Ach, sausage.
Migration Path
February 2, 2006
sequence - touches here, moves in
tracking slow to center
parallel - touches here, moves then
twice or more and center bore
each until the other slows
where thinking grinds its spindle
marking every step in wax
the tracks can spiral gentle in
or stutter, here - and here - like thunder
and then examine spindle
lone needle flicking
stinging heavy damage in
and brittle taking damage in
ever raking damage in
where process cannot kindle
and parallel, where the nightmares dwell
does well to stumble in the channel
limited not in assignation, but destination
sworn to touch all places in between and thus
fracture in the middle
run one against the other then
and single channeled many flails
while slow and steady strong prevails
while many channels with one pail
soon are empty of their river
a solitude of when
Steal this and run your data - all your base belong to no-one.
Yes, this is what happens when someone says, “Well, I just don’t get it - I’m not a computer geek or anything.” In short, no, if you have a single pipe, the fast way to pull data is NOT to open as many streams as you can. What bothers me most about the whole thing is that having read the poem, they said, “Well, why didn’t you just say so?” Blargh, mental disconnect.
In the meantime, if anyone wants to know how to pull every muscle from top left to lower right in their back, the answer is, “Borrow one of my folks and have them have you help them move stuff.” Like the time Sam the Cat got under the refrigerator and I had to either ride the fridge down the stairs or crush the cat, all was well until my mom inserted herself into a pinch point between some crap and the stupidly heavy cabinet I was moving.
Balance failure: Mother crushing bad. *SHRED*
Yep, I still have a cat, and my mom didn’t get touched. I… win.
February 2, 2006
sequence - touches here, moves in
tracking slow to center
parallel - touches here, moves then
twice or more and center bore
each until the other slows
where thinking grinds its spindle
marking every step in wax
the tracks can spiral gentle in
or stutter, here - and here - like thunder
and then examine spindle
lone needle flicking
stinging heavy damage in
and brittle taking damage in
ever raking damage in
where process cannot kindle
and parallel, where the nightmares dwell
does well to stumble in the channel
limited not in assignation, but destination
sworn to touch all places in between and thus
fracture in the middle
run one against the other then
and single channeled many flails
while slow and steady strong prevails
while many channels with one pail
soon are empty of their river
a solitude of when
Steal this and run your data - all your base belong to no-one.
Yes, this is what happens when someone says, “Well, I just don’t get it - I’m not a computer geek or anything.” In short, no, if you have a single pipe, the fast way to pull data is NOT to open as many streams as you can. What bothers me most about the whole thing is that having read the poem, they said, “Well, why didn’t you just say so?” Blargh, mental disconnect.
In the meantime, if anyone wants to know how to pull every muscle from top left to lower right in their back, the answer is, “Borrow one of my folks and have them have you help them move stuff.” Like the time Sam the Cat got under the refrigerator and I had to either ride the fridge down the stairs or crush the cat, all was well until my mom inserted herself into a pinch point between some crap and the stupidly heavy cabinet I was moving.
Balance failure: Mother crushing bad. *SHRED*
Yep, I still have a cat, and my mom didn’t get touched. I… win.