Subject: Bob's Travelogue: Shift Report in Iambic Pentameter Hey sportsfans, This week I put all my creative juices into my shift report, which is attached below. I censored some of the details, believe me I was doing you a favor. Just read it as long as it amuses you; it doesn't get any funnier so don't feel you have to read to the end. Next week: bad Italian English -- Bob ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Date: Tue, 15 Feb 2000 10:15:41 -0800 (PST) From: William Shakespeare To: macro-general@budoe.bu.edu Subject: US Shift Report in Iambic Pentameter A COMEDY OF ERRORS A tragedie by William Shakespeare DRAMATIS PERSONAE Erik Katsavounidis -- Duke of Gran Sasso Alessandra DiCredico -- Wife to the Duke Ianni Katsavounidis -- Martial of Gran Sasso troops Niccola Zaccheo \ Massimo Orsini - Attendants on the duke Roberto Giuliuani / Bob Nolty -- Fool Scene: Gran Sasso Labs ACT I -- Erik's office ===== ERIK: For one year more than ten hath MACRO run, and sixty million muons spooled to tape. So now to us in this time it doth fall to set its improprieties aright; to calibrate the measure of its bits; in short, to maximize what physics from our MACRO may be squeezed. And to this we are consign'd, appointed and resolv'd. ALLE: To this, good husband, yes; but also more. The days of life are number'd and do fly. There is wine to be enjoy'd and meat to tempt your all too-weary tongue, which talks of calibrations when it should be wrapped around lasagne or a roasted hen. There's music to engage the ears that now are poised to hear a fan about to fail. And art there is to gaze upon with eyes now fixed upon a CRT that's filled with num'rous numbers, too small to be seen. ERIK: In this, as alway, my good wife is seen to speak most wisely; yet I think it good to take this time to plan for future wars. But I'll for home within 5 minutes, love. ALLE: Oft this I've heard; your minutes do contain much more than sixty seconds. I'll to home and there prepare our primi and secondi. {Exit.} ERIK: Field Martial, what the men we have at hand? IANNI: They number four, of whom are three I trust; the fourth I would have sent away or shot. First Massimo Orsini. ERIK: What is he? IANNI: A good man, handy with a sold'ring iron, who lately fixed the SM2 LIP board. <<>> Second, Niccola Zaccheo. ERIK: What he? IANNI: In faith he is a good man. None there is who better knows STOP Master's inner parts. <<>> Roberto Guiliani is the third. ERIK: What he? IANNI: A rugby player, who hath worn Italia's blue shirt in a junior match against the fearsome Scots. ERIK: All well and good, but what hath he for us done lately, eh? IANNI: Our phototubes he doth replace apace. ERIK: A dirty bus'ness that. And who the fourth? IANNI: A cad, a wretch, a knave, a fool, in short a programmer. Bob Nolty is he called. ERIK: I wish to meet him. IANNI: That can be arranged. ACT II -- A terminal room ====== BOB: {aside} True, DCL is irritating but 'tis from this that a perl has emerged. ERIK: What means he thus? IANNI: This knave refers to scripts that he hath writ in Perl to run upon our vaxes and our alphas, taking all <<>> ERIK: This work is good, for we must start to spin the DLTs within a week or so to have a hope of reprocessing all before the first of May, when changes all. IANNI: But I have changes planned in CALCODE, Duke, That will improve results a half percent. ERIK: Enough! No more! 'Tis good enough as is. On Monday next the tapes begin to spin. Good sir, what is the work that you now do? BOB: Your dukeness, now I seek the pongs our pings do miss. ERIK: What? Riddles all? Please answer plain. <<>> ERIK: And what the cure? BOB: I hath emaileth those in charge. These emails were received, except, that to the network manager did bounce and say the network is configured wrong. There's humor there for those incined to see't. ERIK: And those who did receive your mail say what? BOB: They try to fix; but still the link stays down. <<>> ERIK: I'll more of this anon; for now my wife upon this screen doth message me, to wit: "Five minutes said you half an hour ago; forsake your lab and get thee home to eat." I'd be wise to listen to her now. But say, field martial, why the frowning scowl? IANNI: The problem's here upon this CRT. <<>> I'll no more on it; it hath made me mad. ERIK: What's past is past; the present's our concern. Tomorrow is our usual maint'nance day. The nine o'clock navetta shall we take And fix what's wrong, if we would earn our pay. ACT III - a nearby grotto; next day ======= ERIK: Once more onto the pasarellas, friends, or fill the hall up with our oil spills! What news, field martial? IANNI: None that's good, my duke. The SM3 LaMOSSKa, which has ... <<>> ERIK: There's something rotten in Hall B, I say. {enter Bob, wearing a yellow hard hat} ERIK: What means this silly hat upon your head? BOB: I do you honor, duke, by wearing it. ERIK: You honor, or you mock me? BOB: Honor, faith, For Giorgio says that we must wear these hats When an important visitor is here. ERIK: Be off with your hat, or off with your head! BOB: I'm out of my head; none would be the harm. ERIK: Thou, knave, art mad! BOB: I am but mad east-southeast; when the nus are westerly I know a nu from an atmu. {Exit.} N.B. rockmap humor IANNI: We're off now to the calibration wars. {Exit Ianni and Massimo} {Phone rings.} ERIK: Hello? Yes, love? I know, dear, that we had an evening in the symphony hall planned. But I was not to know how much the work. The course of maint'nance day ne'er did run smooth. {Hangs up.} <<>> ERIK: You overwhelm me with reports of gloom. Retreat! Retreat! 'Tis clear that fortune's doom hangs thickly all about us in this room. IANNI: The five o'clock navetta does arrive; and if we catch it, we'll escape alive. ACT IV - Erik's office; next day ====== ERIK: Why lounge ye all about and drink caffe? MASSIMO: Because AXPGS won't allow a login. {Enter Ianni.} IANNI: This was true, but now 'tis solv'd. <<>> NICCOLA: To work! There's data to be analyzed. ERIK: Now name the losses incurred on this shift. ROBERTO: The phototubes we lost add up to five: <<>> ERIK: Good tubes, gone to the Counter in the Sky. But now, is all else right in MACROland? <<>> ERIK: To such bad news, I've only one response: Let's to the bar; I'll buy caffe for all! ACT V - the bar ===== {Men at bar. Enter Alle.} ALLE: {To Ianni.} Tonight, my love, will be a wondrous night, for we have planned a dinner to delight, then to an art show lovely to the sight. IANNI: Dear lady, pardon me, for you mistook me for your husband, who stands over there. ALLE: Excuse me, kind sir; but you look so much like him I swear his brother you could be. IANNI: 'Tis odd you mention brothers, for you see, I have a brother whom I've never known. For in a shipwreck, mom gave birth to twins but saved just me; her son and mate were lost. ALLE: 'Tis odd indeed, for Erik's father says his mother and his brother both were lost when he was born. Now do you olives like? IANNI: I love them! ALLE: Then you must be he! Oh, my! Come, Erik, meet your brother you thought dead! ERIK: 'Tis true? I always liked this faithful man! Come join us as this night we dine and see an art show to delight fraternal eyes! IANNI: So all's well that ends well; 'twas much ado about MACRO. This comedie of errors ends herein. FINIS