Although a planned and clearly implemented syslog and Simple Network
Management Protocol (SNMP) solution is the first step to ensuring continuous
system operation within a network, it removes much of the management
intelligence from the networking equipment itself. Using syslog and SNMP
configurations does allow you to filter and forward events and messages to
specific locations, but the parsing and correlating of information takes
place on separate Network Management Stations (NMSs).
With the introduction into JUNOS of intuitive GUI interfaces and
powerful onboard scripting, the network management intelligence can be
shared by both the NMSs and the networking equipment itself. The variety of
interfaces allows all levels of network engineers and techniciansfrom
crusty old-timers who were brought up handcoding assembly language or
writing their first BASIC programs for the C64, to kids fresh out of
community college who dont comprehend the simple beauty of lines such as
look lantern and the text-based RPGs to which some of us were addictedto
participate proactively in managing the network to minimize system downtime.
Although the debate between GUI and command-line interface (CLI) management
tools will no doubt rage on, multiple management interfaces do provide a
custom-tailored management tool to network technicians and engineers of all
On April 1, 2010, California’s only motor vehicle plant, New United Motor Manufacturing, Inc. (NUMMI), shut down. NUMMI, which opened in 1984, had been a joint venture between GM and Toyota. Both companies stood to benefit from the partnership. Toyota wanted to open a plant in the US to escape import restrictions threatened by the US Congress in reaction to the inexorably falling market share of US auto manufacturers. For GM, it was a chance to learn how to build small cars profitably and to study the Toyota Production System (TPS) that had enabled Japanese auto manufacturers to consistently deliver the highest quality in the industry at costs that undercut those of US manufacturers.13
For the joint venture, GM chose the site of their shuttered Fremont Assembly plant. GM’s Fremont plant was one of their worst in terms of both the quality of the cars produced and the relationship between managers and workers. By the time the plant closed in 1982, labor relations had almost completely broken down, with workers drinking and gambling on the job. Incredibly, Toyota agreed to the demand of United Auto Workers’ negotiator Bruce Lee to rehire the union leaders from Fremont Assembly to lead the workforce at NUMMI. The workers were sent to Toyota City in Japan to learn the TPS. Within three months, the NUMMI plant was producing near-perfect quality cars—some of the best quality in America, as good as those coming from Japan—at much lower cost than Fremont Assembly had achieved. Lee had been right in his bet that “it was the system that made it bad, not the people.”
To his very fingerprints, each individual is essentially unique. By the same token, society inevitably appears alien to him. This constitutes an ever-present dilemma that can never be finally resolved. But it gives rise to ongoing processes of communication, so that the problem is not so much a matter of authenticity (in any case a value judgement) as one involving the degree to which informational flow can be negotiated. As Jaspers (1963) put it, “Truth is communicability” (rather than, as some would have it, a special preserve of madness).
Levi-Strauss (1949) has suggested that we cannot, though we will, evade the law of exchange, for it is upon exchange that the whole of the cultural structure is built. To enjoy power without sharing it, to separate it from its informational roots, from society and communion, always ends in disaster. Currently, for example, the economic power of bankers bears no relationship to the real wealth and productivity potential of the modern world; as a result, mankind itself is being treated as a form of pollution, the “population explosion” in the constraining ethos of an effete accountancy system, where money, not wealth, is power. Form has become confused with substance. Generative purpose gives way to futile obsessionalism. Humanity is being gelded by guilt.
First, I read Michael Eigen. His was like no other writing I had yet encountered on the inner life of psychoanalytic thinkers. He wrote about therapy from the point of view of a therapist participating fully, with heart and soul, in the frustrating process of psychotherapy in which time flows forwards and backwards, until tiny points of transparency, incremental miracles, appear in the seemingly impenetrable armour of life.
I have always been suspicious of psychoanalysis's reductive instincts—in English slang, therapists are called “shrinks”, and for good reason. Analysts, it seemed to me, want to kiss us and turn us into frogs, reveal reality as a war of instinctual urges, in which every desire is also a naked grab for power, and every strategy conceals an erection.
In Eigen's writing, there is room for everything except reduction—or escape. In The Psychoanalytic Mystic (1998), he shows us the traces of mystical experience, like suspended particles of gold dust, which can be seen at the margins of the great psychoanalytic theories, as if out of the corners of our eye, at the place where language and subjectivity have collided. Understanding is always born of ecstasy, he says, and ecstasy of the yearning for something unnamable, towards which we are drawn like moths to a candle, like mystics to God (Eigen, 2001).