Word: Aggiornamento

aggiornamento

noun, plural aggiornamenti 

 [uh-jawr-nuh-men-tee; Italian ahd-jawr-nah-men-tee]

1.

the act of bringing something up to date to meet current needs.

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                The room was well lit and cool, thanks to the windows and air conditioning.  Theo was surprised it had been on the ground floor, since most IT departments he had experience with were located on either an upper floor, or the basement.  But it was fine.  It made it easier on him, even if the building was small.  He looked around and the first thing that jumped out at him was the lack of technology.  He was not expecting the place to be lined with computers and monitors, but there was nothing.  It looked like any other office in the place.

                “Hello?” He called.

                There was a shuffling and scraping sound from deeper in the office, seeming to come from behind a wall.  The wall in question opened into a well camouflaged door, and an older man popped out.  He looked to be in his mid-70s, with wiry grey hair and facial hair that told the world he had stopped pretending to care about it.

                “Yes?  Can I help you?” The man asked.

                 “Uh, yeah, I’m Theo Cooper.  I’m starting here today.”

                The man blinked a few times, but said nothing.  His forehead became more wrinkled than it already was for a moment, before a wide smile came to his face.

                “Ah, right, right, right.  Theo, of course.  I didn’t realize that was today.  Oh well. Come in, let me show you around.”

                There was not much to be shown.  The IT department consisted of just two people, and as many rooms.  The old man, who introduced himself as Henry, still did his best to give a tour of the place.  The entry room was nice enough.  There was a single desk devoid of any decoration or tool that dominated the room.  It also contained a few posters on the wall, and a bookshelf lined with actual books. 

                The room behind the semi-hidden door was smaller, darker, and warmer than the first.  It was lit by a single dim bulb, and contained exactly two pieces of furniture: A metal table and matching chair.  Sitting on that table were two objects.  One was a standard office phone.  The other was a large, boxy computer monitor. 

                Theo followed the thick cables coming out of the monitor and found an old, clunky computer tower set up under the table.  A bead of sweat formed on his forehead.

                “What, uh, what’s that?” Theo asked, pointing at the computer.

                “That?  That’s our computer.” Henry said proudly.  “Best machine you’ll ever see.”

                Theo took a deep breath.  Just because it looked old meant little.  He had once built a top of the line PC that looked like an old Apple II.  It could be the same with this one.

                “So, it’s custom made, right?” Theo asked.

                “What?  No.  Why would I change anything?  It was perfect right out of the box.”  Theo cringed.  Henry continued talking.  “5 megs of RAM, two disk drives, one floppy and one solid, so we have speed and versatility in one package.  Plus, it’s hooked up to the fastest internet you’ll ever find.”

                “Please don’t tell me that’s a dial up connection.”

                “Of course it is.  What else would it be?” 

                Theo nearly fainted.  He knew older people were out of touch with current technology, but how could this be?  Surely someone would have given the old man an upgrade at some point.  He was head of IT, after all.

                “I know, I know, it’s great.”  Henry said.  “Takes your breath away, doesn’t it?  Come here, give it a spin.  I guarantee you’ll never use anything else.”

                Theo’s body was shaking as he sat in the chair.  The computer was on already, and he was grateful that he did not have to go through the painful boot up process of an older computer.  But it also allowed him to see the display.

                “This…this isn’t Windows ’95, is it?”

                “Best operating system available.” Henry said.  “Come on, don’t be shy.  Give it a try.”

                Theo did as Henry asked.  Just as he thought, the computer was painfully slow, hard to use, and lacked the necessary features included in modern PCs.  Not only that, but the monitor was problematic as well.  It had terrible contrast, it shook and flickered periodically, and Theo counted ten dead pixels. 

                “Uh, Henry, is this a joke?  You know, hazing the new guy or something?”

                “Of course not.  I would never do something like that.”

                “Oh.  I see.  Um, are all the computers here like this?”

                “No.” Theo breathed a sigh of relief.  “This bad boy’s the best machine in the place.  Nothing else can match its power.”

                “I think I get why I they wanted me so bad.” Theo said quietly.  “Henry, I think it’s time for a change.”

                “Always nice to hear a suggestion.  Shoot.”

                “We need to upgrade.  Badly.”

                “Upgrade?  Why would we need to change a top of the line computer?”

                “It was top of the line when I was in diapers.  Seriously, we need new computers.  These days, we use gigs, not megs, and nobody uses dialup anymore.  Get us a satellite connection, or fiber optic if you can get it.  And an OS that’s actually getting support and updates.  Seriously, this is old, outdated tech that nobody should be using.”

                Henry’s face fell.  “Now who’s telling jokes?”

                “My phone is faster and more powerful than this dinosaur.  Trust me, we’re upgrading this entire office.”

                “No we’re not.  What we have here is all the computing power we’ll ever need.”

                Theo thought about it for a moment.  “Tell you what, how about we make a bet.  I’ll bring in a cheap computer, low end of the current market and fresh off the shelf.  Then we’ll see which does better, yours or the new one.  If yours does better, we’ll keep it.  If the new one does better, we upgrade.”

                It was Henry’s turn to think.  “No way some cheap little toy will do better than my beast of a machine.  You’re on.”

                Theo let out a sigh of relief.  There was hope yet.   

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How would someone like that even become the head of IT?  Even a small company would've fired him ages ago.  Guess he has connections.  Maybe the boss' dad or granddad?

Word: Clandestine

clandestine

[klan-des-tin]

adjective

1. characterized by, done in, or executed with secrecy or concealment, especially for purposes of subversion or deception; private or surreptitious:

Their clandestine meetings went undiscovered for two years.

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                His breathing and footsteps were slow and controlled.  He needed to move as quietly as possible, and everything he did was for that purpose.  It was not easy though.  The hallways were made of metal and the floor was bare.  Anyone walking normally would produce a dreadful echo.  It took immense effort and concentration to keep his footfalls silent in such an environment.

                He approached a corner and peaked out just enough to see around it.  Nobody immediately visible, but he held his weapon at the ready, just in case.  The small, air powered dart gun was loaded with tranquilizing darts that could knock out a charging horse.  It might not have been as lethal as its more explosive counterpart, but it was nearly silent.  That was more important in such a clandestine mission as this one.  Besides, killing people drew too much unwanted attention.  A sleeping guard would cause some eye rolls.  A dead one would cause an alarm to sound.

                The dart gun’s only real weakness was ammo.  Each clip only held five darts, and he could only carry three extra clips.  Hardly ideal, but he had been running reconnaissance on the facility for weeks in order to learn guard movements and the placement of the security systems.  With any luck, he would be able to complete his mission without using a single dart. 

                He froze.  The sound of footsteps echoing in the hallway.  Then voices.  Two of them, and both the steps and voices were big and heavy.  Guards, no question.  They were coming from around a corner though, so there was a chance they would simply overlook him.  He flattened his body against the wall with his gun at the ready.  He held his breath.  Sure enough, the happily chatting guards overlooked him as they walked by.  A few seconds passed before he dared to breathe.

                He proceeded to the location he knew to be the facility’s control center.  It was much too late for anyone to be in there.  Maybe a tech or two, if he was unlucky, but nothing substantial.  He slowly opened the door, being careful not to make a sound.  He scanned the room, finding it just as empty as he hoped it would be.

                He entered and closed the door just as silently as he had opened it.  Choosing a computer at random, he pulled out the reason he could only carry three extra ammo clips:  a large electronic device that acted as a kind of automated hacker.  While he did not have much computer skills, the device would be able to crack open any system in seconds.  And from there, a small virus would be implanted that would give his employers full access to the facility’s systems without the facility’s staff ever being aware of it, even after the auto hacker was disconnected. 

                He stood guard while the auto hacker did its job.  Seconds felt like minutes as he watched the door, unmoving.  A tiny, almost inaudible beep told him the job was done.  The system was hacked and the virus was implanted.  He breathed a sigh of relief, unplugged the auto hacker and headed for the door.

                He reached for the knob just before he came face to face with a guard.  The two of them looked at each other for a moment.  Only a moment, and then a tiny puff of air could be heard and a dart found itself in the guard’s neck.  The guard slumped over, suddenly asleep. 

                He sighed and prepared to drag the sleeping man into the room.  He should have known.  Nothing ever went perfectly.

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For best results, read this story with either the Mission Impossible or James Bond theme playing in the the background.  

Word: Concatenation

concatenation

[kon-kat-n-ey-shuh n]

noun

1. the act of concatenating.

2. the state of being concatenated; connection, as in a chain.

3. a series of interconnected or interdependent things or events.

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                “It’ll never work.  You know that, right?” Darren said.

                “It’ll work.” Peter replied while admiring his work.

                The machine was a mass of parts put together to fulfill some greater purpose, although most people would not be able to tell what that purpose was.  The gears and wires running around the exterior were neatly arranged, to give it some aesthetic appeal, but the inside was a chaotic mess that only made sense to its creator.  To the common man, it looked very impressive.  To anyone who knew anything about mechanical engineering, it was a monstrosity.  To Peter, it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

                “No, it won’t.  There’s too much stuff going on for it to work properly.”

                “You’re just jealous you didn’t think of it first.”

                Darren sighed and shook his head lightly.  “No, because I’m not dumb enough to think that…thing will ever work.  Look, it’s simple.  The more complex the machine, the more likely it is that something in it will fail.  Your machine, if you can call it that, is complex unto impossibility.  Every single part is inherently dependent on every other part.  It’s like the world’s most complex, circular Rube Goldberg machine, but not as fun to watch.  If so much as a screw is even a tiny bit loose, it’ll all come crashing down.”

                “Well, it’s a good thing that every single part is working perfectly, isn’t it?” Peter said firmly.

                Darren took a deep breath.  How could Peter not see the many, many flaws in his design?  The entire thing was like a chain made entirely of weak links that was arranged in a big loop and tied off with a twist tie.  And yet Peter was treating it like it was the best made piece of machinery every built.

                “Pete, you’ve heard of Murphy’s Law, right?” Darren said.

                “Yes, I know it.  But it doesn’t matter.  I’ve taken that into account, trust me.  I’ve calculated for every possible failure of every single part, and found ways of making it so that none of them occur.”

                “You know you’re inviting disaster by saying that, right?”

                Peter looked at Darren with a confident smirk.  He held up a small, rectangular object lined with buttons.  The on switch was pressed, and the machine turned on.  It hummed and whirred as the parts started working, driving the machine to fulfill its task. 

                “See?  I told you it would work.” Peter said.

                “Wait for it.” Darren replied.

                A few seconds later, a sound came from the machine.  It was not a sound it was supposed to make.  The sound was a tiny tinkling sound, like two tiny pieces of metal hitting each other quickly.  The small mechanical problem soon became a big one.  The many interconnected parts started coming apart, dislodging themselves beginning from the first failure.  The machine collapsed in on itself.  Peter cried out in failure and fell to his knees as he watched his creation fail.

                “See?  I told you it wouldn’t work.”

                 

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Murphy's Law:  Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong.  Never challenge it.  It will always win.  And when you think you've planned for every problem, you haven't.

Name: Whoosis

whoosis

or whosis

[hoo-zis]

noun, plural whoosises. Informal.

1. an object or person whose name is not known or cannot be recalled:

It's the whoosis next to the volume control.

2. a person or thing considered typical or illustrative:

the usual paragraph about the party given by Mme. Whoosis.

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He knew these people.  They were his coworkers.  They had been his coworkers for years.  How many years?  He forgot.  But he knew them.  He remembered many things about them, so he knew who they were.  He just could not remember their names.  He used to know them, he was sure about that.  But for some reason, he simply could not place any of the names to the faces that he knew so well.

In fact, he could not remember his own name either.  He could remember everything else, just not that.  He knew his age, his birthday, his wife’s birthday.  Everything that was worth remembering about his life, he remembered.  He even remembered a few things that were not particularly worth remembering.  But his name.  That was the one thing he could not remember no matter how hard he tried.  It was like it had been erased from his mind along with all the other names he should know.

“Tony, there you are.” The statement came from a small, round man.  He knew the man to be his boss.  Was Tony his name?  It felt familiar.

His boss went on giving him his daily assignments and praising him for a job well done the previous day.  He remembered why.  He had given a presentation that had earned the company a substantial contract deal.  The only reason the short, round man had not thrown him a party was because everyone involved had to remain professional.  Besides, there was still work to be done on the contract before it took effect.

He promised his boss to keep up the good work and that he would get all the accounts and such squared away as soon as he could.  His mind went through the conversation.  There was a name mentioned at the beginning that was presumably his.  What was it again?  Tom?  Terry?  It was a T name, he knew that much.  But the specifics escaped him.  Why was that?  It had been less than five minutes since the name was mentioned, and yet he could not for the life of him remember it.

Nobody else seemed to be having troubles with names.  They called out to him, greeting him with that name that simply would not stick in his mind.  He answered his coworker’s greetings with as much enthusiasm as he ever had.  He did not want anyone to think anything was wrong.  That would only bring unnecessary trouble.

He sat down at the desk he knew for sure to be his.  He started to do the job he had been doing for nearly a decade.  It was practically second nature to him by now.  He knew that he was not losing his memory.  He could remember his first girlfriend from high school, after all.  Well, everything but her name.  He had remembered it yesterday, just not today. 

His fingers moved over his keyboard as he thought about his recent predicament.  How could he suddenly forget everyone’s name?  It did not make any sense.  He had not done anything unusual, certainly nothing that would create a loss of such specific memories. 

He came to the conclusion that he would not find an answer while sitting at his desk.  He would start investigating as well as he could after work.  He just had to hope that he could get through the day without needing anyone’s name.

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I have some trouble remembering names.  It takes me a few days to really remember names and faces and such.  Of course, that assumes that I see the person or persons in question often enough.   

Also, this word definitely sounds like something Dr. Seuss would have come up with, doesn't it?