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Bigwig is a systems administrator at a public university
Hrairoo is the proprietor of a quality used bookstore
Kehaar is the head web developer for a regional newspaper
Woundwort is a professor of counseling at a private university

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September 03, 2003

Warsteiner Dunkel

Beer of the night. Rarely has one been so needed.

The are times when the sysadmin's job is a breeze, when those around you consider it akin to a salaried life of Riley. Those are good times. Other days it feels like being safety manager of the drunken toddler shift at the delicate glass objects factory.

I've been living the second life lately. I'd go into the details, but the thought of rehashing the last five days yet again makes me want to guzzle gin straight from the bottle.

However, I will tell you this. The average initial response time of Blackboard technical support to a critical ticket is measured in days right now, so I know I'm not alone in this particular circle of hell. Most of the worst problems we've managed to work through on our own, so things are slowly getting better. I'd hate to be a lone sysadmin at a small school running the new version right now--those guys are screwed.

On the plus side, I'm building up comp time like a madman.

What up until recently were almost hourly application crashes didn't leave much time for anything else, for all that we've hidden the outages, mostly, from the users. Half of system administration is preventing crashes. The other half is preventing the users from noticing the crashes that inevitably happen anyway.

So it's been busy. If I hadn't written most of Fowl Play on the weekend I would have posted nothing last night. As it was the post felt somewhat unfinished. There's a whole welfare allegory sitting there waiting to be mined, and I had to leave it out

I mean, what else would you call a story about a family of eight children with an absent father who live in public housing, surviving off the peanuts the public give them. Peanuts! If Make Way For Ducklings isn't a searing indictment of the Welfare State, then I don't know what it is. Feel free to do your own economic analysis; I haven't even considered the symbolical nature of the policemen scattered throughout the story.

Yes, I pay far too much attention my children's literature. Goldilocks and the Three Bears, for another instance. If the big bowl of porridge (Papa Bear's) is too hot and the medium sized bowl of porridge (Mama Bear's) is too cold, why is the smallest bowl of porridge (Baby Bear's) just right? The text clearly states that the bears leave the house because all of the bowls of porridge are too hot. Assuming a uniform rate of cooling for a given density of porridge, if anything the small bowl of porridge should be even colder than the medium sized bowl, not "just right."

Yet no matter how many times I explain this to Ngnat, she still insists that I relay the text to her as written.

Damn bears and their physics defying breakfast grains. One day I'm gonna have Davy Crockett save Godlilocks from the bears with his trusty rifle. That'll show them.


------------

Warsteiner is the third dunkel I've had in as many weeks. The San Miguel you can read about here. The other, Black Abbott, was so off-putting I didn't bother to write about it. It was overpoweringly sweet, so much so that I wondered if the beer had become spoiled, though the Oxymoronic Scotsman liked it a good deal.

As have others. This guy, for instance.

I much prefer the Warsteiner. It has a thinner body and mild sweetness that to my mind is much more characteristic of the dunkel style. In comparison, downing the Black Abbott was like drinking watered down syrup. There's also a more roasted flavor to the Warsteiner, like a weak irish coffee. It's smooth and refreshing, with a carbonated bite of hops at the end. I'd drink another, but this one was the last of the six pack the OxyScot brought with him.

I'll have the last of the San Miguels instead, and call it a night. It'll be the first time I'll have head on pillow before one in the morning in a week.

Exit, to the strains of Poor, Poor Pitiful Me.

Posted by Bigwig at September 3, 2003 09:10 PM | TrackBack
Postscript:
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Comments

A friend of mine got me onto Warsteiner Premium Verum a few years ago..he picked up the habit from German soldiers he knew here in Canada. But I've not tried the Dunkel, have to give that a try if I can find it.

Posted by: Dr_Funk at September 4, 2003 12:48 AM

This reminds me eerily of the correspondence we had about Vignette, et. al. last winter.

Ain't lock-in on an, er, investment the f***ing greatest?

Posted by: ben at September 4, 2003 04:16 AM

Abu H,

Yes, it has. Something on trolls.

Looks like a powerful beer. At least, the package is powerful.

Posted by: Stephen at September 4, 2003 01:04 PM

Good luck, Bigwig. Hope you get back to the salad days soonest.

Posted by: Kevin at September 4, 2003 11:06 PM
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