The Maven

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The Maven

David M. Sherr

April 16, 1993

(Apologies to E. A. Poe, Bill Joy and the Guys from Bell Labs)

Once upon a DB query, while I pondered

object theory

Over many a striped volume of non-volatile

disk-backing store --

While I noded, neatly netting, suddenly I

stopped abetting

A spawned daemon gently setting, setting my cache

thread in core.

' 'Tis Object Broker, I muttered, setting my cache

thread in core --

Only this and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the

message sender,

And each private member wrought its

unique signator.

Gingerly I wished to poll low; -- plainly objects stripped

to followFrom my subjects hardly hollow, hollow within

knowledge store --

Forming rare and raid extant objects sub-classed from my

knowledge store --

Name bound there for evermore.

And the sync-ing, set, non-linking write lock of each

agent shrinking

Chilled me -- filled C-def'd dynamic buffers never

filled before;So that now, to still deleting of my frame, I

stood repeating,

' 'Tis Object Broker requesting reset within

caching store --

Yes, Object Broker requesting reset within

caching store; --

This it is and nothing more.'

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Presently my will grew stronger, hesitating then

no longer,'KILL' did I, then 'UNDO', truly hoping that I

stopped before;

But the fact is I was netting, and so naively

it abetting,

And so faintly it came setting, setting my cache

thread in core,

That scarce was I sure I noticed -- here I opened

windowed core; --

Blank screen there and nothing more.

Deep into the blank screen peering, long I stood there

wondering, fearing,

Shouting, scheming schemes no hacker ever dared

to scheme before;

But the darkness was unbroken, and the yacc script

gave no token,

And the only word there spoken was the whispered

word 'Restore?'

This I wished for, and an echo murmured back the

word 'Restore!'

Clearly this and nothing more.

Back into the cache store turning, all my will within

me burning,

Soon again I resumed netting somewhat wider than

before.

'Surely,' said I, 'Surely there is something in my

window lattice;Let me see, then, what the trap is, and this history

explore --

Lan with heart-beat, ping a server and this history

explore; --

'Tis but the bind and nothing more!'

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Open I here callback trapper, when, with manifest

dash and dapper,In stepped a saintly Maven of the shoeless days

of yore;

Not the least obeisance made he; not a milli-

second stayed he;

But, with mien of Joy or Ritchie, perched upon my

backing store --

Perched below my tome of Thompson just upon my

backing store --

Perched, and smirked, and nothing more.

Then this ebullient bard beguiling my sad fancy into

smiling,

By the great and staunch decorum of the countenance

he wore,

'Though thy chin be sure unshaven, thou,' I

said, 'art my life saving,

Vastly vimful sapient Maven wandering from

the Berkeley shore --

Tell me thy IP address on Internet's

Cal'fornian shore!'

Quoth the Maven, 'Evermore.'

Much I marveled this one gainly fellow to

discourse so plainly,

Though his answer little meaning -- little relevancy

bore;

For we know surely not lacking that no living userhacking

Ever yet was blessed with seeing bard upon his

backing store --

Bard or beast below the dog-eared tome upon his

backing store,

With such node name 'Evermore'.

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But the Maven, sitting proudly on the cabinet

spoke loudly

That one word, as if his guru-hood in one worddid outpour.

Nothing farther then he uttered -- not a page fault

caused voice stuttered --

Till I scarcely more than muttered, 'Other bugs have

blocked before --

On the morrow he will stop me, as my threads have

blocked before.'

Then the bard said, 'Evermore.'

Startled at the stillness broken by the reply so aptly

spoken,

'Doubtless,' said I, 'what he utters is but only to mock

me more

Brought from some unhappy master crash,

unrecovered Disaster

Followed fast and followed faster till his logs one

burden bore --

Till the purges of his Scope that gosh-and-golly burden

Of ' "Ever -- evermore." '

But the Maven still beguiling my sad fancy into

smiling,

Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bard

and tome and store;

Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to

linking

Fancy unto fancy, thinking what the prominent bard

of yore --What this trim, untidy, testy, trenchant,

prominent bard of yore

Meant in croaking 'Evermore.'

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This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable

expressing

To the lout whose laser probe now burned into myeprom's core;

This and more I sat distracted, with my head of disk

retracted

On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light

floated o'er,

But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light

floating o'er,

Help shall press, ah evermore!

Then, methought, the screen grew thicker, actionfrom an unseen clicker,

Modes of methods invoked, electrons tickled

painted phosphor.

'Watch,' I cried, 'Al Kay hath lent thee -- by

these events he hath sent thee

Respite -- respite and nepenthe from thy memories

of Restore;

Quaff, oh, quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this

lost Restore!'


'Prophet!' said I, 'guru seeming -- prophet still, if

bard or daemon! --

Whether Prompter sent, or whether prompt passed

thee to my core,

Desolate yet all undaunted, on the desert glass

enchanted --

Cursor home by Raster haunted -- tell me truly, I

implore --Is there -- is there balm in Philly lad? -- tell me -- tell

me, I implore!'


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'Prophet!' said I, 'guru seeming -- prophet still, if

bard or daemon!

By the Ether that binds above us, by Al Kaywe both adore --

Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the

distant a-bin,

It shall cast a concrete object whom these events

can't Restore --

Class a rare and raid persistent object whom these events

can't Restore.'


'Be that word our sign of parting, bard or fiend!' I

shrieked, upstarting --

'Get thee back into the temp test of the Net's

Cal'fornian shore!

Leave no lex scan as a token of that lie thy soul

hath spoken!

Leave my loneliness invoking! -- drop the tome

upon my store!

Take thy nose from out my house, and take thy

form from off my store!'


And the Maven, never flitting, still is sitting,stillis

sitting

By the tome of Thompson just upon my backing

store;

And his eyes have all the seeming of a daemon's that

is streaming,And the lamp-light oe'r him beaming shows his

shadow RAM XOR;

And my mask from out that shadow that dies goading

me for more

Shall be flagged -- evermore!

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The Maven