[courier-users] The IETF hit squad.

[Sam Varshavchik]

And now, its time for something a little different. A humorous diversion. Let's take a break from the daily grind, and enjoy some harmless, lighthearted entertainment. A few innocent yucks.

The following poem was inspired by a message I read over lunch, today. Enjoy.

If you have a good set of speakers, or a stereo, crank up "The Imperial March", while reading the following, for maximum effect. Otherwise, "1812" might do the trick.

=========================================

A long, long time ago,
on a hard drive, far far away,
rebel codes were born to give
freedom to those the existing
establishment deemed unworthy to
live free.

A new hope was born to the people
who were looked upon in disdain,
since their birth, by those who
annointed themselves as the
guardians, and prophets, of The
True And The Right Way To Do
Things. All their lives they were
told not to question authority,
just obediently do what they were
told to do, prostrate daily to
their Masters, and use the
divine tools of their Masters, no
matter how heavy, garbled,
convoluted, and bloated they
were. They were forced to suffer
unspeakable atrocities; at the
same time they were told that
it's GOOD for them, that's this
is how their tools are SUPPOSED
to work, and they shall not dare
to challenge the Sacred Cows of
eternal wisdom and knowledge,
as preached by those who
possessed the Sacred Rings Of
The Working Groups.

But now, they were finally free
of their tyrany. They now had
working, efficient rebel code.
And the people rejoiced. They
shed their shackles, which bound
them for generations.

They were finally free to look
after their home directories,
servers, and mail queues,
without having to carry the
Burdensome Beasts Of Bloat on
their Backs. And no longer were
they required to listen to
their Masters, telling them how
compassionate and all-knowing
their masters are, and how better
they know about things, than the
great unwashed.

And the Masters were filled with
fury. They vowed to strike back
using their Mighty Sword Of
Authority, who they believed
still struck fear in the hearts
of men. "How dare you to
ignore, or to pay blasphemous
lip service to our official
interpretations of the Holy
Scrolls of The RFCs! Don't
you know who we are!!"
they thundered, in furious rage,
to anyone who cared to listen.
"How dare you suggest that
we're full of it! How dare you
release code that we did not
give our personal blessing to!
How dare you to even have the
audacity to breathe the
notion that our holy scrolls
are obfuscated, contradictory,
confusing, and long-winded! How
dare you claim that we were
wrong, and that you know better
than we do!" -- these deafening
cries have rolled through the
valley of BSD, and the towering
mountain of Linux, for a
fortnight.

And they called upon the mighty
and powerful forces of SMTP and
Mailing Lists to strike down
the heathens, and punish those
who dared to abandon the
Official Code, and who
brazingly repudiated their
former Masters, and have now
adopted the Rebel Code, in
their daily lives.

But the strangest thing has
happened. Wave after wave of
the Masters' fury had no
visible, or measurable
effect. The people cheered the
return of the Rebel Code,
after each attack, and it
continued to grow, evolve, and
improve over time, strangely
ignorant of the constant
pounding and attacks from the
Dark Masters.

And the people laughed. And
ignored their former despots.
And continued to work, play,
and live their lives, in
peaceful harmony with the Code
That Simply Works. It worked
better than what they used to
have at their disposal, and
that's all that mattered to
them.

And the cries of the self-
annointed slowly died to a
whisper, and after some time
were just a distant, unpleasant
memory...

T H E E N D

Coming soon: the next exciting
chapter of this saga: The Upgrade
Menace, and Attack Of The Robots.

==================================

Well, at least this sounded funny when I wrote it. It was inspired by http://www.faqchest.com/prgm/wuimap-l/imap03011422_33529.html

Now, if you excuse me, I need to purchase a home security system, and hire bodyguards, lest I acquire cement shoes and be taken on an involuntary swim across the Hudson.





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