And that is called...
...outsourcing your problem resolution!
BOFH logo â€“ telephone with devil's horns It's late on Friday afternoon and I’m having a couple of quiet beers with one of the local salesdroids. Ordinarily the only reason I’d do this is that (a) they’re paying and (b) there’s a tube station relatively near that has extremely poor CCTV coverage. It usually starts with me …
Fifteen minutes duration sounds like a solution of a plastic in isopropyl alcohol, very likely liberated from surplus stores of tape head cleaner. I think I detect a certain amount of experimentation in the correct type of plastic solute to use to achieve the correct amount of slipperiness; after all practice does make perfect in these circumstances.
We like to have fun with the guys in forensics so we use whale sperm to grease things. It's rather slick when wet, tacky when starting to dry, & may cause projectile vomiting when the tech realizes what they've got filling that evidence bag. I'll leave it up to your imagination how we collect the stuff in the first place...
I knew a company which appeared to work like that. They sold their idea to the top of the food chain but we knew they only sold non-slippery snake oil. They are strangely out of business now, something about a bankruptcy the press said. Oddly enough the top of the food chain did almost the same to our company.
"bringing people their just deserts"
As I once said to a mouthy kid who asked me who I was:
"Oh, me ? I'm just a BAD thing that happens to BAD people"
Strangely enough, he decided not to pursue that line of questioning any further. Funny, that. Not sure if it was the Stare or the deadpan delivery that shut him up.
"I think Simon sees himself more as Lucifer Morningstar (like the TV series), bringing people their just deserts, in which case heaven is most certainly where the stairway does not lead."
Yes, there are two paths you can go by
But in the long run
There's still time to change the road you're on....
though I was expecting a little more along the lines of "we're about to get medieval on your rack..."
You know the sort of thing... 4 post, binding to the lifting eyelets at the top and the floor-beam locating pins at the bottom, sealed cabinetry, acoustic baffling, some ancient GPU loaded rack mounted PC with quad FX 9590 processors and a slew of GTX480s at the bottom running audio recognition tasks on the feed from an in-rack audio pickup - the louder you scream the harder they work, a Redetec top-of-rack FPS for good measure. All plugged into either the demo PDU or the shipped PDU; are you feeling lucky, punk? Well, are you?
A little off the subject, but some years ago colleague of mine was imaging 6 or so Precision workstations simultaneously on the same circuit, actually even plugged into the same power strip. These workstations have 1300W power supplies, though they're obviously not using a lot of horsepower when an image is being applied. Still, with dual Xeons and hefty video cards, they draw a lot at all times.
The power strip was an old one that had apparently seen some shop floor use, as it was battered and filthy. It also lacked a circuit breaker. I noticed what he was doing, saw that the imaging job on all (Ghost) was over 90% complete, then touched the power strip, which was alarmingly warm. I opened my mouth to say something and the room's breaker (20A) tripped audibly, ending the imaging job, to my colleague's chagrin, and expressing the thought that was on my mind more eloquently than I could have done with mere speech.
"The name Stephen has been bandied around in a few previous episodes, but as far as I can recall, this has been the first hint of his surname starting with P."
And considering how long Stephen has been the PFY, I suspect he must have been still wearing nappies when he started or the Y part is no longer accurate. He's been around for at least 10 years.
The second description could also describe some of the reps I've had to deal with over the years.
One such rep annoyed me (and two layers of management above me) so badly, that when he saw me at InfoSecurity Europe, he hid in the toilets for nearly two hours.
Two hours in the bogs at Olympia, during a busy event, on a warm spring day. I'm trying to work out if that's dedication or desperation.
I had one that tried to sell me all sorts of tat, but never succeeded because I could see it was all tat.
That never stopped him trying, and soon as I left that gig, someone made the mistake of buying something off him.
Yes, it was complete tat, and that was the very last time they ever dealt with him.
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