h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Oh, and may I have a cup of coffee please?
*Eats a four hour fresh pretzel, delights in the lack of deterioration in virtual snack*

*jingle*

G'day JAR!

Coffee please, IIEM!

So, hows life in Horten?

Hello there One-eye

Life is currently all right. Moving to New Zealand to study Theatre get more real for every passing day. The weather is nice (not raining) and I just got offered pay for the work I'm doing. I'm happy. Are you?

JAR

*washes up and puts the v/_\3 on*

Hi BB! Wouldn't mind a cuppa..

I'm fine thanks, JAR. Overslept a bit today, though. Woke up about 9:45, had an appointment at the dentists at 8:15, showed up at work at 11:15....
But still, I'm fine!

*Pours a c)_( for One-eye*.

*floating in*

Hi all!

BB, could I have one too, please...

*Pours Titania a c)_( too...*

*sips tea*

Hi T

Wow! Excuse me, but I must really read this poem to you. Compare it with The Raven (posting no.628) and you'll see why...

Author anonymous

- - - - - - - - - -
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 bed sheets, still I sat there doing spreadsheets.
Having reached the bottom line I took a floppy from the drawer,
I then invoked the SAVE command and waited for the disk to store,
Only this and nothing more.

Deep into the monitor peering, long I sat there wond'ring, fearing,
Doubting, while the disk kept churning, turning yet to churn some more.
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token.
"Save!" I said, "You cursed mother! Save my data from before!"
One thing did the phosphors answer, only this and nothing more,
Just, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

Was this some occult illusion, some maniacal intrusion?
These were choices undesired, ones I'd never faced before.
Carefully I weighed the choices as the disk made impish noises.
The cursor flashed, insistent, waiting, baiting me to type some more.
Clearly I must press a key, choosing one and nothing more,
From "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

With fingers pale and trembling, slowly toward the keyboard bending,
Longing for a happy ending, hoping all would be restored,
Praying for some guarantee, timidly, I pressed a key.
But on the screen there still persisted words appearing as before.
Ghastly grim they blinked and taunted, haunted, as my patience wore,
Saying "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

I tried to catch the chips off guard, and pressed again, but twice as hard.
I pleaded with the cursed machine: I begged and cried and then I swore.
Now in mighty desperation, trying random combinations,
Still there came the incantation, just as senseless as before.
Cursor blinking, angrily winking, blinking nonsense as before.
Reading, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

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 a dreadful sight: a lightning bolt cut through the night.
A gasp of horror overtook me, shook me to my very core.
The lightning zapped my previous data, lost and gone forevermore.
Not even, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

To this day I do not know the place to which lost data go.
What demonic nether world us wrought where lost data will be stored,
Beyond the reach of mortal souls, beyond the ether, into black holes?
But sure as there's C, Pascal, Lotus, Ashton-Tate and more,
You will be one day be left to wander, lost on some Plutonian shore,
Pleading, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"
- - - - - - - - - - -

LOL

*applause*

Yes, it's a good one, isn't it, One-eye? And it feels kind of familiar...

Tell me about it...

it's kinda typical, though. If your working on something utterly insignificant, no problems occur. BUT, as soon as the importance of your work reaches a certain level, everything goes wrong...

well, I need more coffee. IIEM, the usual.

Oh, the wonders of modern technology! I bet the clerks of old never had a problem with data-errors. If the archive burned down, well, that was it then, but never, I say never would the books erase themselves!

Titiana, mind if I shamelessly copy/paste that poem for use and distribution (at no cost for the recipient) amongst my friends?

JAR, afraid of the computer

Oh, well. Have to dash. W*rkday over. Nice seeing you all!

*steps out of café, dodges the other pedestrians with great skill and disappears into the forest*

JAR, I found the poem (and The Raven) at

http://www.eMule.com - The Ultimate Kick-Ass Information Database

Check it to see if they say anything about distributing their poems...

You know, I've never gotten an error message like that... must be because I use a Mac...

Hello all

IIEM, Cuban coffee please, splash of cream.

How is everybody on this last day of August?
(here anyway)

Just dandy! It's a great day! Though not as sunny as it would be in Phoenix...

Anonymous author:

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.

Good night all!

*drifting off in her usual v.e.l.manner*