|Linux Songs Poems: 172 of 719|
Graphics blind the eyes.
Audio files deafen the ear.
Mouse clicks numb the fingers.
Heuristics weaken the mind.
Options wither the heart.
The Guru observes the net
but trusts his inner vision.
He allows things to come and go.
His heart is as open as the ether.
|Linux Songs Poems: 173 of 719|
H: If a 'GOBLIN (HOB) waylays you,
Slice him up before he slays you.
Nothing makes you look a slob
Like running from a HOB'LIN (GOB).
-- The Roguelet's ABC
|Linux Songs Poems: 174 of 719|
Hack placidly amidst the noisy printers and remember what prizes there
may be in Science. As fast as possible get a good terminal on a good system.
Enter your data clearly but always encrypt your results. And listen to others,
even the dull and ignorant, for they may be your customers. Avoid loud and
aggressive persons, for they are sales reps.
If you compare your outputs with those of others, you may be surprised,
for always there will be greater and lesser numbers than you have crunched.
Keep others interested in your career, and try not to fumble; it can be a real
hassle and could change your fortunes in time.
Exercise system control in your experiments, for the world is full of
bugs. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive
for linearity and everywhere papers are full of approximations. Strive for
proportionality. Especially, do not faint when it occurs. Neither be cyclical
about results; for in the face of all data analysis it is sure to be noticed.
Take with a grain of salt the anomalous data points. Gracefully pass
them on to the youth at the next desk. Nurture some mutual funds to shield
you in times of sudden layoffs. But do not distress yourself with imaginings
-- the real bugs are enough to screw you badly. Murphy's Law runs the
Universe -- and whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt <Curl>B*n dS = 0.
Therefore, grab for a piece of the pie, with whatever proposals you
can conceive of to try. With all the crashed disks, skewed data, and broken
line printers, you can still have a beautiful secretary. Be linear. Strive
to stay employed.
-- Technolorata, "Analog", Dr. Arlan Keith Andrews, Sr.
|Linux Songs Poems: 175 of 719|
"Had he and I but met
By some old ancient inn, But ranged as infantry,
We should have sat us down to wet And staring face to face,
Right many a nipperkin! I shot at him as he at me,
And killed him in his place.
I shot him dead because --
Because he was my foe, He thought he'd 'list, perhaps,
Just so: my foe of course he was; Off-hand-like -- just as I --
That's clear enough; although Was out of work -- had sold his traps
No other reason why.
Yes; quaint and curious war is!
You shoot a fellow down
You'd treat, if met where any bar is
Or help to half-a-crown."
-- Thomas Hardy
|Linux Songs Poems: 176 of 719|
Half a bee, philosophically, must ipso facto half not be.
But half the bee has got to be, vis-a-vis its entity. See?
But can a bee be said to be or not to be an entire bee,
When half the bee is not a bee, due to some ancient injury?
|Linux Songs Poems: 177 of 719|
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way.
-- Pink Floyd
|Linux Songs Poems: 178 of 719|
Hard Copies and Chmod
And everyone thinks computers are impersonal
cold diskdrives hardware monitors
of course they're only bits and bytes
and characters and strings
just some old textfiles from my old boyfriend
telling me he loves me and
he'll take care of me
simply a discarded printout of a friend's directory
deep intimate secrets and
how he doesn't trust me
couldn't hurt me more if they were scented in lavender or mould
on personal stationery
|Linux Songs Poems: 179 of 719|
Hark, the Herald Tribune sings,
Advertising wondrous things.
Angels we have heard on High
Tell us to go out and Buy.
-- Tom Lehrer
|Linux Songs Poems: 180 of 719|
Have you ever felt like a wounded cow
halfway between an oven and a pasture?
walking in a trance toward a pregnant
-- Richard Brautigan
|Linux Songs Poems: 181 of 719|
Have you seen how Sonny's burning,
Like some bright erotic star,
He lights up the proceedings,
And raises the temperature.
-- The Birthday Party, "Sonny's Burning"