TITLE The Bastich By Hart
PANEL 1 (BASTICH approaches the SENIOR ADMIN in the machine room.) SENIOR ADMIN: Hi, Bastich... Welcome to the MACHINE ROOM. BASTICH: Cool... Um, I was just wondering... How long will it be before we can expect the servers to be back up..?
PANEL 2 (The SENIOR ADMIN speaks.) SENIOR ADMIN: Oh...not for another few hours at least. That power failure fried our UPS, and we're not putting the system back on-line until the replacement gets here.
PANEL 3 (BASTICH stands in front of a gang drooling of LAB ZOMBIES.) BASTICH: Uh, then what am I supposed to do with these LAB ZOMBIES that oozed out of the labs when their digital lifelines were severed..? ZOMBIE 1: if(!self.InLab()){delete(self);exit(1);};
PANEL 4 (The SENIOR ADMIN speaks to BASTICH.) SENIOR ADMIN: I see the problem... you need to do something to keep them occupied until we fix everything. BASTICH: Such as..? SENIOR ADMIN: I don't know... take them out to lunch or something. BASTICH: Well, I AM on the clock. Why not?
PANEL 5 (BASTICH holds up his index finger, gesturing to the ZOMBIES to follow.) BASTICH: Okay, everybody, single file. We're going on a little field trip... ZOMBIE 2: Fry's..? BASTICH: Sure, if you get a Value Meal... Well, here goes nothing.
PANEL 6 (Outside, the ZOMBIES recoil in the harsh light of the sun as BASTICH stands in the doorway.) ZOMBIE 3: NOOO... not the SHINING ORB!! ZOMBIE 4: Where's..soft, hypnotic, ever-present buzz of technology? BASTICH: This, perhaps, wasn't one of my smartest moves...
CREDITS Bastich (c) 1997 Joshua Adam Hart
Commentary
The Helpdesk Lab Zombies sub-thread continues!
The machine room was a sacred space where all of the Unix servers and other critical hardware were protected from the rabble behind locked doors. My Helpdesk and lab monitor responsibilities didn't require access to the machine room, so it always felt like a privilege whenever I managed to con my way in.
Like most machine rooms, there were racks upon racks of computers and other devices with blinking panels and cables everywhere. And of course it was deafeningly loud as all of this power-hungry machinery ran their fans trying mightily not to burst into flames.
The pun in panel 5 is a reference to Fry's Electronics, the late, great tech superstore where I spent many a wasted afternoon during my summers in the Silicon Valley.
There's another example of questionable code in panel 3, but I leave it as an exercise for the reader to identify all of the problems.