💾 Archived View for clemat.is › saccophore › library › ebooks › bofh › newbofh › bofh18sep.txt captured on 2021-12-03 at 14:04:38.
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aannoorraakkss bbaacckk ttoo eeaarrtthh.. ......
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It's trade show time again, and this time it's off to the east coast of
the US for a week of seeing what's new in the land of wire wiggling. Of
course, I read clippings from the computer press from time to time but
it's far better to see an ATM switch in the flesh than on the page.
Actually, it's even more essential to see the inside of a posh hotel bar
than to see an ATM switch in the flesh; one must get one's priorities
right, and hey, if I wanted to look at flashing lights I could do it in
my own air-con comms room instead of a sweaty exhibition hall.
Life is sweet as we cruise over the Atlantic. The canapes are splendid,
though the smoked salmon has perhaps been a little over-chilled. We're
talking first class, naturally - my turn-left-at-economy-and-it's-by-
the-bog seat was mysteriously exchanged for that of a Mrs E. Windsor ...
well, it's a pretentious name anyway. I think there must be someone
important down the back also, as there are lots of men in dark suits
arguing with stewardesses over seats and reservations and stuff; I must
complain to the airline about the lousy soundproofing on the first class
section - it's very noisy.
"Excuse me, what processor does that have?"
My five-star-brandy-induced trance of peaceful smugness is broken.
"I'm sorry?"
"What processor does your laptop run? Mine's a 133 meg Pentium."
Great. Even worse than the nutter on the bus, I get the computer bore on
the plane. At least on the number 2 Routemaster you can push them off
the open platform on the Edgeware Road.
"It's a 437 meg SPARC Ultra." Only a slight exaggeration - I like to
start gently.
"Really? I didn't know Windows ran on a SPARC."
"It doesn't."
"So what are you running?"
"Solaris 2.7."
"Hey, wow! You must be a serious user."
"Yeah. Something like that." Which makes you a serious luser. "You
running Windows 95?"
"Yes."
"Hey, wow. You must be a serious sad bastard."
He smiles uncertainly, trying to convince himself that I'm jesting. Time
to sort that misapprehension out for him.
"Did you know that you can speed up that model with a simple hardware
mod?"
"Hey, no! Really? How do you do it?"
"Well, I shouldn't really say, as there's a slight risk involved - it
will invalidate your warranty."
"That's OK, I'm happy to try it as long as it's pretty certain to work.
What do you do?"
"Right. Have you got a paper clip? Actually, any smallish bit of metal
wire will do."
"Yes, here you are. What do I do with it?"
"You're going to crank up the speed of the SCSI bus by increasing the
power a little. Turn the machine round so the back's facing you, and
connect that pin there in the SCSI connector to the earphone plug."
He fiddles about, and manages to lodge the paper-clip appropriately. No
blue smoke ...yet.
"Okay, now what?"
"Now you have a machine that you can selectively make faster when you
need to. You don't want to just crank it up permanently as that'll eat
battery life, so it's best to just speed things up when you really need
to."
"So how do I speed it up when I need to?"
"Just play a music disc on the CD. That will cause the voltage in the
earphone socket to go up, and so the bus will be energised. Don't play
it too loud, though, or you could damage something; something like Dark
Side of the Moon should be OK, but watch out for the alarm clocks."
"Hmmm...I don't have any audio CDs here. Can I use the microphone
instead?"
"Sure - just set it to 'play through' mode and shout in the mike when
you need the speed. Careful not to shout too loud, though."
Fifteen minutes goes by, and I'm beginning to regret what I've done. My
friend has discovered that whistling into the mike is the easiest way to
make a loudish noise, and it would seem that his particular make of
laptop is far more resilient than those I've come across before.
Fortunately, help is at hand in the shape of a flustered gentleman who
advances rather angrily.
"WILL YOU PACK THAT BLOODY WHISTLING IN!" he screams. At that moment the
paper clip does its worst.
Interestingly, Boeing's air conditioning is particulalry well-attuned to
the smell of smoke - a fire alarm goes off in the distance.
"I think that's a �1,000 fine," I smile sweetly as the stewardesses move
to break up the fight breaking out between my geeky companion and the
flustered gentleman. Soon, the parties involved are rapidly strapped to
their seats with a burly looking steward in attendance. Once again all
is calm.
"Sorry for the disturbance, sir. Can I get you another brandy?"
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