At one point in the development of organic/biotech computing devices, it was necessary to provide indicators of their internal state for their operators.
The resulting bioluminescent demi-fungus was named, inevitably, "blinkenlichen".
Nom - https://eldraeverse.com/2024/11/24/nom/
The diet of states.
A request for MoronMail:
https://open.substack.com/pub/randombytes/p/things-that-should-exist-moronmail
The MTA for tired people and dumb internal applications.
I am begging you, with tears in my eyes, to write some better, meaning existent, diagnostics.
To clarify my k8s cussin', it would appear I blamed flannel unfairly. Well, mostly. It's this bloody thing:
https://github.com/kubernetes/kubernetes/issues/123120
Which means that a router glitching its prefix delegation post-power-failure over *here* can show up as k8s refusing to come up over *there*, in a miracle of intuitive obviousness.
You know, for something designed to prevent downtime, it's amazing how much of mine is caused by Kubernetes shitting the bed.
Today's contestant is flannel deciding that it's going to contact the k8s API to get its configuration over a network that doesn't exist yet, because it's administered by flannel.
Genius!
@cerebrate My only quibble is that I think half a byte should be spelled "nybl" instead. ;)
As I migrate more posts on 'verse computing, I observe:
Those people with buttsticks about "byte" and "nybble" being too silly are going to have to continue to suffer post-contact through "playte", "dynner", "feyst", and "banquyt".
(Industry-standard word lengths in the seventh millennium are banquyts. Conveniently, this means that IIP addresses are still quadwords.)
“Have we been able to able to contact London?”
“Negative, Commander. All of our primary and backup channels remain down. We have also been unable to make contact with any other British submarines.”
“It’s been four days, now. I think it’s time. It’s safe to assume something catastrophic has occurred.”
The commander looked solemnly toward another senior member of the crew.
“Fetch the letter.” He said.
“Absolutely, sir.” The officer said, moving out of the submarine’s control room.
“You see,” the commander said, addressing the remaining crew. “Every Prime Minister prepares letters of last resort for British Submarines. It contains instructions on what we should do in the event that the government has fallen and we cannot make contact with them. No one has ever opened one of these letters, let alone had to follow the instructions.”
The senior officer returned with a sealed envelope, and handed it to the commander. The commander proceeded to open the envelope. He took out a folded piece of paper and paused.
“We are a family aboard this submarine, and we may be all we have left for one another. For that reason, I will read this aloud, so we all know the plan at the same time.”
He unfolded the paper.
“Here goes,” he said, taking a deep breath. “It reads, HP Laserjet P1102W Self Test and Device Configuration.”
The Commander stopped and looked up.
“I believe they may have put the wrong page in.”
Science fiction writer. Speaker to minerals. Consensualist. Illeist. Pony and kanmusu stan. Can call spirits from the vasty deep!