Villanelle Fanfic

I really need root access on this server.
My root partition's borked and now I'm starving.
Sudo, I tell you, make for me a sandwich.

The most restrictive of all ACLs
Prevents me from compiling a hoagie.
I really need root access on this server.

My swap space melts like Stanley's troops at Bosworth.
I can't hack RAID on Pixy Stix and Malmsey.
Sudo, you hear me, make for me a sandwich.

Despite that little incident on Tuesday
(I think I might have eaten all of /etc)
I really need root access on this server.

Six more accounts were compromised by lunchtime.
...I wonder where my ssh key is?
Sudo, fer chrissake, make for me a sandwich.

I'm sure I had real work to do this evening.
(All due respect to Dorothy, Mike, and Randall.)
My kingdom for root access on this server.
Sudo, barada, niktolp, oy, a sandwich.

Postlinea: This is type-two fanfic -- if you don't know the source material, you're now staring at the page with narrowed eyes and wondering who let me out of my hamster wheel. With due respect to the risk of explaining a joke, let me introduce Dorothy, Mike, and Randall.

I really did delete all of /etc on a machine a few weeks ago. Important tip: don't exit your sudo shell until you've fixed it.

And, while I'm getting my forms in your peanut butter... rec.arts.sf.written strayed into a discussion on hard-to-spell names. Fantasy author Brenda Clough lamented:

There is no limit to how my surname (all my husband's fault) may be pronounced. The wonders of our English tongue.
I replied:

Great Vowel Shifts may come and go --
The clough cloughs as she cloughs the clough.

Wipe the sweat of spelling from your brow --
The clough cloughs as she cloughs the clough.

Fling the fetters of grammarye off --
The clough cloughs as she cloughs the clough.

Let the gods of language leave in a huff --
The clough cloughs as she cloughs the clough.

Such literal miracles will always belong you:
The wonders of our English tongue.

Nobody paid much mind. I'm pretty pleased with it, anyhow.

-- May 27, 2008.

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