once more in the playground
|
|
of the broken hacks
|
|
one more experience, one more entry in
|
|
the logfile, self - typed
|
|
yet another programming suicide
|
|
overdosed on caffeine and bytes
|
|
Too late to say I'll fix it
|
|
too late to remount the drive
|
|
abandoning the listings
|
|
of projects no longer alive
|
|
|
|
I'm losing on this VAX, I'm losing
|
|
with these system calls
|
|
I'm losing on this VAX, I'm losing
|
|
with these system calls
|
|
Too much, too soon, too far, to go, too late
|
|
to type, this hack is over
|
|
This hack is over
|
|
|
|
So here I am once more
|
|
in the playground of the broken hacks
|
|
I'm losing on this VAX, losing with
|
|
these system calls, this hack is over,
|
|
over
|
|
|
|
Yet another programming suicide
|
|
overdosed on caffeine and bytes
|
|
I'm losing on this VAX, I'm losing
|
|
with these system calls, this hack is
|
|
over
|
|
|
|
Too late to say I'll fix it
|
|
too late to remount the drive
|
|
The hack is over
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Sentimental Berwald
|
|
Original : Sentimental Journey
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : J. Benson & J. Doll
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
Sentimental Berwald
|
|
|
|
(to the tune of Sentimental Journey)
|
|
by J. Benson & J. Doll
|
|
|
|
Gonna plug some wires into my plugboard
|
|
Gonna get my Berwald checked out.
|
|
Gonna plug some wires into my plugboard,
|
|
Get it done without a doubt.
|
|
|
|
Seven,
|
|
That's the time we meet, at seven.
|
|
We'll be here till past eleven
|
|
Counting every transfer on the bus,
|
|
No frills, no fuss.
|
|
|
|
Gonna write a micro-coded program,
|
|
Gonna play with zeroes and ones.
|
|
Gonna write a micro-coded program,
|
|
Gonna have a whole lot of fun.
|
|
|
|
Glitches,
|
|
We don't want to see those glitches,
|
|
Would it help to flip the switches?
|
|
Thirty times my board has been rewired,
|
|
I feel so tired.
|
|
|
|
Gonna get my interrupts all serviced
|
|
With a nifty little routine.
|
|
Gonna get my interrupts all serviced,
|
|
Be the best thing we've ever seen!
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : SIGHUP Blues
|
|
Original : Bluebottle Blues
|
|
Group : Milligan and Carbone
|
|
Author : Russell Street <russells@ccu1.aukuni.ac.nz>
|
|
Intro : Adapted from the "Bluebottle Blues"
|
|
featuring Maurice Plonk and his Orchestra Fromage, with
|
|
Nick Rauchen conducting "The Ball's Pond Road, near the One
|
|
in Harmony".
|
|
In reality written by Milligan and Carbone, recorded 24/05/56.
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
SIGHUP Blues
|
|
------------
|
|
By Russell Street (russells@ccu1.aukuni.ac.nz)
|
|
|
|
<Big musical introduction. Sound of door opening, and our
|
|
hero Process Bluebottle (P) runs up to microphone, where the
|
|
Kernel (K) is wait(2)ing.>
|
|
|
|
|
|
P: PING 255.255.255.255! <boos, rasperberries>
|
|
K: Just the process I've been looking for.
|
|
P: Oh!
|
|
K: <sings>
|
|
Clamber into my disk heads, Fred
|
|
Whence all but you have exec'd, Fred
|
|
There is no contesting,
|
|
I've no way of manefesting
|
|
How much I'd prefer you dead, Fred
|
|
P: Oh I'm glad you like me, my Kernel
|
|
Because I trust you to.
|
|
K: Gratifiy your wim, Jim.
|
|
P: Jim? What happened to Fred?
|
|
K: He mv'd his name.
|
|
P: What to?
|
|
K: Chunky.
|
|
Tell me, can you catch Jim?
|
|
P: No, Jim can not catch.
|
|
K: Then open this named pipe, son
|
|
On the file system, son
|
|
Which I have carefully arranged
|
|
so it will open up and throw you
|
|
into thirty K of NULLs
|
|
when you upset the pipe by reading
|
|
from it, Jim.
|
|
P: I say, it's not for deading me, is it Kernel?
|
|
K: Oh course not, dear boy! Just read from it a bit further!
|
|
P: Righty-ho then. Ahh. Here I am on the edge of the nice
|
|
little named-type pipe. It is a lovely day for
|
|
a naughty pipe. <CRUNCH!>
|
|
|
|
YAHHH! You've swamped me.
|
|
I do not like this game.
|
|
|
|
<sings>
|
|
I've got those "When I say I trust you I do not want to be KILLed
|
|
because I do not like those kind of signals" Blues.
|
|
I don't like naughty files that give my gets(3) binary data.
|
|
(They say harm can come to a growing process like that)
|
|
And I do not like SIGQUITs that longjmp me back to main()
|
|
Out of my reniced batch queue
|
|
I don't like being woken by nasty SIGALRM showers
|
|
And I do not like being nutted by Eifel and Fortran programs
|
|
So I do not want to be KILLed, HUPed, TERMed, QUITed, XCPUed
|
|
INTed!
|
|
I don't like that kind of type blues -- I don't like that
|
|
I've got them SIGHUP Blues.
|
|
|
|
K: Still alive?
|
|
Take this /dev/tty, pet.
|
|
P: Oh tar(1).
|
|
K: No, don't iocntl it yet, pet.
|
|
<off> All right, now you can iocntl it.
|
|
P: Are you sure I won't be KILLed or nothing, Kernel?
|
|
K: <off> No, no -- don't be frightened!
|
|
P: All right then, I'll just send a DUP to it,
|
|
and .... < BOOOM>
|
|
|
|
< over explosion >
|
|
|
|
You rotten swine you! You HUPed me again.
|
|
I shan't play this rotten game no more.
|
|
|
|
Closes open files, pages out memory
|
|
And exists through little hole in Mail deamon security...
|
|
|
|
<sound of disk head crashing>
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Silicon Valley Guy
|
|
Original : Valley Girls
|
|
Group : Moonunit Zappa
|
|
Author : Don Data and the Res-Tones :-)
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
Spoken: Hey, anybody seen my beeper?
|
|
|
|
Sung:
|
|
Valley Guy, he's a valley guy
|
|
Silicon Valley guy
|
|
Flip on tie, and tennis shoes
|
|
Thinks he's flip (not sure about
|
|
but he's blown a fuse these two)
|
|
Hangs out at the Radio Shack
|
|
buyin' chips for his UNIVAC
|
|
He's a...
|
|
|
|
Spoken: Naw, that one's not mine. Well anyway, it was complete chip burnout
|
|
with floppy disk failure. A real total system dump, you know? For certain!
|
|
And I told the output user, "Hey, would I de-res my own program? C'mon
|
|
man, don't call me, call PG&E! Hey, go somewhere and have a meltdown, man,
|
|
like, burn out!" Then I went down to the Shack to get some sub-dip-miniature
|
|
relays? And get this, the salesman gave me a new plastic pocket protector!
|
|
|
|
Sung:
|
|
Look out Intel, here he comes
|
|
He's the king of computer runs
|
|
Got his degree from M.I.T.
|
|
Knows square roots to infinity
|
|
|
|
Spoken: I scanned that new program down in word processing? The one with the
|
|
huge memory banks? Yea--Julie! Punch my code, I am certain! When I first saw
|
|
her I thought, "Woa! Give me a microsecond, could I trip her kip relay or
|
|
what?" She sorta smiles at me and I'm thinking, "I have got to access this
|
|
chick." But should I go subroutine or main program, you know? So I just
|
|
suddenly invade her spacial arena and introduce myself for starts. Hi, I'm
|
|
Ray Fifo.
|
|
|
|
Sung:
|
|
Valley Guy, he's a valley guy
|
|
Silicon Valley guy
|
|
Flip on tie, and tennis shoes
|
|
Thinks he's flip (still not sure about
|
|
but he's blown a fuse these two)
|
|
Hangs out at the Radio Shack
|
|
buyin' chips for his UNIVAC
|
|
He's a...
|
|
|
|
Spoken: So after a few casual edit statements, I can tell this unit really
|
|
digs me. I mean it's modem to the max, the program computes, right? We
|
|
make plans to meet at her place and I get there and she is online, I mean,
|
|
like, she's wearing all this software. I'm calculating the access time
|
|
to her front-end processor and there is phase jitter entering all my charge
|
|
couple devices! Her ambia-temperature's (?) rising! And she is alpha-fluxing
|
|
right before my eyes! We skipped dinner.
|
|
|
|
Sung:
|
|
Look out Intel, here he comes
|
|
He's the king of computer runs
|
|
Got his degree from M.I.T.
|
|
Knows square roots to infinity
|
|
|
|
After a RAM refresh time interval she says to me, "Ray, I'm all decoded now.
|
|
I think yo better go" And I say, "OK program, I can handle the end sum."
|
|
"And Ray," she says, "I hope you won't de-res me in the morning." And I
|
|
say, "Moi? De-res a cute litte program like you? Hey, I'm a Silicon Valley
|
|
Guy."
|
|
|
|
Sung:
|
|
Valley guy, he's a valley Guy
|
|
Silcon Valley guy (continues to end)
|
|
|
|
Spoken:
|
|
Come here you catalystic data, you! Give master control a little phase jitter.
|
|
Punch my code! Did I ever show you my cathode ray? It is really tubular!
|
|
Gag me with a microchip. Hey, where is my beeper?
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Software for Nothing
|
|
Original : Money for Nothing
|
|
Group : Dire Straits
|
|
Author : Brent CJ Britton
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Software for Nothing
|
|
====================
|
|
by: Brent CJ Britton
|
|
|
|
With appoligies to Mark Knopfler.
|
|
|
|
|
|
I waaaant my.. I waaaant my... I waaaant my C-R-T......
|
|
|
|
Now look at them hackers,
|
|
That's the way ya' do it.
|
|
Ya' play with mem'ry that you cannot see.
|
|
Now that ain't workin, that's the way ya do it.
|
|
Get your software for nothing and your chips for free.
|
|
|
|
Now that ain't workin, gotta CPU-it.
|
|
Let me tell ya, them guys ain't dumb.
|
|
Maybe crash the system with your little finger,
|
|
Maybe crash the system with your thumb.
|
|
|
|
We got to install micro-data-bases,
|
|
Gotta make things run like a breeeeze.
|
|
We gotta help these foreign students,
|
|
We gotta help these mindless E.E.'s...
|
|
|
|
The little Hacker with the Pepsi and the Munchos:
|
|
Yeah, buddy, don't like to SHARE...
|
|
The little Hacker got his own compiler,
|
|
The little guy don't change his underwear.
|
|
|
|
We got to install the latest debugger,
|
|
Under budget, and optimiiiiiiized.
|
|
We got to have more muddy-black coffee,
|
|
We got a green glow in our eyyyyyyes...
|
|
|
|
I shoulda' learned to play with Pascal.
|
|
I shoulda' learned to program some.
|
|
Look at that drive, I'm gonna stick it on the channel,
|
|
Man, it's better than the old one...
|
|
|
|
And who's up there, what's that? Beeping noises?
|
|
He's bangin on the keyboard like a chimpanze.
|
|
Oh that aint workin, that's the way ya do it,
|
|
Get your software for nothin', get your chips for free.
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Socket Man
|
|
Original : Rocket Man
|
|
Group : Elton John
|
|
Author : Wes Morgan <wes@engr.uky.edu>
|
|
Intro : While attempting to thrash a socket-ridden BSD package to some
|
|
semblance of System V-ism, the following ditty camne unbidden....
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Socket Man
|
|
<with apologies to Elton John>
|
|
|
|
I got my source last night from FTP
|
|
Compiling up at 2 AM
|
|
And my system is screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaming
|
|
"Undefined" at me.....
|
|
|
|
I thumb through books, I use my 'man'
|
|
It does no good, you see
|
|
'Cause I'm on System Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiive
|
|
And not BSD
|
|
|
|
Chorus:
|
|
And I think it's gonna take a lot of time
|
|
'Till named pipes bring me where I get to find
|
|
That BSD's not worth a pile of slime (oh no no noooooooo)
|
|
I'm a Socket Man.....
|
|
|
|
Socket Man....burning up the CPU for days
|
|
Socket Man....hacking through the SVID maze....
|
|
|
|
Verse 2:
|
|
|
|
I've tried so many things, they all have failed,
|
|
It's lonely in the lab
|
|
And noone elllllllllsssssssssee
|
|
Has a clue....
|
|
|
|
And all the techniques I don't understand
|
|
It's just a kludge to make it work...
|
|
A Socket Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan
|
|
Socket Man.....
|
|
|
|
Chorus:
|
|
And I think it's gonna take a lot of time
|
|
'Till named pipes bring me where I get to find
|
|
That BSD's not worth a pile of slime (oh no no noooooooo)
|
|
I'm a Socket Man......
|
|
|
|
Socket Man.....Hacking through the piles and piles of C
|
|
Socket Man.....Building up a hate for BSD....
|
|
|
|
<Repeat Chorus and fade>
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Somewhere over the Network
|
|
Original : Somewhere over the Rainbow
|
|
Group : (from the Wizard of Oz movie)
|
|
Author : decvax!duke!unc!bch
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
Somewhere over the Network
|
|
|
|
|
|
by decvax!duke!unc!bch
|
|
(to the tune of Somewhere over the Rainbow)
|
|
|
|
|
|
Somewhere over the network,
|
|
There waits news.
|
|
News flies over the network
|
|
To where? There are no clues.
|
|
|
|
I sit waiting for digests,
|
|
Can't you see
|
|
Some small part of my heart leaps
|
|
when I see uucp.
|
|
|
|
Somewhere across the telephone lines,
|
|
where Lauren plays and Upstill pines,
|
|
they're waiting;
|
|
The crazies who will flame at me
|
|
on poli-sci and arms-dash-d and ARPA-gating.
|
|
|
|
Somewhere over the network,
|
|
news flies free,
|
|
news flies over the network
|
|
why not, why not to me.
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : What Segment is This?
|
|
Original : Greensleeves
|
|
Group : Traditional
|
|
Author : Albert Corda, Richard Holmes & David Kinder
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
What Segment is This?
|
|
|
|
(to Greensleeves)
|
|
by Albert Corda, Richard Holmes & David Kinder
|
|
|
|
|
|
What segment's this
|
|
That, laid to rest
|
|
On FHA0:, is sleeping?
|
|
What system file
|
|
Lay here a while
|
|
While hackers around it were fweeping?
|
|
|
|
This, this is "acct.run,"
|
|
Accounting file for everyone.
|
|
Dump, dump it and type it out,
|
|
The file, the highseg of login.
|
|
|
|
Why lies it here
|
|
On public disk
|
|
And why is it now unprotected?
|
|
A bug in incant
|
|
Made it thus.
|
|
The problem has not been corrected.
|
|
|
|
Mount, mount all your DECtapes now
|
|
And copy the file somehow, somehow.
|
|
Dump, dump it and type it out,
|
|
The file, the highseg of login.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Song of the Certified Data Processor
|
|
Original : When I Was a Lad
|
|
Group : Gilbert and Sullivan
|
|
Author : Guy L. Steele Jr.
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Song of the Certified Data Processor
|
|
|
|
[to be sung to the tune of
|
|
When I Was a Lad
|
|
from H.M.S. Pinafore]
|
|
|
|
|
|
When I was a lad I served a term
|
|
As office boy to a computing firm.
|
|
I polished the handle of the big front door
|
|
And swept up all the card chips from the keypunch floor.
|
|
He swept up all the card chips from the keypunch floor.
|
|
I swept that chad so carefullee
|
|
That now I am officially a CDP.
|
|
He swept that chad so carefullee
|
|
That now he is officially a CDP.
|
|
|
|
My office job was a heavy load,
|
|
So I went to night school and learned to code.
|
|
I was soon coding payroll in RPG
|
|
And compiled all my programs on a System/3.
|
|
He compiled all his programs on a System/3.
|
|
I compiled my code so gay and free
|
|
That now I am officially a CDP.
|
|
He compiled his code so gay and free
|
|
That now he is officially a CDP.
|
|
|
|
I wrote efficient code each day,
|
|
But I missed the benefits of higher pay.
|
|
I asked for a raise, but my boss said, "See,
|
|
Youse ain't good enuf because youse ain't a CDP."
|
|
"He ain't good enuf because he ain't a CDP."
|
|
So I vowed that someday I would see
|
|
Myself become officially a CDP.
|
|
So he vowed that someday he would see
|
|
Himself become officially a CDP.
|
|
|
|
For nineteen weeks I worked to cram
|
|
All the textbooks for the CDP exam.
|
|
Then I took the exam and was shocked to see
|
|
That the questions didn't seem to mean a thing to me.
|
|
All the questions didn't seem to mean a thing to him.
|
|
So I wrote down some answers randomly,
|
|
But I gave up all my hopes to be a CDP.
|
|
So he wrote down some answers randomly,
|
|
But he gave up all his hopes to be a CDP.
|
|
Well, those random answers worked out fine;
|
|
They scored my results at the top of the line.
|
|
Now I am a consultant here,
|
|
And I make at least a hundred thousand bucks each year.
|
|
And he makes at least a hundred thousand bucks each year.
|
|
But I only command such a salary
|
|
Because I am officially a CDP.
|
|
But he only commands such a salary
|
|
Because he is officially a CDP.
|
|
|
|
Now, office boys, whoever you may be,
|
|
If you want to rise to the top of the tree,
|
|
Just go and take the CDP exam,
|
|
And no matter what you answer they won't give a D--n!
|
|
And no matter what you answer they won't give a D--n!
|
|
Just answer it all as random as you please
|
|
And you will all officially be CDPs.
|
|
Just answer it all as random as you please
|
|
And you will all officially be CDPs.
|
|
|
|
|
|
-- The Great Quux
|
|
(with apologies to
|
|
Gilbert and Sullivan)
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The Sound of FORTRAN
|
|
Original : The Sound of Music
|
|
Group : Rodgers and Hammerstein
|
|
Author : Guy L. Steele Jr.
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
The Sound of FORTRAN
|
|
|
|
[to be sung to the tune of
|
|
The Sound of Music]
|
|
|
|
|
|
My programming day has come to an end, I know,
|
|
But one minor bug still restrains me, though,
|
|
So back to me desk I stumble,
|
|
More coffee I pour in my mug,
|
|
So back to me desk I stumble,
|
|
More coffee I pour in my mug,
|
|
And I drink, and I think, and I program
|
|
Just one more hack, just one more hairy kludge
|
|
To remove that bug.
|
|
|
|
Machines are alive with the sound of FORTRAN,
|
|
With numbers they've crunched for a thousand hours;
|
|
They add and subtract to the sound of FORTRAN,
|
|
And raise fractions to unheard of powers.
|
|
|
|
My code's full of REAL statements, INTEGER and COMPLEX too,
|
|
duplicated thrice oe'r,
|
|
And so intermixed with the WRITEs and READs
|
|
to cause errors galore;
|
|
Arrays are declared of dimension six, but indexed minus two;
|
|
Computed GO TOs are last in the range of a DO!
|
|
|
|
I now recompile my corrected programs;
|
|
I know I will get what compiled before --
|
|
My code will be blessed with the sound of FORTRAN,
|
|
And I'll lose once more.
|
|
|
|
And I'll lose once more.
|
|
|
|
|
|
-- The Great Quux
|
|
(with apologies to
|
|
Rodgers and Hammerstein)
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The Sounds of Silence
|
|
Original : The Sound of Silence
|
|
Group : Simon & Garfunkel
|
|
Author : ?
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
THE SOUNDS OF SCIENCE
|
|
|
|
Hello lab work my old foe
|
|
I've come to feel my anger grow
|
|
I have to find your composition
|
|
Using your spectograph emission
|
|
But I can't, and I'm on my seventh try
|
|
I start to cry
|
|
These are the sounds of science
|
|
|
|
My test tube shatters with a pop
|
|
The gunk eats through the tabletop
|
|
Through all the science labs in Thimann
|
|
You can hear the students screamin'
|
|
And my own voice rises up above the rest
|
|
I'm so depressed
|
|
These are the sounds of science
|
|
|
|
The tabletop begins to smoke
|
|
The students all begin to choke
|
|
The TA hurries to my station
|
|
And then dies of asphyxiation
|
|
And I whine "I'm having trouble with this class
|
|
I hope I pass."
|
|
These are the sounds of science
|
|
|
|
The deadly smoke goes through the halls
|
|
And peels the paint right off the walls
|
|
And then I note with aggravation
|
|
This means a bad evaluation
|
|
And I breathe a long and melancholy sigh
|
|
And then I die
|
|
These are the sounds of science
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Stopcode Bells
|
|
Original : Jingle Bells
|
|
Group : Traditional
|
|
Author : Albert Corda, Richard Holmes & David Kinder
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Stopcode Bells
|
|
|
|
(to Jingle Bells)
|
|
Albert Corda, Richard Holmes & David Kinder
|
|
|
|
Chorus:
|
|
Stopcode bells, stopcode bells,
|
|
Stopcode all the way.
|
|
Oh, what fun it is to crash
|
|
For the fourteenth time today. (Repeat)
|
|
|
|
Poking through the core
|
|
With a bug in DDT,
|
|
Change your PPN
|
|
To seven comma three.
|
|
Halt somebody's job.
|
|
Make him scream and shout.
|
|
Oh, what fun it is to log
|
|
The operator out.
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Structured Programmer's Soliloquy
|
|
Original : Hamlet's Soliloquy
|
|
Group : Shakespeare
|
|
Author : Henry Kleine and Philip H. Roberts
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Structured Programmer's Soliloquy
|
|
|
|
SP or not SP -- that is the question:
|
|
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
|
|
The rules and exceptions of outrageous FORTRAN
|
|
Or to take arms against a sea of transfers
|
|
And by structuring end them. To code -- to test
|
|
No more; and by a test to say we end
|
|
The heartache, and the thousand natural mistakes
|
|
That FORTRAN is heir to. 'Tis a consummation
|
|
Devoutly to be wish'd. To code -- to test.
|
|
To test -- perchance to bomb: aye, there's the rub!
|
|
For in that test of code what bugs may come
|
|
When we have shuffled of this FORTRAN code,
|
|
Must give us pause. There's the respect
|
|
that makes calamity of so long lists. [??]
|
|
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time-sharing
|
|
Th' operating systems wrong, the computer's crash,
|
|
The pangs of despis'd code, the turnaround's delay,
|
|
The insolence of compilers, and the spurns
|
|
That patient coding of FORTRAN takes
|
|
When he himself might his quietus make
|
|
with PL/I? Who would this FORTRAN Bear,
|
|
To grunt and sweat under a weary language,
|
|
But that the dread of something after FORTRAN
|
|
The undiscover'd country, from whose bourne
|
|
No programmer returns -- puzzles the will,
|
|
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
|
|
Than fly to others that we know not of?
|
|
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
|
|
And thus the native hue of resolution
|
|
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
|
|
And enterprises of great pith and moment
|
|
With this regard their currents turn away
|
|
And lose the name of action.
|
|
|
|
- Henry Kleine and Philip H. Roberts
|
|
April DATAMATION
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The Swapper
|
|
Original : The Seeker
|
|
Group : The Who
|
|
Author : Jamie Mason <jmason2@gpu.utcs.utoronto.ca>
|
|
Intro : Since I posted 'Unix Wizard', I thought up another Unix-specific
|
|
song inspired by The Who...
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Swapper (Concocted by Jamie Mason to 'The Seeker' by The Who)
|
|
-----------
|
|
|
|
I've looked in kernel memory,
|
|
I've looked in the tables.
|
|
I try to find some core
|
|
For fifty million pages.
|
|
They call me the swapper.
|
|
I've been searching low and high.
|
|
Unix won't run out of memory
|
|
Till the day I die.
|
|
|
|
I asked Dennis Ritchie,
|
|
I asked Ken Thompson.
|
|
I asked comp.unix.wizards,
|
|
But they couldn't help me either.
|
|
They call me the swapper.
|
|
I've been searching low and high.
|
|
Unix won't run out of memory
|
|
Till the day I die.
|
|
|
|
People tend to hate me,
|
|
Cause I swap too slow.
|
|
As I page out their jobs
|
|
They want to shake my hand.
|
|
Focusing on swap space,
|
|
Investigating pagefaults,
|
|
I'm a pagedaemon,
|
|
I'm a very desperate hack.
|
|
|
|
Unix won't run out of memory
|
|
Till the day I die.
|
|
|
|
I learned how to raise resident set size.
|
|
Yeah, but look at this process it's mem'ry bound!
|
|
I'm happy when you segfault,
|
|
and when you run thrash.c I crash.
|
|
I get values but I
|
|
Don't know how or why!
|
|
|
|
I'm looking for core,
|
|
You're looking for CPU,
|
|
We're running on the same box,
|
|
And we don't know what to do!
|
|
They call me the swapper.
|
|
I've been searching low and high.
|
|
Unix won't run out of memory
|
|
Till the day I die.
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : SYSTEM CRASH
|
|
Original : The Monster Mash
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : ?
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
SYSTEM CRASH (to the tune of "The Monster Mash")
|
|
------------
|
|
|
|
I was working in the lab, late one night
|
|
When my eyes beheld an eerie sight,
|
|
Some smoke from our VAX began to rise
|
|
And suddenly, to my surprise...
|
|
|
|
[chorus]
|
|
(There was a crash) There was a system crash
|
|
(A mighty crash) I heard the disk heads smash
|
|
(A system crash) It came down in a flash
|
|
(There was a crash) A fatal system crash
|
|
|
|
The lab manager then appeared from his room,
|
|
Said: "I don't want to be a prophet of doom,
|
|
But we had one like this just the other day
|
|
Which blew up 4 megs and the SBA"
|
|
|
|
[chorus]
|
|
|
|
The system had just been booted, diagnostics had all run through,
|
|
When a power fluck made it all run amuck, then SCOTTY and IRVING blew too
|
|
|
|
So we'd lost all our VAXes in less than one night
|
|
When a VP came in and said: "hey, that's all right,
|
|
I'll loan you a Venus - here's what to do
|
|
When you call up Support, tell them Gordon sent you...
|
|
|
|
[chorus]
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Take me Down to the SunLab
|
|
Original : Take me Out of the Ball Game
|
|
Group : Al Green & Mabon Hodges
|
|
Author : ?
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
TAKE ME DOWN TO THE SUN LAB
|
|
|
|
Take me down to the Sun lab
|
|
Take me down to 210
|
|
We'll edit our programs and scratch our heads
|
|
Never mind that I'd rather be dead
|
|
And we'll root, root, root through the listing
|
|
Looking for dollar star 'name'
|
|
And it's one, two, three downloads in the old Sun lab game!
|
|
|
|
Take me down to the Sun lab
|
|
Take me down to 210
|
|
We'll run the assembler and have a snack
|
|
I don't care if it never comes back
|
|
And we'll wait, wait, wait for the download
|
|
If it don't work it's a shame
|
|
And it's one, two, three downloads in the old Sun lab game!
|
|
|
|
Take me down to the Sun lab
|
|
Take me down to 210
|
|
We'll program our I/O and interrupts
|
|
Sometimes it just makes me want to throw up
|
|
And we'll press, press, press on the reset
|
|
Each time it goes up in flames
|
|
And it's one, two, three downloads in the old Sun lab game!
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Tap My Wire
|
|
Original : Light my Fire
|
|
Group : The Doors
|
|
Author : Maarten Loss <90406025@hse.nl>
|
|
Intro : In addition to the neverending flow of hack-n-roll songs,
|
|
I decided to post this one. It's based on the all time
|
|
Doors-hit "Light my fire".
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
Tap my wire (the more's)
|
|
~~~~~~~~~~
|
|
|
|
You know that I would be untrue
|
|
You know that I would be a 'foo'
|
|
If I was to say to you
|
|
We couldn't hack ourselves to root
|
|
|
|
Come on hackers tap a wire
|
|
Come on hackers tap a wire
|
|
Try to set the mode-bits higher
|
|
|
|
The time to sit and watch is gone
|
|
No time to linger in the shell
|
|
Try to make crack-programs run
|
|
Yes we will make the tty's bell
|
|
|
|
Come on hackers tap a wire
|
|
Come on hackers tap a wire
|
|
Try to set the mode-bits higher
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Telnet Song
|
|
Original : ?
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Guy L. Steele / D.E. Knuth
|
|
Intro : D.E. Knuth, 'The Complexity of Songs', Communications of the
|
|
ACM 27 (4) pp. 345--348, April, 1984
|
|
(repetitions indicated; the song is only sung correctly if
|
|
the appropriate number of repetitions is used)
|
|
Some comments:
|
|
Strictly speaking, the song is not part of the article; it was
|
|
appended afterwards. The composer and lyricist is Guy
|
|
L. Steele, Jr.
|
|
The melody has a certain haunting quality that is quite hard to
|
|
convey in ASCII text. I don't know whether it has ever been
|
|
played.
|
|
The composer has email, so it shouldn't be too hard to find out.
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
There is a program called TELNET to get to another CPU.
|
|
Control up-arrow is the escape; it's doubled to send it through,
|
|
and "quit" is control up-arrow Q.
|
|
|
|
A hacker once used TELNET to get to another CPU.
|
|
He knew he could quit whenever he wanted to: all he had to do was type
|
|
control up-arrow Q.
|
|
|
|
Instead the hacker used TEL-NET to get to another CPU.
|
|
He knew he could quit whenever he wanted to: all he had to do was type
|
|
control up-arrow [at i-th time, repeat 2^i times]
|
|
Q.
|
|
[repeat verse n times; the choice of n is free]
|
|
|
|
The hacker soon got bored with this, and wanted to get back.
|
|
He sighed, and started the exponential popping of the stack:
|
|
|
|
The hacked flushed the TEL-NET to the most distant CPU:
|
|
He couldn't log out until he had killed them all,
|
|
counting up powers of two: he typed
|
|
control up-arrow [at i-th time, repeat 2^(n-i+1) times]
|
|
Q.
|
|
[repeat n times]
|
|
|
|
Whew!
|
|
|
|
The hacker's eyes were bloodshot; his fingers, black and blue;
|
|
He wanted to log out and and go home to bed, and sleep for a day or two.
|
|
He typed L O G O U T ... carriage return ...
|
|
|
|
The hacker was on a network with only twenty CPU's.
|
|
But if he had telnetted to them all,
|
|
he would not yet be through with typing
|
|
control up-arrow [repeat 7 times]
|
|
Q!
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Ten little Modulans
|
|
Original : Ten little (?)
|
|
Group : Traditional
|
|
Author : Pat Terry
|
|
Intro : C.A.R. Hoar was amazingly correct, and the shadow of the Emperor's
|
|
Clothes falls heavily on Modula-2. But I thought you might be
|
|
amused by a piece in a lighter vein, written for the Tuebingen WG13
|
|
meeting over a year ago by Modula-2's great friend Professor Terry.
|
|
[Notes: Nottingham = place of Modula-2 conference,
|
|
VDM = declaration language]
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
And then there were ....
|
|
========================
|
|
|
|
We start our tale with some Poetry:
|
|
|
|
"Ten little Modulans, keen to toe the line,
|
|
One went to Nottingham, and then there were nine.
|
|
|
|
Nine little Modulans thought casting sounded great,
|
|
One pressed for cast, old style, and then there were eight.
|
|
|
|
Eight little Modulans said "COMPLEX will be heaven".
|
|
One stayed with FORTRAN code, and then there were seven.
|
|
|
|
Seven little Modulans the FOR loop tried to fix,
|
|
Sixteen pages VDM - and then there were six.
|
|
|
|
Six little Modulans, exceptions felt should thrive.
|
|
One weakly RAISED a "no", and then there were five.
|
|
|
|
Five little Modulans, keen to add yet more,
|
|
Built five I/O libraries and then there were four.
|
|
|
|
Four little Modulans, on a formal spree,
|
|
Couldn't freeze the VDM, and then there were three.
|
|
|
|
Three little Modulans, Strings libraries did view,
|
|
One cried "still not enough!" and then there were two.
|
|
|
|
Two little Modulans said "Coroutines are fun"
|
|
HALT wouldn't terminate, and then there was one.
|
|
|
|
One little Modulan, dreadfully alone,
|
|
Soon he discovered C, and then there were none."
|
|
|
|
(Naughty Nineties Nursery Rhyme)
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : That's Life At Case
|
|
Original : Those Were The Days
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : J. Benson & J. Doll
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
That's Life At Case
|
|
|
|
(to the tune of Those Were The Days)
|
|
by J. Benson & J. Doll
|
|
|
|
Once upon a time there was a chairman
|
|
Running a department every day;
|
|
When you'd go to see him with a problem
|
|
He'd cry, "How neat!" then smile and simply say --
|
|
|
|
"That's life at Case, my friend,
|
|
Your problems never end,
|
|
You work too hard forever and a day.
|
|
You'd almost be amused
|
|
If you weren't so abused
|
|
And you can bet things never go your way."
|
|
|
|
La, la, la, la, la la,
|
|
La, la, la, la, la la,
|
|
That's life at Case, oh yes, that's life at Case.
|
|
|
|
Funny how the years keep rushing by us;
|
|
Deadline for your Ph.D.'s today,
|
|
With UNIX down since 1967!
|
|
And when you talk to Chuck Rose he'll still say --
|
|
|
|
"That's life at Case, my friend,
|
|
Your problems never end,
|
|
You're underpaid forever and a day.
|
|
Your budget's cut in half,
|
|
All you can do is laugh,
|
|
For you still know things never go your way!"
|
|
|
|
La, la, la, la, la la,
|
|
La, la, la, la, la la,
|
|
That's life at Case, oh yes, that's life at Case!
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : That old time PDP
|
|
Original : That old time Rock'n'Roll
|
|
Group : Bob Seger
|
|
Author : ?
|
|
Info : Unofficial theme song of the RSX/IAS SIG
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Just take that PRO down off the shelf
|
|
and let me program it by myself.
|
|
A half a meg's just fine by me,
|
|
I love that old-time PDP.
|
|
|
|
Refrain: I love that old-time PDP
|
|
The kinda CPU that sets you free.
|
|
Instruction set looks good to me.
|
|
I love that old-time PDP.
|
|
|
|
Don't try to take me to ZK.
|
|
Won't make it, I won't last a day.
|
|
I love that old-time PDP.
|
|
|
|
Refrain
|
|
|
|
Say I'm old fashioned, say I'm over the hill,
|
|
say I'm outmoded, oh say what you will.
|
|
Those new CPU's haven't got the same thrill,
|
|
I love that old-time PDP.
|
|
|
|
Refrain
|
|
|
|
You gotta balance their complexity
|
|
'gainst functionality and quality
|
|
The words are twice as long as I need,
|
|
I love that old-time PDP.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : That was the HASP my friend
|
|
Original : Those were the days my friend
|
|
Group : Mary Hopkin
|
|
Author : ? (Another Cambrigde product)
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Once upon a time there was a system
|
|
Which read and spooled and ran the printers too.
|
|
Remember how we coded up the changes,
|
|
And dreamed of all the great things we could do.
|
|
|
|
That was the HASP my friend,
|
|
There's no use to pretend,
|
|
We sang and danced and coded the night away.
|
|
We'd make the mods we choose,
|
|
We'd fight and never lose,
|
|
For we had HASP and it would lead the way.
|
|
Tra-la la-LA la-la,
|
|
Tra-la la-LA la-la,
|
|
We had the HASP and it would lead the way.
|
|
|
|
Then the busy years went rushing by us,
|
|
HASP went version two to version three.
|
|
The features and enhancements kept on coming,
|
|
From execution batch to R-J-E.
|
|
|
|
That was the HASP my friend ...
|
|
|
|
Soon the days on VS were upon us,
|
|
The future role of HASP was now in doubt.
|
|
But version four of HASP was soon to follow,
|
|
And show what virtual spooling's all about.
|
|
|
|
Yet today there looms another system,
|
|
It's more complex and difficult to grasp.
|
|
We look at M-V-S and ask the question,
|
|
Is that JES2 system really HASP?
|
|
It's really HASP my friend:
|
|
There's no use to pretend.
|
|
We'll sing and dance and code the night away.
|
|
We'll make the mods we choose,
|
|
We'll fight and never lose,
|
|
For we have HASP and it will lead the way.
|
|
Tra-la la-LA la-la,
|
|
Tra-la la-LA la-la,
|
|
We still have HASP and it will lead the way.
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Twas the Night Before Implementation
|
|
Original : Twas the Night Before Christmas
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : ?
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Twas the Night Before Implementation
|
|
|
|
Twas the Night Before Implementation, and all through the house
|
|
not a program was working, not even a browse.
|
|
The programmers hung by their tubes in despair,
|
|
with hopes that a miracle soon would be there.
|
|
The users were nestled all snug in their beds,
|
|
while visions of enhancements danced in their heads.
|
|
When out of the elevator arose such a clatter,
|
|
I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter.
|
|
And what to my wandering eyes should appear
|
|
but a super programmer (with a six pack of beer).
|
|
His resume glowed with experience so rare,
|
|
he turned out great code with a bit pushers flair.
|
|
More rapid than engines, his programs they came,
|
|
and he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
|
|
"On Update! On Add! On Inquiry! On Delete!
|
|
On Batch Job! On Closing! On Functions Complete!"
|
|
His eyes were glazed over, fingers nimble and lean,
|
|
from weekends and nights spent in front of a screen.
|
|
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
|
|
soon gave me to know that I had nothing to dread.
|
|
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
|
|
turning specs into code, then turned with a jerk,
|
|
and laying his finger upon the "enter" key,
|
|
the system came up and worked perfectly.
|
|
The updates updated, the deletes they deleted,
|
|
the inquires inquired and the closings completed.
|
|
He tested each program and tested each call,
|
|
with nary an UAE, all had gone well.
|
|
The system was finished, the tests were concluded,
|
|
the users last changes were even included.
|
|
And the user exclaimed with a snarl and a taunt,
|
|
"Its just what I asked for, BUT ITS NOT WHAT I WANT!"
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The 12 computerised days of Xmas
|
|
Original : The 12 days of Xmas
|
|
Group : Traditional
|
|
Author : (Byte 1981?)
|
|
Intro : [for the second version]
|
|
Here's another version of the Twelve Days of Christmas ...
|
|
more recent than _Byte_'s, obviously, since it's got mouses.
|
|
This sounds a lot like the original Christmas carol if you don't
|
|
pay attention. [George Sicherman <windmill!gls>]
|
|
Song : [two, actually ;-]
|
|
|
|
On the Twelfth day of Christmas ,
|
|
my computer gave to me
|
|
|
|
Twelve blown-out circuits
|
|
Eleven damaged diskettes
|
|
Ten disk-drive lockouts
|
|
Nine burnt-out fuses
|
|
Eight worthless printouts
|
|
Seven system resets
|
|
Six I/O spasms
|
|
Five Blank Cassettes
|
|
Four garbled SAVEs
|
|
Three loose plugs
|
|
Two keyboard bounces
|
|
And a glitch on the video screen
|
|
|
|
|
|
... and another version:
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Computer's Twelve Days of Christmas
|
|
|
|
My true love gave to me
|
|
Twelve plotters plotting,
|
|
Eleven printers grinding,
|
|
Ten punches jamming,
|
|
Nine nixies blinking,
|
|
Eight drums a-spinning,
|
|
Seven screens a-scrolling,
|
|
Six mice a-clicking,
|
|
Five write rings,
|
|
Four coding sheets,
|
|
Three punch cards,
|
|
Two paper tapes,
|
|
And a cartridge in a P.C.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : These are are a Few of Our Favorite Machines
|
|
Original : These are a Few of My Favorite Things
|
|
Group : Traditional
|
|
Author : Nelson Bishop <nelson@natinst.com>
|
|
Intro : This song was written about the time the Mac was first introduced.
|
|
Most of the machines mentioned were some sort of IBM PC semi-
|
|
compatible. We generally managed to port to them in time for them
|
|
to be withdrawn from the market. The memory singing refers to an
|
|
Alpha Byte memory expansion board which had an audible high pitched
|
|
whine.
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
These are are a Few of Our Favorite Machines
|
|
|
|
(To the tune of "These are a Few of My Favorite Things")
|
|
|
|
Compaqs and Lisas and hard disks with tape drives,
|
|
Sperrys and Victors and Wangs with no disk drives.
|
|
Gray IBMs with the mem'ry that sings,
|
|
These are a few of our favorite machines.
|
|
|
|
TIs and Rainbows and Dots with no futures
|
|
Trendspotter's dead, but it draws pretty pictures.
|
|
HP-150s you touch on the screens,
|
|
These are a few of out favorite machines.
|
|
|
|
Chorus:
|
|
When the bits byte, when the bugs sting,
|
|
When out code is bad,
|
|
We simply remember our favorite machines,
|
|
And then we know we've -- been had
|
|
Mainframes and micros and minis with Unix,
|
|
Networks and async and mice with some new tricks.
|
|
We get the Journal and read everything,
|
|
So we'll know which is our favorite machine.
|
|
|
|
Bright Macintoshes to purchase on credit,
|
|
We can't afford it this year so forget it.
|
|
Boss, we all need a big raise as you've seen,
|
|
So we can purchase our favorite machines.
|
|
|
|
Chorus
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Those were the Days
|
|
Original : Those were the Days
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Sarah Elizabeth Miller, Abe Friedman, and Bill Lindemann
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
Those were the Days
|
|
|
|
(to the same tune)
|
|
by Sarah Elizabeth Miller, Abe Friedman, and Bill Lindemann
|
|
|
|
|
|
Once upon a time there was a DEC tape
|
|
Where we used to store a file or two,
|
|
Where we used to while away the hours
|
|
Playing games with Barton's CPU.
|
|
|
|
Chorus:
|
|
Those were the days, my friend,
|
|
With Doctor Vandelinde
|
|
Who tried his best to make us go away.
|
|
We'd use up file space
|
|
Which he could not erase
|
|
Those were the days. Oh, yes, those were the
|
|
days.
|
|
|
|
Through the door I heard familiar laughter.
|
|
I saw you were logged in on "user.name".
|
|
Though programs have a way of disappearing,
|
|
In the core the games are still the same.
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
Monopoly and seawar are amusing
|
|
As well as maze and wumpus and the rest.
|
|
Though far away from Barton we may wander,
|
|
In our hearts its CPU's the best.
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Treekiller
|
|
Original : Painkiller
|
|
Group : Judas Priest
|
|
Author : Bri Bri <ward@math.psu.edu>
|
|
Intro : well, i was cleaning up my directory, and i found this thing, which
|
|
i sorta wrote this summer. anyway, here it is, dedicated to one of
|
|
my "favorite" users of the printer.
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
He is the Treekiller
|
|
This is the Treekiller
|
|
|
|
Faster than ethernet
|
|
Bigger than /usr/dict/words
|
|
Found in /etc/printers
|
|
Much worse than a thousand nerds
|
|
|
|
Wielding high the chainsaw
|
|
Defend us, true and brave
|
|
Why you would never know
|
|
Those trees might come back from the grave
|
|
|
|
With the Amazon in ruins
|
|
Never again to rise
|
|
You know deep inside we'll all end up fried
|
|
|
|
He is the Treekiller
|
|
This is the Treekiller
|
|
Files of megs Treekiller
|
|
No toner left, Treekiller
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The Twelve Days of Uptime
|
|
Original : The Twelve Days of Christmas
|
|
Group : Traditional
|
|
Author : Albert Corda, Richard Holmes & David Kinder
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
The Twelve Days of Uptime
|
|
|
|
(to The Twelve Days of Christmas)
|
|
by Albert Corda, Richard Holmes & David Kinder
|
|
|
|
|
|
On the twelfth day of uptime
|
|
The system gave to me:
|
|
|
|
12 stopcodes ringing,
|
|
11 LISPers losing,
|
|
10 daemons running,
|
|
9 modems dying,
|
|
8 rib blocks missing,
|
|
7 DECtapes stretching,
|
|
6 jobs a-hacking,
|
|
5 k of core
|
|
4 detached jobs
|
|
3 strtrk's,
|
|
2 cpu's
|
|
And a job stuck in run queue three.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The Underfull Badness Blues
|
|
Original : Do Run Run
|
|
Group : Beach Boys (?)
|
|
Author : Frankeye Jones
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
The Underfull Badness Blues
|
|
by
|
|
Frankeye Jones
|
|
(Sing to the tune of "Do Run Run")
|
|
|
|
I thought I put the backslashes in
|
|
I thought I did it right;
|
|
But when I tried to run the thing
|
|
The screen displayed this sight:
|
|
"Error, error, error," it said
|
|
So I've got no time to lose
|
|
My line's too long and my bracket's missing
|
|
I've got the underfull badness blues
|
|
(a-do-run-run-run, a do-run-run)
|
|
|
|
I can do most anything
|
|
With Latex as a tool
|
|
Make boxes, tables, Greek letters too
|
|
And I can alter the size of my pool
|
|
But wait! I got too excited again
|
|
It's the same old, not-good-news
|
|
My control sequences are in error again
|
|
I've got the underfull badness blues
|
|
(a-do-run-run)
|
|
|
|
My life is like a Latex run
|
|
With trials and errors each day
|
|
The fates one minute are on my side
|
|
Then they slip and slide away
|
|
I lose my keys, I'm out of Scope
|
|
I'm totally missing my cues
|
|
The cats have fleas and the water heater burst
|
|
I've got the overfull/underfull badness blues
|
|
(a-do-run-run-run, a do-run-run)
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : UNIBUS
|
|
Original : Omnibus
|
|
Group : Flanders and Swann
|
|
Author : Tony Duell <ard@siva.bris.ac.uk>
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Some choose an Atari,
|
|
Some prefer a smart HP,
|
|
Or for a Tandy TRS-80,
|
|
They'd lay them doon and dee.
|
|
Such means of computation,
|
|
seem rather dull to us
|
|
The processor and the arbitor
|
|
Of the PDP UNIBUS
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : UNIX
|
|
Original : Money
|
|
Group : Pink Floyd
|
|
Author : Jim Flanagan <flanagan@grover.stat.washington.edu>
|
|
Intro : In the spirit of the UNIX rock adaptations, I drag this out.
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
UNIX* [To the tune of _Money_ by Pink Floyd]
|
|
----
|
|
|
|
UNIX, it's a gas;
|
|
grab that VAX with
|
|
both hands and
|
|
make it crash.
|
|
|
|
UNIX, it's a hit;
|
|
Don't give me that
|
|
PC DOS Bullshit.
|
|
|
|
I'm into well benchmarked
|
|
POSIX Open Systems
|
|
I think I need a RISC chip.
|
|
|
|
UNIX, jmp back;
|
|
I'm all niced now
|
|
pop your frame off of
|
|
my stack.
|
|
|
|
---
|
|
*UNIX is a trademark of AT&T
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Unix Man
|
|
Original : Nowhere Man
|
|
Group : Beatles
|
|
Author : Brad Morrison <brad@Sugar.NeoSoft.com>
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
UNIX Man (to The Beatles' "Nowhere Man")
|
|
--------
|
|
|
|
He's a real UNIX Man
|
|
Sitting in his UNIX LAN
|
|
Making all his UNIX .plans
|
|
For nobody
|
|
|
|
Knows the blocksize from 'du'
|
|
Cares not where /dev/null goes to
|
|
Isn't he a bit like you
|
|
And me?
|
|
|
|
UNIX Man, don't worry
|
|
It's the tube that's blurry
|
|
UNIX Man
|
|
The new kernel boots, just like you had planned
|
|
|
|
He's as wise as he can be
|
|
Programs in lex, yacc and C
|
|
UNIX Man, can you help me
|
|
At all?
|
|
|
|
UNIX Man, please listen
|
|
My printout is missin'
|
|
UNIX Man
|
|
The wo-o-o-orld is your 'at' command
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Unix Quandry
|
|
Original : Dirty Laundry
|
|
Group : Don Henley
|
|
Author : Rich Kulawiec <rsk@gynko.circ.upenn.edu>
|
|
Intro : sometime in 1986 or so; address at the time was pucc-j!rsk;
|
|
current address is rsk@gynko.circ.upenn.edu
|
|
with apologies to Don Henley for appropriating "Dirty Laundry"
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Unix Quandry
|
|
|
|
|
|
I make my living off the Unix news,
|
|
Just give me something that I can use.
|
|
Users love it when they lose,
|
|
They love Unix quandries.
|
|
|
|
Well I could have been a hacker,
|
|
But I wound up here.
|
|
I just have to look good,
|
|
I don't have to be clear.
|
|
Come and whisper in my ear,
|
|
We need Unix quandries.
|
|
|
|
Use 'em when they're up,
|
|
Boot 'em when they're down.
|
|
Use 'em when they're up,
|
|
Boot 'em when they're down.
|
|
Use 'em when they're up,
|
|
Boot 'em when they're down.
|
|
Use 'em when they're up,
|
|
Kick 'em all around.
|
|
|
|
We got the bubble-headed bimbies,
|
|
Log on at five,
|
|
They can tell about the last crash,
|
|
With a gleam in their eye(s).
|
|
It's int'resting when sessions die,
|
|
Give us Unix quandries.
|
|
Can we film the operators?
|
|
Are the heads dead yet?
|
|
Y'know the boys in the staffroom,
|
|
Got a running bet.
|
|
Read the manual on tset,
|
|
We need Unix quandries.
|
|
|
|
You don't really need to find out
|
|
What's going on,
|
|
You don't want to know just
|
|
How far it's gone,
|
|
Just leave well enough alone,
|
|
Keep your Unix quandries.
|
|
|
|
Use 'em when they're up,
|
|
Boot 'em when they're down.
|
|
Use 'em when they're up,
|
|
Boot 'em when they're down.
|
|
Use 'em when they're up,
|
|
Boot 'em when they're down.
|
|
Kick 'em where they sit,
|
|
Kick 'em all around.
|
|
|
|
Dirty little disk packs,
|
|
Dirty little drives,
|
|
We got our fingers in ev'rybody's pies,
|
|
We love to shut you down (first prize),
|
|
We love Unix quandries.
|
|
|
|
We can do the innuendo,
|
|
We can dance and sing.
|
|
When it's all over we haven't
|
|
Told you a thing.
|
|
We all know 'bout rebooting,
|
|
Give us Unix quandries.
|
|
|
|
Use 'em when they're up,
|
|
Boot 'em when they're down.
|
|
Use 'em when they're up,
|
|
Boot 'em when they're down.
|
|
Use 'em when they're up,
|
|
Boot 'em when they're down.
|
|
Use 'em when they're up,
|
|
Kick 'em all around.
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Unix Wizard
|
|
Original : Pinball Wizard
|
|
Group : The Who
|
|
Author : Jamie Mason <jmason2@gpu.utcs.utoronto.ca>
|
|
Additions by Wayne Throop <...!mcnc!aurgate!throop>
|
|
Intro : I also found this thing which I sorta wrote this summer. This is
|
|
dedicated to all those weary Unix hacks who spend their entire
|
|
waking lives stuffing /dev/tty??'s clist so that processes have
|
|
something to read. :-)
|
|
[JM]
|
|
It seems to me this can be improved quite a bit, to make it scan
|
|
better with the score, and such. "I have a modest example here."
|
|
[WT]
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
Unix Wizard
|
|
|
|
Ever since I heard of Unix
|
|
I've always had a ball,
|
|
From SunOS to Minix
|
|
I must have run 'em all
|
|
But I ain't seen nothing like him
|
|
On systems large or small
|
|
That tired, squinting, blind kid
|
|
Sure makes a mean sys call!
|
|
|
|
He sits like a statue,
|
|
Becomes part of the machine,
|
|
Feeling all the limits,
|
|
Knows what the signals mean
|
|
Hacks by intuition
|
|
His process never stalls,
|
|
That tired, squinting blind kid
|
|
Sure makes a mean sys call!
|
|
|
|
He a Unix Wizard,
|
|
I just can't get the gist
|
|
A Unix wizard's
|
|
Got such a mental twist
|
|
|
|
How do you think he does it?
|
|
I don't know!
|
|
What makes him so good?
|
|
|
|
Ain't got no distractions
|
|
Don't hear no beeps or bells
|
|
Don't see no lights a flashin'
|
|
Ignores his sense of smell
|
|
Patches running kernels
|
|
Dumps no core at all,
|
|
That tired, squinting and blind kid
|
|
Sure makes a mean sys call!
|
|
|
|
I thought I was
|
|
The process table king,
|
|
But I just handed
|
|
My root password to him.
|
|
|
|
Even on my favorite boxen,
|
|
His hacks can beat my best.
|
|
The network leads him in,
|
|
And he just does the rest.
|
|
He's got crazy Finger servers
|
|
Never will seg-fault...
|
|
That tired, squinting blind kid
|
|
Sure makes a mean sys call!
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : VAX Raphosdy
|
|
Original : Bohemian Rhapsody
|
|
Group : Queen
|
|
Author : Russell Street <russells@ccu1.aukuni.ac.nz>
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
VAX Raphosdy
|
|
------------
|
|
Is this the real login:?
|
|
Is it a trap?
|
|
Caught on a terminal
|
|
No escape from the committee
|
|
|
|
|
|
Open your mail
|
|
Look up to the skies
|
|
And see...
|
|
|
|
I'm just a poor hacker,
|
|
I need no sympathy
|
|
Because I'm easy come, easy go
|
|
Little high, little low
|
|
|
|
Hit me where the wind blows,
|
|
Doesn't really matter to me, to me
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Momma, just killed a VAX
|
|
Type a command into the shell,
|
|
Hit RETURN, now it's dead
|
|
Momma, my account had just begun
|
|
And now I've gone and thrown it all away
|
|
Momma, didn't mean to make you crash
|
|
If I'm not back on this time tomorrow
|
|
Hack on, hack on as if nothing really matters
|
|
|
|
|
|
Too late -- my time has come
|
|
Sent shivers down my spine
|
|
Bodies aching all the time
|
|
Goodbye everybody, I've got to go
|
|
Got to leave you all behind and face the truth
|
|
|
|
Momma, (every way the wind blows)
|
|
I don't wanna kicked off,
|
|
I sometimes wish I'd never logged on at all
|
|
|
|
...
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Waiting for The Sun
|
|
Original : Waiting for The Sun
|
|
Group : The Doors
|
|
Author : Jamie Mason <jmason2@gpu.utcs.utoronto.ca>
|
|
Intro : This one is dedicated to all you folks who have inadequate, slow
|
|
computing facilties. (We don't! We just got an upgrade! :-)
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
Waiting for the Sun (by Jamie Mason, to the Doors tune of the same name)
|
|
-------------------
|
|
|
|
At first flash of daylight,
|
|
We're still hacking in C.
|
|
Sitting there
|
|
Bashing one last Bug
|
|
|
|
Waiting for the Sun,
|
|
Waiting for the Sun,
|
|
Waiting for the Sun.
|
|
|
|
Can't you feel it,
|
|
Now that work is due,
|
|
That it's time to
|
|
Fight for some CPU
|
|
|
|
Waiting for the Sun,
|
|
Waiting for the Sun,
|
|
Waiting for the Sun.
|
|
|
|
Waiting for the Sun.
|
|
|
|
Waiting... Waiting... Waiting... Waiting...
|
|
Waiting... Waiting... Waiting... Waiting...
|
|
|
|
Waiting for Make is
|
|
Such a bore.
|
|
Waiting for a.out to
|
|
Stop dumping core...
|
|
Waiting for some cycles
|
|
All day long.
|
|
Waiting for adb to tell me what went wrong.
|
|
|
|
This is the strangest
|
|
Bug I've ever known.
|
|
|
|
Can't you feel it,
|
|
Now that work is due,
|
|
That it's time to fight
|
|
For some CPU
|
|
|
|
Waiting for the Sun,
|
|
Waiting for the Sun,
|
|
Waiting for the Sun.
|
|
|
|
Waiting for the Sun.
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : VMUNIX Blues
|
|
Original : The Deep Elem Blues
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Andy Tannenbaum
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
tm
|
|
VMUNIX Blues
|
|
|
|
|
|
(c) 1982 by Andy Tannenbaum
|
|
(to the tune of The Deep Elem Blues)
|
|
Profits to go to the Smithsonian
|
|
Hacker Folk Music Archive.
|
|
|
|
|
|
When you bring up VMUNIX,
|
|
Just to have a little fun,
|
|
You'd better have your Western License,
|
|
When the Board of Regents come.
|
|
|
|
Chorus:
|
|
Oh, sweet mama, hacker's got the VMUNIX Blues,
|
|
Oh, sweet mama, hacker's got the VMUNIX Blues.
|
|
|
|
Once I met a pinstripe,
|
|
Knew his doubly nested do,
|
|
He logged in to VMUNIX,
|
|
Now his FORTRAN days are through.
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
When you debug a C program,
|
|
Don't know what the hell to do,
|
|
Segmentation violation,
|
|
It's a structure pointer screw.
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
It comes time to clean up shit work,
|
|
You type r m foo space star,
|
|
By the time you realize it,
|
|
You won't know where those files are.
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
When you run on an eleven,
|
|
With a quarter meg of core,
|
|
And some loser cranks an nroff,
|
|
There ain't no response no more.
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
Ar as at,
|
|
Bc dc adb,
|
|
Df du dd,
|
|
It don't mean a thing to me.
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
When you argue with a netnews flamer,
|
|
Be prepared to lose,
|
|
Because that burnt out flamer's got,
|
|
The VMUNIX Blues,
|
|
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The Wall 2
|
|
Original : The Wall
|
|
Group : Pink Floyd
|
|
Author : Nathan Torkington <gnat@kauri.vuw.ac.nz>
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Another User in the Wall Part 1"
|
|
|
|
Root has flown across the ocean
|
|
Leaving just a memory
|
|
Coredumps from /bin ls
|
|
Root, what else did you leave for me?
|
|
Root, what'd'ja leave behind for me?!
|
|
All in all, you were just a pain in the ass,
|
|
All in all, we are all just pains in the ass.
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Another Brick in the Wall part 2"
|
|
|
|
{\lead}
|
|
We don't need no pull-down-menus
|
|
We don't need no rescaled fonts
|
|
No dark icons in the corner
|
|
Hackers, leave those Macs alone.
|
|
Hey! Hackers! Leave them Macs alone!
|
|
All in all it's just another WIMP up for sale
|
|
All in all you're just another WIMP up for the sale.
|
|
|
|
{\kids}
|
|
We don't need no fancy windows
|
|
We don't need no title bars
|
|
No MultiFinder in the startup
|
|
Hackers leave them Macs alone
|
|
Hey! Hackers! Leave them Macs alone!
|
|
All in all it's just another WIMP up for sale
|
|
All in all you're just another WIMP up for sale.
|
|
|
|
{\guitar}
|
|
|
|
"Another Brick In the Wall Part 3"
|
|
|
|
I don't need no mice around me
|
|
And I don't need no fonts to calm me.
|
|
I have seen the writing on the wall.
|
|
Don't think I need any WIMP at all.
|
|
No! Don't think I need any WIMP at all.
|
|
No! Don't think I'll need any WIMP at all.
|
|
All in all it was all just bricks in the wall.
|
|
All in all you were all just bricks in the wall.
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : What is a Hacker?
|
|
Original : What is a DJ?
|
|
Group : Spike Jones
|
|
Author : Russell Street <russells@ccu1.aukuni.ac.nz>
|
|
Intro : [longish - sth]
|
|
Sometime ago I recorded from a radio programme a Spike Jones
|
|
recording "What is a DJ?". I think it was recorded in the
|
|
50's -- it includes a reference to televison advertising stealing
|
|
from radio.
|
|
It has only recently occured to me that it is perfect for
|
|
adapting to describe the "hacker". Above is my first
|
|
attempt to do this, along with the original (below)
|
|
Unfortunately I can not find out who actually wrote it or when.
|
|
The only information that the announcer gave was that it was
|
|
a Spike Jones recording, and it was only released once.
|
|
|
|
I have only changed the words to suit computer ideas,
|
|
keeping with the original flow, patterns and concepts.
|
|
Any suggestions this could improve this are welcomed.
|
|
|
|
|
|
The original recording has some organ music that flows with
|
|
and emphasis the way it is read. It is difficult to reproduce
|
|
this in text. Most of this is to do with the speed at which
|
|
it is spoken.
|
|
|
|
|
|
The original:
|
|
|
|
|
|
What is a DJ?
|
|
-------------
|
|
|
|
Between the commercialism of the sponsor, and the innocence
|
|
of the radio audience we find a delightful creature called
|
|
the Disc Jockey.
|
|
|
|
Disc Jockeys come in assorted sizes, weights and colours. But
|
|
all disc Jockeys have the same creed: to fill every minute of
|
|
every hour of every day with records and commercials. And to
|
|
protest with noise, their only weapon, when the last programme
|
|
has finished and the radio sponsor switches his interest to
|
|
television.
|
|
|
|
Disc Jockeys are found everywhere -- radio stations, golf courses,
|
|
advertising agencies, underneath, inside of, climbing on, swinging
|
|
from, running away to, on top of **OLD SMOKY**.
|
|
|
|
Mothers ignore them, little girls don't understand them,
|
|
older sisters tolerate them, adults HA! Heaven and the
|
|
advertising agencies protect them.
|
|
|
|
A disc jockey is truth with a script in his hand, beauty with
|
|
a bloodshot voice, wisdom with a cut of the profits, and the
|
|
hope of the sponsor with a frog in his throat.
|
|
|
|
When you are busy a disc jockey is a inconsiderate, bothersome,
|
|
intruding jangle of noise. When you want him to play a beautiful
|
|
melodic record his brain turns to jelly. Or else he becomes
|
|
a savage sadistic jungle creature bent on destroying his Hooper
|
|
rating and himself with a brass band playing into an echo chamber.
|
|
|
|
A disc jockey is a composite. He has the brain of an adding
|
|
machine, the ulcers of a banker, the persistency of an
|
|
auctioneer, the diction of a train announcer, the subtlety of
|
|
a meat cleaver, and when he has to put a record on the turn-table
|
|
by himself he has five thumbs on each hand! <CRASH>
|
|
|
|
He likes free albums, swimming pools, Dixieland records,
|
|
cadallics, money, sponsors (in their natural habitat), free passes
|
|
and the girl-across-the-street.
|
|
|
|
He is not much for music, song sloggers, other disc Jockeys,
|
|
the sales department, engineers, and the girl-across-the-street's
|
|
husband.
|
|
|
|
Nobody else is so early to rise or to late to supper.
|
|
Nobody else gets so much fun out of old joke books, loud records,
|
|
fan mail and females. Nobody else can cram into one half hour
|
|
so many commercials about soap, falling hair, toothpaste,
|
|
deodorant, non-skid tyres and a large chunk of unknown substance.
|
|
|
|
A disc jockey is a magical creature. You can turn him off your
|
|
radio but you can't turn him off your neighbour's radio. You
|
|
can get him out of your mind, but you can't get him out of the
|
|
air. He's a bleary-eyed, syrup-voiced, fast-talking, bundle
|
|
of noise.
|
|
|
|
But, when you wake up in the morning with only the shattered
|
|
pieces of your sleep and dreams he can make you wish you'd never
|
|
been born with the two magic words:
|
|
|
|
GOOD MORNING!
|
|
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
What is a Hacker? (version 1.01)
|
|
-----------------
|
|
|
|
Adapted by Russell Street (russells@ccu1.aukuni.ac.nz)
|
|
|
|
|
|
Between the commericalism of the MSIS department, and the
|
|
innocence of the Real User we find a delightful creature
|
|
called the Computer Hacker.
|
|
|
|
Hackers come in assorted sizes, weights and colours. But
|
|
all hackers have the same creed: to fill every byte of
|
|
every disk of every machine with source code and old news.
|
|
And to protest with flames, their only weapon, when the last
|
|
process is KILLed and the computer centre switches to a
|
|
"better" computer.
|
|
|
|
Hackers are found everywhere -- univerities, colleges,
|
|
corporations, underneath, inside of, climbing on, swinging
|
|
from, running away to, on top of **VAXen**.
|
|
|
|
Management ignores them, secretaries don't understand them,
|
|
Customer Support tolerate them, administrators HA! Heaven
|
|
and the greatful user protect them.
|
|
|
|
A hacker is intelligence with a head ache, elegance with
|
|
a core dump, daring with a secure backup, and the hope of
|
|
the admin with the root password.
|
|
|
|
When you are busy a hacker is a inconsiderate, bothersome,
|
|
intruding, resource hogging process. When you want him to
|
|
solve your problem his brain turns to jelly. Or else he
|
|
becomes a savage sadistic jungle creature bent on destroying
|
|
his reputation and your data with a misplaced 'rm -r'.
|
|
|
|
A hacker is a composite. He has the brain of a adding
|
|
machine, the stealth of a thief, the percistancy of a tiger,
|
|
the resourcefulness of cracker, the subtetly of a meat cleaver.
|
|
And when he has to put a tape in a drive by himself he has
|
|
five thumbs on each hand! <CRASH>
|
|
|
|
He likes USENET access, e-mail, source code, nethack, money,
|
|
admins (in their natural habitat), free accounts and the
|
|
new-girl-in-the-operator's-room.
|
|
|
|
He is not much for paper work, code grinders, other hackers
|
|
on his machine, the MSIS department, dummy money, and the
|
|
new-girl-in-the-operator's-room's husband.
|
|
|
|
Nobody else is so late to rise or to late to supper.
|
|
Nobody else gets so much fun out of old news files, loud
|
|
records, junk food and females. Nobody else can cram into
|
|
one half hour so many requests for restores, bulk chowning,
|
|
increased disk space, more processer time, faster CPUs and
|
|
a large chunk of unknown substance.
|
|
|
|
A hacker is a magical creature. You can kick him off your
|
|
terminal but you can't kick him off your neighbour's terminal.
|
|
You can get him out of your mind, but you can't get him out of the
|
|
batch queue. He's a bleary-eyed, syrup-voiced, fast-talking, bundle
|
|
of keystrokes.
|
|
|
|
But, when you are editing, with only the shattered pieces of working
|
|
code backed up, he can make you wish you'd saved sooner with the two
|
|
magic words:
|
|
|
|
SYSTEM CRASH!
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : When I'm Sixty Four
|
|
Original : When I'm Sixty Four
|
|
Group : Beatles
|
|
Author :
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
When I'm Sixty Four
|
|
|
|
(to the same tune)
|
|
by Sarah Elizabeth Miller
|
|
|
|
|
|
When I get older, losing my hair,
|
|
Many years from now,
|
|
I will still be sittin' at a terminal,
|
|
Number crunching giving me hell,
|
|
Rewriting programs, running them through,
|
|
Logged in evermore.
|
|
I'll always be here.
|
|
I'll never leave here
|
|
'Til I'm sixty-four.
|
|
|
|
It would be dandy getting this done,
|
|
If it were correct.
|
|
But here I sit from Friday night 'til Saturday,
|
|
Sunday morning typing away.
|
|
One hundred hours all through the week,
|
|
Printouts on the floor.
|
|
I'll always be here.
|
|
I'll never leave here
|
|
'Til I'm sixty-four.
|
|
|
|
Send me a post card, drop me a line
|
|
From your graduate school.
|
|
Mail it "care of Barton Hall two-twenty-five."
|
|
Let me know if I'm still alive!
|
|
There you will find me buried beneath
|
|
Printouts by the score.
|
|
I'll always be here.
|
|
I'll never leave here
|
|
'Til I'm sixty-four.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : When I was a lad
|
|
Original : When I was a Lad
|
|
Group : Gilbert and Sullivan
|
|
Author : Tony Duell <ard@siva.bris.ac.uk>
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
When I was a lad I served a term
|
|
As office boy in a computer firm.
|
|
I cleared the bugs out, and I got to grips
|
|
With polishing the silicon on all their chips.
|
|
[With polishing the silicon on all their chips.]
|
|
I polished up that silicon so carefully
|
|
That now I am responsible for Phoenix 3.
|
|
[He polished up that silicon so carefully
|
|
That now he is responsible for Phoenix 3.]
|
|
|
|
At cleaning chips I made such a name
|
|
That a drinks pro-grammer I soon became:
|
|
I mixed soup, cola and some fizzy tea,
|
|
And when the program ran it cost 8p.
|
|
[And when...]
|
|
The users so enjoyed this Most Vile Tea
|
|
That now I am responsible for Phoenix 3.
|
|
[The users...]
|
|
|
|
At making drinks I acquired such a knack
|
|
That at operatorship I had a crack:
|
|
I did the crossword, read about foot-ball
|
|
And never tried unloading Printer 3 at all.
|
|
[And never...]
|
|
I tore off output sheets so carelessly
|
|
That now I am responsible for Phoenix 3.
|
|
[He tore...]
|
|
|
|
The users often saw me every day,
|
|
So I took on the job of a P.A.
|
|
I told the beginners of GCAL and ZED,
|
|
Or phoned up experts for their views instead.
|
|
[Or phoned...]
|
|
I passed the buck along so frequently
|
|
That now I am responsible for Phoenix 3.
|
|
[He passed...]
|
|
|
|
I worked so hard that I required a rest,
|
|
And so they got me dealing with SUGGEST:
|
|
I took three months off, turned the users sour
|
|
By claiming that I was a shortage of manpower.
|
|
[By claiming...]
|
|
I took a year off, did the C.S.T.
|
|
To learn enough to work on Phoenix 3.
|
|
[He took...]
|
|
|
|
At user-friendliness I'd made such a mess,
|
|
They got me working hard on MVS:
|
|
I made commands obscure and twice as long,
|
|
And changed the syntax so most jobs went wrong.
|
|
[And changed...]
|
|
I made such trouble they upgraded me
|
|
By making me responsible for Phoenix 3.
|
|
[He made...]
|
|
|
|
Now hackers all, whoever you may be,
|
|
If you want to do things faster than Queue D,
|
|
If your eyes are forever glued to VDUs,
|
|
Then leave the rat race and its four job queues:
|
|
[Then leave...]
|
|
Keep clear of machines, IBM or BBC,
|
|
And you may get the blame for parts of Phoenix 3!
|
|
[Keep clear...]
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : When you try to get work from the data network
|
|
Original : The Nightmare Song (When you're lying awake)
|
|
Group : Gilbert & Sullivan
|
|
Author : ? (First seen at Cambridge, England)
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
When you try to get work from the Data Net-work, and you're
|
|
tapping the keys with impatience,
|
|
It will say it's congested, your code stays untested, all users
|
|
are waiting for sessions.
|
|
For with C.I.P. errors and similar terrors the C.U.D.N. tries to
|
|
thwart you
|
|
And you hit RETURN thrice and ask friends for advice - for again
|
|
the new system has caught you,
|
|
As your password is typed out before it is wiped out (by hitting
|
|
the button marked CLEAR SCREEN),
|
|
And you hit CONTROL/P C and try to get busy at trying to conquer
|
|
the machine!
|
|
Then the system expires and you pull out the wires and you find
|
|
that the VDU's broken,
|
|
Get another one near, then walk out with a jeer for by now it
|
|
won't let any folk on!
|
|
Well at last it permits you to log on and hits you, you join all
|
|
the users in weeping,
|
|
For your session's such pain, and there's so little gain that
|
|
you'd very much better be sleeping!
|
|
|
|
For you find your UPDATEing a file, and you're waiting five
|
|
minutes for ZED to acknowledge,
|
|
While the user next door throws a fit on the floor and runs
|
|
screaming back home to his college;
|
|
And you're typing ahead as you're waiting for ZED, then refile
|
|
to a file that is GUARDed,
|
|
But forgot to say YES and you're now in a mess, as you think the
|
|
result's been discarded;
|
|
Then you try to use RUN and it's really no fun, for the
|
|
scheduler's not very clever,
|
|
And you're job's in queue D and you really can't see if it's
|
|
likely to run now, or ever.
|
|
Well you try once again and it runs right as rain, so you have a
|
|
quick look with COLLECTREAD:
|
|
The results of your look - "Standard Fixup" was took - IBM's
|
|
guess not what you expect/need!
|
|
|
|
Fortran IV you reject, as you're program's all wrecked, so you
|
|
dump all your files TLS-wise,
|
|
But the filename's too long, ARCHIVE always goes wrong, and
|
|
you're finding it's too much now, stress-wise!
|
|
So at INFO.NEW you look, feeling quite blue, and you find that
|
|
the CS has faltered:
|
|
All the keywords changed round, and you don't like the sound for
|
|
the language is terribly altered:
|
|
For it's IBM-ese, wasn't written to please, though amuses the
|
|
people who wrote it,
|
|
Each command a long word, of the like never heard, some
|
|
anomalies that you've just noted.
|
|
From your work you now rest, see INFO.SUGGEST, which no-body has
|
|
looked at for ages,
|
|
So you try SUGGEST-FILE, and ironically smile, which is better
|
|
than yielding to rages!
|
|
Now with PRINTOUT you fail, it is lost in the mail, and your
|
|
hair you are frantically tearing,
|
|
POST and ROUTE get ignored, once again you've been floored! You
|
|
log off with a shudder despairing...
|
|
|
|
You are worn out and tired, feel the chief should be fired,
|
|
For he won't sympathise, to use PHX never tries,
|
|
And you're angry and cross, with the time that is loss,
|
|
With a pain in you brain, swear "no more!" (all in vain!)
|
|
For your session's a waste, never more should be faced,
|
|
And you're nerves are all frayed, and your output's mislayed,
|
|
You can't fix it today, the adviser's away,
|
|
And you haven't been lying in clover:
|
|
|
|
But the session is past, and it's teatime at last,
|
|
And the torment's been long, ditto ditto my song,
|
|
And thank goodness they're both of them over!
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : White Collar Holler
|
|
Original : ?
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : ?
|
|
Intro : (Has been sung by several groups, including Clam Chowder)
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
Well, I rise up every morning at a quarter to eight,
|
|
Some woman who's my wife tells me not to be late.
|
|
I kiss the kids goodbye, can't remember their names,
|
|
And week after week it's always the same!
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
And it's ho, boys, can't you code it?
|
|
Program it right.
|
|
Nothing ever happens in this life of mine
|
|
I'm hauling up the data on the Xerox line.
|
|
|
|
And it's codin' the data, give the keyboard a punch,
|
|
Then cross-correlate and I break for some lunch.
|
|
Correlate, tabulate, process and screen,
|
|
Program, printout, regress to the mean,
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
Yeah, but it's home again, eat again, watch some TV,
|
|
Make love to my woman at 10:53.
|
|
I dream the same dream when I'm sleeping at night,
|
|
I'm soaring over hills like an eagle in flight!
|
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
|
Someday I'm gonna give up all the buttons and things,
|
|
I'll punch that time clock till it can't ring.
|
|
Burn up my necktie and set myself free,
|
|
Cause no one's gonna fold, bend or mutilate me
|
|
|
|
(Chorus twice)
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The Wonderful Hacker
|
|
Original : The Wonderful Toy
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Albert Corda, Richard Holmes & David Kinder
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
The Wonderful Hacker
|
|
|
|
(to The Wonderful Toy)
|
|
by Albert Corda, Richard Holmes & David Kinder
|
|
|
|
|
|
When I was a wee undergrad,
|
|
My roommate gave to me
|
|
A user name and a password, too:
|
|
8-M-J-4-X-3.
|
|
I first bombed disk,
|
|
And then dumped core,
|
|
And then slaved the cty.
|
|
And then I stole "acct.sys"
|
|
And watched the system die.
|
|
|
|
Oh, it went
|
|
|
|
-- crunch --
|
|
|
|
When it moved, and
|
|
|
|
-- boots --
|
|
|
|
When it stopped, and
|
|
|
|
-- --
|
|
|
|
When it stood still.
|
|
|
|
They never knew just who it was
|
|
And I guess they never will.
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : The Worm beore Christmas
|
|
Original : The Night Before Christmas
|
|
Group : ?
|
|
Author : Received in a mailfile on Cornell's computer network.
|
|
(Copied from m-net, Ann Arbor, MI)
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
THE WORM BEFORE CHRISTMAS
|
|
|
|
Twas the night before finals and all through the lab
|
|
Not a student was sleeping, not even McNabb.
|
|
Their projects were finished, completed with care
|
|
In hopes that the grades would be easy (and fair).
|
|
|
|
The students were wired with caffeine in their veins
|
|
While visions of quals nearly drove them insane.
|
|
With piles of books and a brand-new highlighter,
|
|
I had just settled down for another all-nighter --
|
|
|
|
When out from our gateways arose such a clatter,
|
|
I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter
|
|
Away to the console I flew like a flash
|
|
And logged on as root to fend off a crash
|
|
|
|
The windows displayed on my brand new Sun-3
|
|
Gave oodles of info -- some in 3-D.
|
|
When, what to my burning red eyes should appear
|
|
But dozens of "nobody" jobs. Oh dear!
|
|
|
|
With a blitzkrieg invasion, so virulent and firm,
|
|
I knew in a moment. It was Morris's Worm!
|
|
More rapid than eagles his processes came
|
|
And they forked and exec'd and they copied by name!
|
|
|
|
"Now Dasher! Now Dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen!
|
|
On Comet! On Cupid! On Donner and Blitzen!
|
|
To the sites in .rhosts and host.eqi
|
|
Now, dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
|
|
|
|
[ Note: the machines dasher.cs.uiuc.edu, dancer.cs.uiuc.edu,
|
|
prancer.cs.uiuc.edu, etc., have been renamed deer1, deer2,
|
|
deer3, etc., so as not to confuse the already burdened
|
|
students who use those machines. We regret that this poem
|
|
reflects the older naming scheme and hope it does not
|
|
confuse the network administrator at your site. -Ed. ]
|
|
|
|
And then in a twinkling, I heard on the phone,
|
|
The complaints of the users (thought I was alone!)
|
|
"The load is too high!" "I can't read my files!"
|
|
"I can't send my mail over miles and miles!"
|
|
|
|
I unplugged the net, and was turning around,
|
|
When the worm-ridden system went down with a bound.
|
|
I frettedI fritteredI sweatedI wept.
|
|
Then finally I core dumped the worm in /tmp.
|
|
|
|
It was smart and pervasive, a right jolly old stealth,
|
|
And I laughed when I saw it, in spite of myself.
|
|
A look at the dump of that invasive thread
|
|
Soon gave me to know we had nothing to dread.
|
|
|
|
The next day was slow with no network connections
|
|
For we wanted no more of those pesky infections.
|
|
But in spite of the news and the noise and the clatter
|
|
Soon all became normal, as if naught were the matter.
|
|
|
|
Then later that month, while all were away,
|
|
A virus came calling, and then went away.
|
|
The system then told us, when we logged in one night:
|
|
"Happy Christmas to all! (You guys aren't so bright.)"
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Write in C
|
|
Original : Let it Be
|
|
Group : Beatles
|
|
Author : <donna@nic.csu.net>
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
Write in C
|
|
|
|
|
|
When I find my code in tons of trouble,
|
|
Friends and colleagues come to me,
|
|
Speaking words of wisdom:
|
|
"Write in C."
|
|
|
|
As the deadline fast approaches,
|
|
And bugs are all that I can see,
|
|
Somewhere, someone whispers:
|
|
"Write in C."
|
|
|
|
Write in C, Write in C,
|
|
Write in C, oh, Write in C.
|
|
LOGO's dead and buried,
|
|
Write in C.
|
|
|
|
I used to write a lot of FORTRAN,
|
|
For science it worked flawlessly.
|
|
Try using it for graphics!
|
|
Write in C.
|
|
|
|
If you've just spent nearly 30 hours
|
|
Debugging some assembly,
|
|
Soon you will be glad to
|
|
Write in C.
|
|
|
|
Write in C, Write in C,
|
|
Write in C, yeah, Write in C.
|
|
Only wimps use BASIC.
|
|
Write in C.
|
|
|
|
Write in C, Write in C
|
|
Write in C, oh, Write in C.
|
|
Pascal won't quite cut it.
|
|
Write in C.
|
|
|
|
Write in C, Write in C,
|
|
Write in C, yeah, Write in C.
|
|
Don't even mention COBOL.
|
|
Write in C.
|
|
|
|
(and what about C++ ?)
|
|
|
|
|
|
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
|
|
|
|
Title : Yellow Subroutine
|
|
Original : Yellow Submarine
|
|
Group : The Beatles
|
|
Author : adrian@milton.u.washington.edu
|
|
Intro :
|
|
Song :
|
|
|
|
|
|
Yellow Subroutine
|
|
|
|
"In the town where I was born,
|
|
Lived a man, who played with 'C'.
|
|
And he coded his whole life
|
|
On a stack of Function Keys.
|
|
|
|
So we traced to his data schemes,
|
|
Til we found a 'C' routine..
|
|
And we lived beneath the SAVES,
|
|
In our yellow Sub-Routine...
|
|
|
|
Chorus:
|
|
WE ALL live in A YELLOW SUB-ROUTINE,
|
|
YELLOW SUB-ROUTINE, YELLOW SUB-ROUTINE .... (ETC)
|
|
|
|
When our friends are on the boards,
|
|
Many MODEMS RETURN NEXT:FOR
|
|
Then the BAUD RATE goes astray...
|
|
(B-B-BEEP, BEEP BEEP B-B-BEEP..)
|
|
|
|
Chorus (IF YOU CAN STAND IT!)
|
|
|
|
As we live in Memories
|
|
Every one of us Returns Linefeeds...
|
|
CPU and 'C' Routine,
|
|
In our yellow SUB-Routine...
|
|
|
|
|
|
|