Kann sein, dass dieses schon bei vielen auf dem Schirm lag. Und so gut wie die Beatles-Computer-Gedichte ist es auch nciht. Aber ich habe es genossen, dass auch dieses Thema mal in gute Worte gefasst wurde. Englische leider...

Nothing more

Once upon a midnight dreary, fingers cramped and vision bleary,
System manuals piled high and wasted paper on the floor,
Longing for the warmth of bedsheets,
Still I sat there, doing spreadsheets:
Having reached the bottom line,
I took a floppy from the drawer.
Typing with a steady hand, I then invoked the SAVE command
and waited for the disk to store,
Only this and nothing more.

Deep into the monitor peering, long I sat there wond'ring, fearing,
Doubting, while the disk kept churning, turning yet to churn some
more. "Save!" I said, "You cursed mother! Save my data from before!"
One thing did the phosphors answer, only this and nothing more, Just,
"Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

Was this some occult illusion? Some maniacal intrusion?
These were choices undesired, ones I'd never faced before.
Carefully, I weighed the choices as the disk made impish noises. The
cursor flashed, insistent, waiting, baiting me to type some more.
Clearly I must press a key, choosing one and nothing more, From Choose
"Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

With my fingers pale and trembling
Slowly toward the keyboard bending,
Longing for a happy ending, hoping all would be restored,
Praying for some guarantee
Timidly I pressed a key.
But on the screen there still persisted words appearing as before.
Ghastly grim they blinked and taunted, haunted, as my patience wore, Saying
"Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

I tried to catch the chips off-guard --
I pressed again, but twice as hard.
I pleaded with the cursed machine: I begged and cried and then I swore.
Now in desperation, trying random combinations, Still there came the
incantation, just as senseless as before.
Cursor blinking, angrily winking, blinking nonsense as before. Reading,
"Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

There I sat, distraught, exhausted by my own machine, accosted
Getting up I turned away and paced across the office floor.
And then I saw dreadful sight: a lightning bolt cut through the
night. A gasp of horror overtook me, shook me to my core. The
lightning zapped my previous data, lost and gone forevermore. Not even,
"Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

To this day I do not know
The place to which lost data goes.
What demonic nether world is wrought where data will be stored,
Beyond the reach of mortal souls, beyond the ether, into black holes?
But sure as there's C, Pascal, Lotus, Ashton-Tate and more,
You will one day be left to wander, lost on some Plutonian shore, Pleading,
"Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

gut Ton!
ullli

: Nothing more

:)

Fuer alle die, die nicht nur die Melodei vergessen, hier der wahre Text von Stairway - ein definitives Statement zur Abschaffung des Ladenschlussgesetzes.

Cheerio, O//i

Stairway to 7-11
===========

There's a lady who's had all the beer she can hold,
On the stairway to 7-11.
When she gets there she knows, though the doors are all closed,
They're not locked, and the lights are all blazing.

Ooooh, Oooooh, on the stairway to 7-11.

There's a sign on the wall, but she wants to be sure,
'Cause you know sometimes words have two meanings.
By the shelves in the back hang the chips on a rack,
And the sign reads "Doritos $3.19"

There's a feeling I get, like I'm put to a test,
As I stare at the hot foods--debating.
In my thoughts I have seen clouds of smoke, lost car keys,
And my seats burned by friends who sit waiting.

And it makes me wonder, oh, oh, oh.

And it's whispered that soon, with a small plastic spoon
I'll be eating my microwave baked beans.
And as they start to thaw, I reach out for a straw,
And my Big Gulp dumps onto my blue jeans.

Oh, it makes me wonder, oh, oh oh.

If there's a bustle by the cooler, don't be alarmed now;
It's just some frat boys buying more brew.
And now you ponder your soaked Levi's and you notice
You're dripping baked beans on your new shoes.

Your head is hummin' and it won't go, in case you don't know;
The lady's callin' you to join her.
Chips in one hand, and in the other, a can of bean dip;
You know she's blown your last dollar.

(Guitar solo)

And as you stumble down the aisle, red-eyed and laughing all the while,
There stands the night clerk we all know, who's so polite and wants to show
That though it's late he's quite a card;
And when you've listened very hard, your change will come to you at last;
When things are totaled one & all--
Push back the door, then you fall--
Down the stairway to 7-11..........