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|Tom Adelstein||O'Reilly Media|
Requirements for a Linux
We like Linux. Of all the Unix and Unix-like systems we’ve used, many now forgotten,* Linux is our favorite. It’s an excellent server platform, a good desktop, and the center of much innovation in the current computing world.
Linux probably has the broadest reach of any operating system, from tiny systems the size of phone jacks, to cell phones, to supercomputer clusters bigger than your high school. It has infiltrated the fields of telecommunications, embedded systems, satellites, medical equipment, military systems, computer graphics, and—last but not least—desktop computing.
In a relatively short time, Linux progressed from a Finnish hacker’s hobby to a toptier enterprise-level system backed by high rollers such as IBM and Oracle. The user base has grown from about 30,000 people in 1995 to hundreds of millions today.
During the Internet boom of the 1990s, many Unix administrators were surprised to find that Linux on PC hardware could outperform more expensive Unix workstations and servers. Many Windows and Novell administrators saw that Linux could handle DNS, email, and file services more reliably and with less support personnel than their current platforms. The growth of the Internet, and especially theSee more
|Toon Tellegen||Carcanet Press Ltd.|
Head Girl for Miss Elizabeth Candy
I had a headmistress who was more liberal than her laws, she had to tease the toupees of members of the board, shine the boots of 4 x 4s, wreath their passengers, dole out the assembly prayer like it was one of hers.
The deputy, on the other hand, haemorrhaged if you swore, checked your skirt with a ruler, supported the war, but my headmistress met Sophia Loren in 1954.
Past six, her cigarillo smoke jazzed up the corridor.
She planned to emigrate with her partner, defrock the priestess mums who trailed her round the shops to bless her trolley-contents, elevate their sprogs
(as if getting them their sodding grades wasn’t enough).
She planned a clock-defying journey to a piano bar where women of a certain type, the Old School Debonair, who never married, luckily, and found their joys elsewhere, would tryst in tilted bowler hats, reciting Baudelaire.
But the league tables are merciless, they hound you till you die then conservatise your spirit at that bake-sale in the sky.See more
|Mervyn Peake||Carcanet Press Ltd.||ePub|
Deliria was seven foot five
And Jones was five foot seven
Deliria she gobbled fruit,
And Jones – he dreamed of heaven.
In great thick dusty books he read
And hardly ever went to bed
Before it was eleven.
One day when they had settled down
To face the other way,
A yellow lion in his prime
Crept through the mountains grey,
And – smiling like a buttercup,
Pulled off his socks and ate them up –
There is no more to say.
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