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

Painfully early I sit at my desk, alone. The lights are still out in the hall. Each individual worker's cube casts a wan, shadow-banishing light like so many pyres along a midway.

The AS/400ii high availability fail-over was aligned with the data hub at 4:00AM EST. Which means waking at 3:30AM. Driving past the drunken police, swearing and beating the steering wheel. Stumble a package of freeze-dried coffee grinds into a filter - apply hot water. Sugar and dust creamer stuff. Gulp.

The system is still offline. The damn web ops fuckers arrived late as usual, so the mimix lines still hang limp and disconnected. The as/400 production emulators aren't connecting due to the libraries residing in the now defunct fail-over system. It's difficult to attach to libraries that don't exist anymore.

Gulp.

"Music to Make Love to Your Old Lady By" An amazing cd. Handsome Boy Modeling School. Teatime with Mefesio plays through my headphones. I am trying to transcribe a word breakdown of the scene 3 rethink into the primary visual list.

Gulp. Slurp. (I alternate with water)

Everyone's starting to arrive, bitching about work and how much they hate the inevitable corporate bullshit that came in the night and took away their "secure jobs."

Time to make more coffee.

What? This is a journal entry right? Useless prattling about topics that interest only myslef. Classic H2G2. Classic.

-Lampadas

Lamp,
Your name is the world in a Dune book, not even a real person. For a planet you certainly do bitch a lot.

I can't even begin to entertain the reason why I continue to resurface at this site, posting this nonsense. This thing was around long before Blogs became "The Hip Thing to Do." and it will be around long afterward. I think the basic reason is that the western world exalts the specialist. The person who knows more about a subject than most other commoners. Therein lies the genus of H2G2. Not only can the people that post articles on this site pretend that they know something about a topic, they can trick themselves into believing that they are experts - and not only that, there is a support system of built-in sycophantry that helps perpetuate these feelings of grandeur. It's a remarkable way to inflate the egos of people who are dangerously close to auto-worship, making them stick around for ads to pop up in their faces.

Truly amazing, but who am I to point at the vanity of others. I named myself after a planet...
-Lampadas