💾 Archived View for clemat.is › saccophore › library › ebooks › bofh › newbofh › bofh17jul.txt captured on 2021-12-04 at 18:04:22.

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⬅️ Previous capture (2021-12-03)

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                     TThhee BBaassttaarrdd OOppeerraattoorr FFrroomm HHeellll
  AAss tthhee BBOOFFHH eexxppllaaiinnss,, dduummmmiieess ddoonn''tt ggrrooww oonn ttrreeeess,, iitt ttaakkeess yyeeaarrss ooff
                              ttrraaiinniinngg ......
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"Hello. Is that Network Support?" the user asks over hands-free.
I remove our topological LAN Viewing equipment (VR Glasses) and
disconnect from our powerful network analysis server (VR Tank-Combat
Games Machine) and direct my attention to the caller.
Caller-Id indicates a user at beancounter central is on the line.
"Yes, this is network support," I reply.
"Oh. I have a problem with FTP-ing from an Internet ftp server in
Brussels. It keeps dropping my connection just after I've downloaded a
megabyte."
The PFY looks over to me with a cheesy grin and scribbles out a hasty
message: "TODAY'S LIMIT 1024K" and points at his packet filter software.
He's getting good.
"Ah yes," I say, flicking over the page on my excuse calendar, "We're
getting a lot of this at the moment. We believe it's due to...Network
Destabilisation from Low Voltage Fluorescent Lamp Spikes."
"Come again?"
"Well, when a fluorescent lamp starts, it sends a spike back down the
power cable which in turn induces an interference current in network
cabling nearby. In low voltage circuits this effect is magnified."
>DUMMY MODE ON<
[From the bastard Glossary:
DUMMY MODE, n. The mode in which a user, overcome by technical terms,
will believe, and/or do, anything he or she is told.]
"DUH-HUH. So what do I do?"
[Told you so.]
"Well, today nothing, as there's obviously something generating spikes.
How big was the file you wanted?"
"About 1.6 Megs"
I scribble: "TOMORROW'S LIMIT 1.59 MEGS" and pass it to the PFY.
"Well," I respond, "are there any low-voltage fluorescent tubes on your
floor?"
"I don't know."
"Well, they'll be smallish, bar-like lights - usually inside signs or
displays."
"THE FIRE EXIT SIGNS!!" my caller shouts from the end of the garden path
he's been led down.
"Of course!" I cry, sharing his enthusiasm. "They're right above
doorways, which is where our cable is fed. Well, there's probably
nothing you can do about it now, as we can't refeed our network cabling,
I'm sorry,"
"What about if we moved the exit signs?"
"Oh, I'm afraid WE couldn't do that, even if we had the time."
"Oh?"
"No, we simply do not have the time to remove the cable duct covers,
slide the exit signs along the duct for a couple of yards to get them
away from the data cables, then replace the covers in the newly vacated
space for every exit sign on your floor."
"Oh" he replies, mind ticking over almost audibly. "Never mind then.
I'll just try bringing the file across in pieces then."
I hang up then cross out the 1024K on the PFY's bit of paper and put 50K
in its place, nodding to him to action it.
"He won't do it you know..." the PFY says, so little faith in one so
young.
"10 Quid?" I ask.
"You're on," he says, thinking naive "easy money" thoughts.
The next morning comes and I stash a crisp new 10 pound note in my
wallet with a smug grin. The PFY notes with disgust the repositioning of
the Exit signs halfway along the walls, well clear of the "network
cabling" in the doorways.
"Never underestimate the desperation of a user," I mention, furthering
his education once more.
To take his mind off it, I get him to install the new 'Infra Red
Wireless LAN Transceivers' (infra-red cameras), in the floors mentioned
and drop some cable boxes around the place so it looks like we're going
to do something.
Later that afternoon, Network Control is crammed to capacity with a
dozen or so fellow network engineers from other companies.
"You all know the rules" I state, "20 quid a player, except for the PFY
and I, who, as host, get first pick of a free player"
Nods all round as the PFY takes the bets and we switch on the gaming
screens. Once the choosing of players is complete, we're ready to go.
"Let the game commence!" I shout, flicking the switch to cut the lights
to Beancounter central and its stairwells. I then activate the fire
alarms.
"The person whose player is the first to the safety of a stairwell,
takes the pool!"
Through the infrared monitor we watch the pandemonium break out, as in
the darkness, everyone runs for apparent safety.
The toll of the newly shifted exit signs is fairly high and will
probably leave an impression on the wall that only a thick coat of
plaster will put right.
Next on the obstacle list (for the smarter contestants) are the boxes of
cable the PFY left randomly in the cubicle "corridors" earlier on.
"It's like a multi-ball game of pinball down there!" the PFY cries
watching in disbelief.
Ten minutes later I'm counting my winnings - of course I did back the
mover of the signs in the first place....
And they say there's no money in networking any more.
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