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Hooray for IT.

Yesterday at work, a fellow called in about an email message stuck in the inbox. (It happens from time to time.) There is a procedure for dealing with this. It involves sending an instant message to the Smoking Red Cube Badge Guy and having him do a thing. So that's what I did. "Go ahead and refresh it," I said cheerfully.
"I don't know what magic wand you waved, but it's gone!" the guy on the other end of the phone said.
"The right one," I said smugly.

I like this job.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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