by Stephen Wills (with apologies to Lewis Carroll)
"You are old, engineer," the younger man said,
"And your beard, it has started to grey;
Yet still you insist on hacking the core--
pray tell, why develop this way?"
"In my youth," said the guru, "I trusted the profs;
And the lofty techniques they espoused
Yet over the years I've seen trends come and go
Few paradigms leave me aroused."
"They call you 'an ancient'," the knave did insist,
"In your day open source wasn't real;
Yet you stubbornly lavish it's virtues with praise
Will you not please explain, what's the deal?"
"In my day," said the sage, trying not to nod off,
"I revered copyrights and I. P.;
Then a young Harvard man stole a mouse and got rich
and left me exclaiming 'I see!'"
"The technology, Sir, that we use today"
Said the younger with voice most sincere
"Requires a new way of thinking of clouds;
Can you approach THAT without fear?"
"When I was your age, we invented those clouds;
And the boxes in which we applied them.
The derivative works that you tout as your own
Drive me to closer and closer to Cardizem!"
"You bend and you squint at your monitor bright,"
Said the youth with concern on his face,
"Yet you insist your skills match my own--
at your age do you think you should race?"
"Great Scott!" miffed the elder, with grimacing frown
"Is there nothing more useful to ask?
"With source that is open it's handled and so:
What the hell is a bandersnatch?!"
