Mother MO
This isn’t a conversation about threads or cores
Or on how many transistor and Bytes you need
To send God back to the Moses’ tricky arsenal.
It is all about etiquette and ties
Would you answer an urgent support call
At say... 3 a. m. If it is justified?
Of course sir, I say with a trained convincement.
I know how to treat the guys at first line
Zero downtime maintenance
And no single point of failure
Means nothing in real life.
If you are in bad terms with these guys
Mother MO is a redundant cluster of Mamas
Each one with 32 processors
Each one with 32 terabytes of RAM.
With Fibre channel connectivity inside
Bankruptcy notes, credit approvals, death sentences or love letters
It doesn’t matters if they come or go, or if they are yours or mine
All of them are crunched the same through the guts of Mother MO
By zillions of transistors at the always constant speed of light
When it is fog?
When it is cloud?
Asked me this morning a beloved child.
I can’t tell
But when this guy asked me about clouds
I was ready to say:!Quite of time in them!
That is a truth, but unrelated.
The same happened with the columnar compression theme
We the both know this is all about brands, teams, flavors,
The fancy things successful guys can throw in their flakes,
The camaraderie when occasional mistakes
And to find enough time to show boys mountains making clouds
Hope the One behind the victorious armies
Convince the subcontractor behind this man
This job is for one of my resume and skills
I’m missing the superb smell of a brand new car
