Headline, March29, 2014



"Damn industry standards, man..............," he moaned, quaffing another mouthful of his delicious drink. "Like...... three months ago.......I was trying to perfect an  >industry-wide standard that would ensure that every new cable modem:

The kind that transfer data at incredibly high speeds over ordinary cable lines.....well, I was trying to ensure that every single one of these idiots.....would interface seamlessly.

Then these damn venture capitalists........came in.......and said they were pulling the plug. And that was it. That was damned it. Over and out. Crash and burn. And the worst part is, I wasn't even vested. VC scum."

"Bummer, man," I said, mustering as much compassion as I could. Meanwhile, over my shoulder, I saw the bartender eyeing me suspiciously. By the look of it, my companion was regular. And not a popular one.

"I wasn't even vested, man," he said, becoming more animated with each passing syllable. "I wasn't even vested!!!!""

The barkeep was now at our side, wielding a partially splintered baseball bat with at least a dozen nails protruding from each side. The signature read HONUS WAGNER.

"You'll be moving along now, laddies," he said, with just the faintest trace of a brogue:

"I won't have you dissolute young gents discussing your option plans or bemoaning your failure to become fully vested before your unfortunate little company imploded.

I run a clean, quiet, one might also say serene, establishment, and I'll have none of your hoo-ha."

Obligingly, I helped my companion stagger back to his room at the Star of Bethlehem Hotel, located at the corner of O'Farrell and Jones. By this point, he was almost delirious with alcohol-induced rage.

"Hey, bro.........call Kozmo.com and see if they'll deliver, a pint of rum-raisen Haggen-Dazs and a copy of   The Matrix," he asked. "DVD format, if they've got iit. Oh, and tell them to send up a DVD player too." 

I stayed at his side until he passed out, and then rushed back to the hooch house and buttonholed the bartender. Taciturn at first, he eventually loosened his grip on the bat when I told him I was a reporter working under cover.

A crisp Andy Jackson provided a further inducement to a bit of candid chattiness. 

"They're not a bad let at heart," he explained in his wee, musical tone, "but they can get a bit lachrymose. The old timers mostly talk about their wives and kids, or the one that got away, or their glory days when they canned thirty-one consecutive free throws at UC Fresno.

But they don't talk much about their jobs. This new lot, ....well....they're quite the self-centered sort, aren't they?  Very full of themselves. And once you get them going about their   *FX  software and wireless access points*, well, things can get ugly.

They simply don't know when it's time to turn the spigot off. We had one lad here on Saturday who insisted that the new global economy had collapsed because of the failure of the federal government to underwrite  *universal broadband access*.

And wouldn't you know that another chap stepped right up and said, no, it was hubris that caused the  dot.com melt down. Hubris, was it? Damn hubris, was it?  Oh, my how they went at it. Hammer and Tongs, if you want the long and short of it.

"*Universal broadband access*",  said the one. "Hubris," said the other. "*Insufficient federal investment in national fiber-optic infrastructure*" said the first. 'Hubris,' said the second.

We found them out back in the morning, both with their throats slit. The police didn't even make a report; if you'd started gathering up the plausible suspects, the line would have stretched from here to Marina del Rey."

I had a drink, thanked him, then wandered back up the street to my hotel.

In the lobby sat at least twenty dot.commers, chattering away. They were all going off their little spiels, no one hearing what the other one was saying.

"No,.......you poser,.............we were brought down by crushing debt load," said a man with a poncy British accent.

"We promised superb, nearly  unimaginable clarity at the cost of pennies per second,"  said another. "And we f......  delivered.   But  Bill Gates like totally,  totally, totally  reamed us....................!!!"'*

"Damn You and the Portal you came in through, douche bag.....," said the third to one in particular.

Wearily, I climbed the stairs, unlocked the door to my room and began packing my bags.

By now I had all the material I needed. This thing was real. This thing was sad. This thing cut to the bone.

The great honour and this delightfully educating post continues: Just don't miss it.

With respectful dedication to all the  ***Nerds***  who crashed and burned. See Ya all on  !WOW!   -the World Students Society Computers-Internet-Wireless for some great inventions:

"'Truth On Ice"'

Good Night & God Bless!

SAM Daily Times - the Voice of the Voiceless


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