And here I sit, swilling black coffee and thinking dark brooding thoughts about the Rats that infest the Kingdom of Y2k. And the futility of it all. (I get like this when my ISP won't answer his phone).
Why, I ask myself, do I bother? It is not as if Y2k is a new or unexplained phenomenon. There are more websites and published articles than you can shake a stick at. Too many, probably. More Y2k Links is sitting at about 1776 entries, and I have not been particularly aggressive about updating it recently. The simple message is getting lost in a vast sea of technobabble and conflicting views.
You wouldn't think that a simple thing like a date could cause conflict, would you? Everybody knows about dates. Even the Day-Care Mob know what a date is, and even what date today is.
(Although I have come across certain Pointy Haired Managers who have trouble telling the time of day, let alone what year it is).
Simple. Rational. Basic.
Until you start talking about the optimal format for a date and why YYYY-MM-DD would be so convenient to use and how many problems using it would solve.
Instant Outrage. Heresy. Violation of Rights.
I suppose we get used to how things are based on our earliest experiences and feel threatened when someone suggests we change them. If it was good enough for Grandpa, then it's good enough for me. It is a visceral sort of thing. Emotional even. Patriotic feelings are aroused.
But many years ago I learnt a basic fact. Computers and Computing are not about Technology, they are about People.
And also that the Industry is based on Three Pillars: People are Illogical, Machines can and sometimes do go wrong and Management Don't. The rest is history.
You cannot use Logic to overcome Emotion. You can argue until you are blue in the face that it is logical that dates are numbers, and that numbers have a convention that the high orders are on the left. You don't say 1 ounce 2 pounds, you say 2 pounds 1 ounce. The bigger thing goes on the left.
We don't have this argument with Time, do we? We don't say it's 30:01, we say it's 1:30. Hours are bigger than minutes so they go on the left.
No way. Uh Uh. Month-Day-Year. A totally illogical jumble.
Of course it's Day-Month-Year in Europe (but they get everything backwards don't they).
Now of course IBM in their infinite wisdom have exuded MM-DD-YYYY, the so-called "American Date". The Founding Fathers are probably turning in their graves.
And these poor ridiculous Y2k activists think that Y2k is a Computer Problem? Huh. What Dummies.
The day we replace Homo Sapiens ("Thinking Man" - what a laugh) with Homo Digitus (RS232 port behind the ear and Silicon implants for Brains) will be the day we start to make progress on Y2k.
And it won't happen in the next two years. The patents won't be processed by then.
I wonder if I can wangle an invite to Hilary's Millennium Madness Party?
I suppose a word of explanation is required about the eccentric behaviour of the tumbledryer.
The shells being polished are not of the seashore variety, but of the brass case .357 magnum type. I did not know this, but when you have shot them off there is all sorts of burnt gunk left inside.
So. The Boss takes a strong Linen Money Bag and she puts the shells into it. Next comes a couple of cups of dry barley. (Sago also works, but not rice. Rice gets clogged.) Add 1 teaspoonful Brasso or other liqud metal cleaner. Sew up the bag, and plonk it in the tumbledryer for an hour or two.
Boom-shicka-Boom.
When the shells emerge they are beautifully crisp, shiny and clean. But sometimes the 9 mils get stuck inside the 44 Magnums and you need to use long nose pliers to get them out.
PS Don't eat the barley.