The dregs of I.T.

I slip into the office, bright and early (9.15am) and settle down to the cube farm and mundane work related items (stopping all my fileshares and my torrent downloads that I left to run overnight) and I fire up my email, scanning through the latest issue of Dilbert. I'm a little taken when I see 3 new emails with the subject's in CAPS and running about a mile long. *sigh* its going to be one of those days. -------------------------------------------------------------------- Email Subject: PLEASE FIND ATTACHED THE FILES YOU REQUESTED LAST WEEK ON THE UPDATES THAT WE HAVE DONE TO OUR COMPUTERS AND SERVER, AND IF YOU REQUIRE ANY ADDITIONAL INFO EMAIL ME Email Body: Thank you -------------------------------------------------------------------- *facepalm* I email the client back, and say that I've received her info, and as tactfully as I can, I request that she stop using CAPS and to keep the subject line as short as she can. She doesnt email me back, so I take it that she under...

Expert systems are meant to solve real problems which normally would require a specialised human expert. I'm in no way saying that Expert Systems work on their own. All I'm saying is that Expert systems can be built, and can work very well, when used IN CONJUNCTION with an human expert. Expert systems (PDF File, or right click and Save As) That is all.

My Holy Oyster, I'm depressed! Here I am, a mind the size of a university computer center, and they give me inane tasks to do. "Would you please configure a VPN server on that linux box?" Sure, I mean, I'll do it, just don't try to give me anything easier to do. And I've got this terrible pain in the right part of my throat. And my right ear aches, too. It's all because of the phone chatter. "I've got this SQL query that takes only a couple of minutes, but if I add another condition, it takes a whole day. Is it possible to optimise it in any way?" Oh Holy Banana, those people simply lack any and all imagination. There I go, engaging my brain for three seconds to solve a problem, and then switching it off for ten minutes while I explain the stuff. What a waste. No wonder my throat and ear ache. They're terribly abused, compared to my brain. What a depressing bunch of people. I could easilly run the whole world, but no, they know it better....

The boss slips into my quarter cubical of personal space and says beamingly, “Wireless networking! That’s the way to go!” Acting like the good drone I am (well, at work, see it’s an act) I swivel my chair to face him and tilt my head a little to the left, perfect drone body language for “What?” “See, I saw it on this Tech program on my satellite TV! It’s wonderful; you can hook up your computer to the internet without wires. Amazing stuff, imagine this, working any place in the office, and still being connected to the LAN and internet. It’s going to double our productivity!” Now I tilt my head to the right, prefect IT body language for “What the heck?” He still doesn’t get it, and plows right on. “Once we get ourselves the gizmo to go wireless, we can pull the internet waves from the very AIR!” At this point he’s frothing slightly at the mouth. I raise my hand, catch his attention and say “We get internet access from the air?” “Well”, he stumbles on, “I think we do. The TV ...

"... and then you find out the top 30% of most sold items and sum them up." I go: "Ahaaa...", as I try to wake up the hamster inside my head. "... sales statistics... adjust prices... the tax report... inventory..." "Ahaaa..." "... a loophole... percentage... minimise the income figures... spending..." "Yeaaa...." "So, will you be able to do it?" "Sure." Still in a dizzy state, I search the phone book for something with the word "tax" in it. And then make a call. "... tax office... blah blah..." "Um. Yeaa.... I'd like to report a tax fraud. Fuzzboys Inc. want to evade a bit of tax with some statistics." "... blah blah..." Whatever. I hang up and go out in search for a cup of coffee before someone kills my hamster. Curiously enough, on my return a coworker tells me that Fuzzboys Inc. cancelled the order for that big twisted statistics calculation mod...