Files before D&DO

[Sir Taleisin The Seer]

'Files before play, or so the patcher had to say
not another computer was stirring, not even a DOS.
The ports were all open by the swift input of a commandline,
in hopes that the 1072111650th file would soon be there.

The other games were nestled all snug in their subfiles,
while visions of defragmentation danced in their headers.
And MOBO in her tower, and I in my tinfoil hat,
had just settled our brains for a long download's nap.

When out on the wires there arose such a conflict,
I sprang from my computer chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the windows I flew like a shockwaveflash,
tore open the control panel, and threw up the network connection.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
gave the lustre of midday to objects below,
when, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny gnomes.


With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be 1072111650.
More rapid than eagles, his coursers they came,
and he whistled and shouted and called them by name:

"Now Data! Now Dorix!
Now, Procket and Vixxklix!
On, Cog! On, Cluster!
On, Dongle and Beta!
To the top of the IO Queue!
To the top of the File Stack!
Now dash away! Dash away!
Dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky
so up to the IO the coursers they flew,
with the sleigh full of webpages, and 1072111650 too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the wires
the prancing and pawing of each little foot.
As I drew in my head and was turning around,
down the ethernet 1072111650 came with a bound.

It was dressed all in bits, from his header to his footer,
and his pixels were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of files it had flung on its back,
and it looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

Its eyes--how they twinkled! Its data, how merry!
Its cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
Its droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
and the beard on its chin was as white as the snow.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in its teeth,
and the smoke it encircled his header like a wreath.
It had a broad face and a little round belly,
that shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of silicon.

It was chubby and plump, a right jolly old file,
and I laughed when I saw it, in spite of myself.
A wink of its eye and a twist of its header
soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

It spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
and filled all the subfolders, then turned with a jerk.
And laying its finger aside of its nose,
and giving a nod, up the ethernet it rose.


It sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, 'ere he drove out of sight,


"Happy Download to all, and to all a good LD!"

[Kamintar]

Pretty good, man. Nothing like an old ad-lib.