Bits Bytes Chips Clocks
Bits in bytes on chips in box.
Bytes with bits and chips with clocks.
Chips in box on ether-docks.
Chips with bits come. Chips with bytes come.
Chips with bits and bytes and clocks come.
Look, sir. Look, sir. read the book, sir.
Let's do tricks with bits and bytes, sir.
Let's do tricks with chips and clocks, sir.
First, I'll make a quick trick bit stack.
Then I'll make a quick trick byte stack.
You can make a quick trick chip stack.
You can make a quick trick clock stack.
And here's a new trick on the scene.
Bits in bytes for your machine.
Bytes in words to fill your screen.
Now we come to ticks and tocks, sir.
Try to say this by the clock, sir.
Clocks on chips tick.
Clocks on chips tock.
Eight byte bits tick.
Eight bit bytes tock.
Clocks on chips with eight bit bytes tick.
Chips with clocks and eight byte bits tock.
Here's an easy game to play.
Here's an easy thing to say....
If a packet hits a pocket on a socket on a port,
and the bus is interrupted as a very last resort,
and the address of the memory makes your floppy disk abort
then the socket packet pocket has an error to report!
If your cursor finds a menu item followed by a dash,
and the double-clicking icon puts your window in the trash,
and your data is corrupted cause the index doesn't hash,
then your situation's hopeless, and your system's gunna crash.
You can't say this? What a shame, sir!
We'll find you another game, sir.
If the label on the cable on the table at your house
says the network is connected to the button on your mouse,
but your packets want to tunnel on another protocol,
that's repeatedly rejected by the printer down the hall,
and your screen is all distorted by the side-effects of gauss,
so your icons in the window are as wavy as a souse,
then you may as well reboot and go out with a bang,
cause as sure as I'm a poet, the sucker's gunna hang!
When the copy of your floppy's getting sloppy on the disk,
and the microcode instructions cause unnecessary risc,
then you have to flash your memory and you'll want to RAM your ROM.
quickly turn of your computer and be sure to tell your mom!
(God bless you Dr. Seuss wherever you are!)
When a party writes a poem and he puts it on the net,
He writes for love not money, and he takes what he can get.
He writes to bring you pleasure, that's the nature of the game.
He writes for recognition and he's sure to sign his name.
I wrote the poem in question, but this will make you laugh,
the version circulating, is my work cut in half!
Someone didn't like it, I guess that's a cinch.
It passed around the internet, until it met the Grinch.
I've never met the miscreant who edited my work,
but when I close my eyes and try, I can see the jerk!
The eyes are tiny pixels, close together you will find,
they're only separated by his narrow little mind.
His fingernails are dirty as he types on sticky keys,
He lurks around the network and takes whatever he sees.
He edits, chops, appropriates, and strips away my name,
A scoundrel on the internet, a lowdown dirty shame.
I'd like to find this filcher, so I'll offer this reward.
I'll give away my Mac SE, throw in the power cord.
If you will help me track him down and hang his internets
This information highwayman deserves what'er he gets.
An if we fail to find him, I'll hit him with a curse.
His hard disk will start spinning counter-clockwise in reverse.
His screen will start to flicker, and his mouse will chase a hearse.
I'll teach that hacking larcenist to tamper with my verse!
If you want to see my uncut work, take heart, it's still alive
It's in NetGuide, page eighty-six, for March of ninty-five.
The original Dr. Seuss inpersonator (accept no substitutes).
For more information see: http://www.gsm.cornell.edu/gene/clocktower.html