Pessoal:

 candiato a score 5 no slashdot (www.slashdot.org)

 afinal, nem soh de coisas serias vivem geeks.

An oldie but goodie... (Score:2)
by StevenMaurer on Wed October 31, 14:29 (#2503482)
(User #115071 Info)

With apologies to Edgar Allen Poe ...

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
bed sheets, still I sat there doing spreadsheets. Having reached the bottom
line I took a floppy from the drawer, 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. But
the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token. "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 "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

With 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, and pressed again, but twice as hard.
I pleaded with the cursed machine: I begged and cried and then I swore. Now
in mighty 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 a dreadful
sight: a lightning bolt cut through the night. A gasp of horror overtook me,
shook me to my very 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 go. What demonic
nether world us wrought where lost 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 be one day be left to wander,
lost on some Plutonian shore, Pleading, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"



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