"Santa Claus Is Coming To Town" written by Richard Alpert 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 } better !pout !cry better watchout lpr why santa claus < north pole > town ************************************************************************ 'Twas the Night Before Start-up' STATUS OF THIS MEMO This memo discusses problems that arise and debugging techniques used in bringing a new network into operation. Distribution of this memo is unlimited. DISCUSSION Twas the night before start-up and all through the net, not a packet was moving; no bit nor octet. The engineers rattled their cards in despair, hoping a bad chip would blow with a flare. The salesmen were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of data nets danced in their heads. And I with my datascope tracings and dumps prepared for some pretty bad bruises and lumps. When out in the hall there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter. There stood at the threshold with PC in tow, An ARPANET hacker, all ready to go. I could see from the creases that covered his brow, he'd conquer the crisis confronting him now. More rapid than eagles, he checked each alarm and scrutinized each for its potential harm. On LAPB, on OSI, X.25! TCP, SNA, V.35! His eyes were afire with the strength of his gaze; no bug could hide long; not for hours or days. A wink of his eye and a twitch of his head, soon gave me to know I had little to dread. He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, fixing a net that had gone plumb berserk; And laying a finger on one suspect line, he entered a patch and the net came up fine! The packets flowed neatly and protocols matched; the hosts interfaced and shift-registers latched. He tested the system from Gateway to PAD; not one bit was dropped; no checksum was bad. At last he was finished and wearily sighed and turned to explain why the system had died. I twisted my fingers and counted to ten; an off-by-one index had done it again... - Vint Cerf, December 1985 ************************************************************************ "The 12 Levels of Rogue" - by D M Goldstein, 1988 (to the tune of "The 12 Days of Christmas") On the first level of Rogue I killed a Dwarf, a bat, and a Kobold who almost killed me! On the 2nd level of Rogue I found a Shimmering Pool! I dipped my Broad Sword, 'cause a Kobold had nearly killed me! On the 3rd level of Rogue I read a Scroll of Sleep. I slept for three turns with my plus-two Broad Sword 'cause a Kobold had nearly killed me! On the 4th level of Rogue I found a Staff of Wood. Four shots of Drain Life! Sleeping for three turns, a plus-two Broad Sword, and a Kobold who almost killed me! On the 5th level of Rogue I got really lucky: Five Magic Rings! Four shots of Drain Life, Sleep three turns, a plus-two Broad Sword, and a Kobold who almost killed me! On the 6th level of Rogue a Shrieker called to me Six elves with Cross-Bows! Five Magic Rings! Four shots of Drain Life, sleep three turns, a plus-two Broad Sword, and a Kobold who almost killed me! On the 7th level of Rogue I killed a Troglodyte; Seven Excellent Hits! Six elves with Cross-Bows, Five Magic Rings! ... On the 8th level of Rogue I found a Magic Room with Eight Monsters Waiting! Seven Excellent hits, ... On the 9th level of Rogue a Rust Monster found me, brought my armor to Nine! Eight Monsters Waiting, ... On the 10th level of Rogue I quaffed a red potion, Experience Level Ten! Level Nine armor, ... On the 11th level of Rogue I took Inventory: Eleven Rations of Food, Experience Level Ten, ... On the 12th level of Rogue I fell into a Trap: Got Killed on level Thirty with Eleven rations of food, ... *************************************************************** Ah, the quintessential Christmas gift for young minds: The Computer! And what's better to do with it but PLAY GAMES! "Computer Wonderland" - by D M Goldstein 1983 (to the tune of "Winter Wonderland") Axes swing, are you listenin'? Gold and jewels, how they glisten. A beautiful sight, ADVENTURE at night, playing in Computer Wonderland. (Bridge:) In the KINGDOM we can feed the peasants, or plot our BIORYTHM for a year; Save the universe from Cylons playing STARTREK, or even try BACKGAMMON if you dare. Later on, we'll play WUMPUS; Zing those bats when they thump us. OTHELLO's just fine, I win every time, playing in Computer Wonderland. *************************************************************** "The Worm Before Christmas" by Clement C. Morris (a.k.a. David Bradley, Betty Cheng, Hal Render, Greg Rogers, and Dan LaLiberte) 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 in 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'ed 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.equiv Now, dash away! dash away! dash away all!" ( Note: The machines dasher.cs.uiuc.edu, dancer.cs.uiuc.ed, 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 adminstrator 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 fretted. I frittered. I sweated. I 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.)" ( Note: The authors would like to apologize to Dave McNabb for any detrimental references to his sleeping habits or lack thereof. Unfortunately, they couldn't think of anything else that rhymes with "lab". -Ed. ) *************************************************************** For the first bug of Christmas, my manager said to me See if they can do it again. For the second bug of Christmas, my manager said to me Ask them how they did it and See if they can do it again. For the third bug of Christmas, my manager said to me Try to reproduce it Ask them how they did it and See if they can do it again. For the fourth bug of Christmas, my manager said to me Run with the debugger Try to reproduce it Ask them how they did it and See if they can do it again. For the fifth bug of Christmas, my manager said to me Ask for a dump Run with the debugger Try to reproduce it Ask them how they did it and See if they can do it again. For the sixth bug of Christmas, my manager said to me Reinstall the software Ask for a dump Run with the debugger Try to reproduce it Ask them how they did it and See if they can do it again. For the seventh bug of Christmas, my manager said to me Say they need an upgrade Reinstall the software Ask for a dump Run with the debugger Try to reproduce it Ask them how they did it and See if they can do it again. For the eighth bug of Christmas, my manager said to me Find a way around it Say they need an upgrade Reinstall the software Ask for a dump Run with the debugger Try to reproduce it Ask them how they did it and See if they can do it again. For the ninth bug of Christmas, my manager said to me Blame it on the hardware Find a way around it Say they need an upgrade Reinstall the software Ask for a dump Run with the debugger Try to reproduce it Ask them how they did it and See if they can do it again. For the tenth bug of Christmas, my manager said to me Change the documentation Blame it on the hardware Find a way around it Say they need an upgrade Reinstall the software Ask for a dump Run with the debugger Try to reproduce it Ask them how they did it and See if they can do it again. For the eleventh bug of Christmas, my manager said to me Say it's not supported Change the documentation Blame it on the hardware Find a way around it Say they need an upgrade Reinstall the software Ask for a dump Run with the debugger Try to reproduce it Ask them how they did it and See if they can do it again. For the twelfth bug of Christmas, my manager said to me Tell them it's a feature Say it's not supported Change the documentation Blame it on the hardware Find a way around it Say they need an upgrade Reinstall the software Ask for a dump Run with the debugger Try to reproduce it Ask them how they did it and See if they can do it again. *************************************************************** From: ajs@hpfcajs.fc.hp.com (Alan Silverstein) Date: Sat, 25 Dec 93 3:20:02 EST Subject: why not... Newsgroups: rec.humor.funny This is new and original. But is it art? T'was the Night For Parodizing T'was the night before Christmas and all through the Net, The hackers took time out to try to play poet. Each one began with the same old refrain, Thinking their take-off would yield instant fame. The many Net readers were snug in their beds, While megabyte echoes flowed in their heads. When out in a newsgroup appeared yet another, Ridiculous rewrite -- not funny, why bother? Then what to your wandering eyes did appear, But a meta-rendition, its message quite clear. True humor is something that seems to be rare, And hackneyed variation is absent of flair. It's fun to play poet, but often quite lame, Even so, all the hackers keep playing this game. On VAXes! And HPs! And Commodores sweet! On IBMs! PCs! With fingers and feet! The many Net readers' eyes quickly glaze over, At every new posting that seems a leftover. A wink of their eye and a twitch of their finger, Your prose goes to /dev/null -- no reader does linger. Except of course newbies, who find it all novel, Quite funny, exciting, and not at all drivel. They save every nibble and exclaim to the sky, "Just wait till they see my ingenious reply!" -- embarrassed to admit I wrote this, Alan Silverstein, 931221 *************************************************************** 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!" *************************************************************** The Exon Song by Kevin Hinshaw (hinshaw@cs.washington.edu) [With all the recent commotion about net censorship, and with the approach of the holiday season, I was inspired to write this song for our department's annual holiday party skit.] Sex nuts posting on an open wire Sick thoughts dripping from their prose Dirty pictures showing young girls for hire And men dressed up in women's clothes Everybody knows That mountains of pornography Have been appearing left and right Tiny tots with their eyes all a-glow May find the ones with sheep tonight We know that Satan's on the Net Along with all the creeps and perverts he could get Enticing every child to try his luck At finding pictures of people who fundamentally undermine the morals of society And so I'm offering this simple phrase To kids from one to ninety-two; Although it's been said many times, many ways "Let us censor for you." *************************************************************** _Happily Addicted to the Web --------------------------- (to the tune of "Winter Wonderland") Doorbell rings, I'm not list'nin', From my mouth, drool is glist'nin', I'm happy--although My boss let me go-- Happily addicted to the Web. All night long, I sit clicking, Unaware time is ticking, There's beard on my cheek, Same clothes for a week, Happily addicted to the Web. Friends come by; they shake me, Saying, "Yo, man! Don't you know tonight's the senior prom?" With a listless shrug, I mutter, "No, man; I just discovered letterman-dot-com!" I don't phone, don't send faxes, Don't go out, don't pay taxes, Who cares if someday They drag me away? I'm happily addicted to the Web! The Bill Gates Song ------------------- (to the tune of "The Christmas Song") Netscape roasting on an open fire, Apple begging on its knees, Photo popping up on Time magazine, Yes, Bill Gates dreams of days like these! Everybody knows he's never fully satisfied, Throws himself behind each task, World dominion is his company's goal. Well, hey, is that so much to ask? He knows the world is in his sway, We'll buy whatever software he might toss our way, We'll surf his Internet, watch his TV, He'll take us anywhere we ask him--for a fee. And so we're offering this simple prayer, To Bill and all his MS grunts: Since we all follow any standard you write, Make it good, please, Make it good, please, Make it good, please, just once! Microsoft --------- (to the tune of "Jingle Bells" starting with "dashing thru the snow...") Nine-tenths of a gig, Biggest ever seen, Man, this program's big-- MS Word 15! Comes on ten CDs, And requires--dang! Word is fine, but jeez-- 60 megs of RAM?! Oh! Microsoft, Microsoft, Bloatware all the way! I've sat here installing Word Since breakfast yesterday! Oh! Microsoft, Microsoft, Moderation, please. Guess you hadn't noticed: Four-gig drives don't grow on trees! I'm Dreaming of a Clean System ------------------------------- (to the tune of "White Christmas") I'm dreaming of a clean System, Something that fits on one CD. Each component matches, Not bits and patches, Unlike 7-5-point-3. I'm longing for a dream System, Small, stable, fast, and trouble-free. What we want, I think you'll agree, Is called System 6-point-oh-3! Violent Night ------------- (to the tune of "Silent Night") Silent Mac, broken Mac! System bombed, screen went black. Books suggested things; I tried 'em all: Shift key, desktop file, clean reinstall. Now my deadline is tight, This Mac's been silent all night. Violent night, horrible night! Lost my cool, filled with spite, Threw my Mac through the balcony door Watched it fall from the 20th floor, Now I'm sleeping in peace; Thanks, I had it on lease. Prove It's So! -------------- (to the tune of "Let It Snow") Oh, the papers say Apple's dying, But before we start good-byeing, We should call them all up and go, "Prove it's so! Prove it's so! Prove it's so!" They say "Mac OS software's scarcer." We say, "Read those numbers, there, sir, Sales continued this year to grow. There ya go, there ya go, there ya go!" When they tell us Win 95 Made the Mac's famed advantages ebb, We'll say, "Why, then, do Macs now drive 60 percent of the Web?" We can win our PR reversal-- Make the Mac be universal-- Though we may have some years to go, Make it so, make it so, make it so! Gil Amelio's Coming to Town! ---------------------------- (to the tune of "Santa Claus Is Coming to Town") You better watch out, Absurd as it sounds, 'Cause Apple's about To lose a few pounds-- Gil Amelio's coming to town! He's making a list, And trimming the rolls Of projects that missed Their revenue goals-- Gil Amelio's coming to town! He knows what's losing money, Like eWorld, PowerTalk . . . You'd better make your project work Or prepare to take a walk! Though you follow his lead Right out the back door, You know he'll succeed-- He's done it before! Gil Amelio's coming to town! God Rest Ye Copland Programmers ------------------------------- (to the tune of "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen") God rest ye Copland programmers, It's finally Christmas Day. You've all worked 20-hour shifts Beginning back in May. No wonder after such neglect Your spouses moved away. The last real meal you had Was late last year-- That's what we hear; And since then you've lived on Pizza, Coke, and beer. Your bosses change, and change their minds, Is Copland off or on? Are last week's OS plans in place Or now completely gone? God rest ye well this Christmas Day, You'd better sleep in late-- It's the last sleep you'll get till '98. Isn't that great? It's the last day off you'll have till '98! *************************************************************** Inspired by Sprintlink's service, and written by 3 very creative guys: (To the tune of "Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow") (apologies to whoever wrote the real song) Oh, the network outside is frightful, But on campus, it's so delightful, Our packets have nowhere to go, Net is slow, net is slow, net is slow. It doesn't show signs of stopping, All our packets, our hosts are dropping; Bandwidth is turned way down low, Net is slow, net is slow, net is slow. When we finally connect to a site, It's time to go back to the dorm; But if I could stay here all night, I could submit their Web form. The network is slowly dying, And, I fear, we're still denying, But as long as Sprint is the way to go, Net is slow, net is slow, net is slow. -(new lyrics by kube, bhchan, ekim, & norby) kube@csua.berkeley.edu bhchan@csua.berkeley.edu ekim@csua.berkeley.edu norby@csua.berkeley.edu