The Loony Bin
(
loonies@bloodaxe.demon.co.uk
)
Wed, 8 May 1996 14:02:32 +0100
Hiya Loonies...
Hmmm...this stuff is getting stranger by the day...
Wishes & Dreams...
- ANDREA
xx
--
************<andrea@bloodaxe.demon.co.uk>************
******************<ajc6@ukc.ac.uk>*******************
*** ***
*** THE LOONY BIN ***
*** loonies@bloodaxe.demon.co.uk ***
*** ***
******************Internet Goddess*******************
*********************ANDROMEDA***********************
------- Forwarded message follows -------
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.
----
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
-----------
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.
---
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
--
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!
Waiting for the Sun (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.
---
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
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
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.