Who, Me? Once again, gentle readerfolk, it is time for the Reg's weekly confessional – Who, Me? in which we recount readers' technical anti-triumphs. This one follows on from recent tales of big red buttons, and goes one better.
This week meet someone we'll Regomize as "Hal", who recounted for us a tale from the epoch of the mainframe, when glass cathedrals full of sacred boxes stood protected and air-conditioned. In this faraway time, none but the appropriately credentialed could pass through the sliding doors and gaze upon the IBM-emblazoned bezels of these mighty boxes.
Well, the appropriately credentialed and their interns. More on that in a sec.
One night, Hal tells us, a disaster happened. The mainframes had, all at once, shut down. The terminals to which they spoke...