>A Little Byte Music >(Virtual St. Entropy, IX) > >'Twas the night before Christmas, the season of wonder: >Not a creature was stirring throughout the rotunda. >Far up in the museum, I was feeling *non grata*, >Facing my computer and mountains of data. > >The director had called me and ordered in haste: >"All of the data must, pronto, be based!" >So alone I keyboarded, in lab coat and cap, >Wishing I'd time for a long winter's nap. > >The stockings were hung by the chimney with care >(At least, on my web page, they were virtually there, >As was the chimney, as was the heat. >A trick of programming, and that's no mean feat) > >When all of a sudden, there arose such a clatter >I opened up Windows, hit ALT-DEL-GRAYMATTER. >The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow >Looked almost too real to be pixels aglow. > >When what to my poor red-rimmed eyes filled the screen >But a miniature sleigh that could scarcely be seen. >With a small animation so jerky and faint >I knew it was Nick, the old holiday Saint. > >More rapid than email his coursers they came, >While he gestured (no sound card) and called each by name: >"On Fortran*! On SELGEM*! On Taxir* and Cobal*! >On C+*, on FOCUS*, we're here to a-MUSE* all!" > >I tried fast to exit (I could run but not hide!), >When down the virtual chimney St. Nick did slide. > >He was dressed all in red with a boot and reboot; >He spoke not (no sound card) but went straight to his loot. >From his bag he drew punch cards, a disc like a platter, >And an amber-screened monitor with keyboard that clattered. > >With his 1200 bps modem and those floppy discs >I knew I was looking at Second Hand Nick's. >And his programming language, so much yadda-yadda >I knew if I used it I'd database >nada.< > >"I can't use these," I whimpered, "they're not worth my per diem." >He looked up and mouthed "Well, this IS a museum!" >"Please, Santa," I pleaded, "I need automation, >How else can I process all this information?" > >"Not to worry," shrugged Santa, "no need to panic, >It's simply a question of applied informatics!" >And then, as I watched, both stunned and elated, >Like DNA my data were all replicated. > >Instead of data entry for many long nights >Santa soon filled my hard drive with millions of bytes. >I knew my director would love it, of course, >He coveted data, whatever the source. > >I leaped to my keyboard to do a report >But the whole program crashed with a sudden retort. >The hardware was outdated, the software was fried >The monitor was flashing "Access Denied." >Of all of the data that Santa bestowed, >There wasn't a bit of it I could download. > >Then laying a finger inside of his nose >Old Nick sneezed as up the virtual chimney he rose. >He leaped to his sleigh, to his team gave a chuckle >And then they were gone--boot, belt, and buckle. >But I heard him exclaim, not without aplomb, >"Merry Christmas to all--from Santa-dot-Com!" > Merry Christmas and Happy new year to all - including grinches! Greg Koos