Glitch Forces Mars Probe Shut-Off
TheEvilOverlord writes to tell us that BBC News is reporting that a 'glitch' has forced the mars probe to switch into a "safe-mode" switching several of its systems off. Perhaps it is just an education tool to show martians the meaning of BSOD.
First Post
I AM A FISH!
I'm sure it's running Windows CE...
Someone over at NASA hit CTRL-ALT-DEL!
This is what you get when you don't register your OS with Microsoft.
Everyone could see the rainbow colored trails of goo eminating from the tanks and other storage facilities in the somewhat industrialized areas of the old city. As the copter lowered a bit more, they could just make out the crowds wading through the water pulling what meager supplies they have scrounged from the previously looted stores.
Rove talked about how the public would react to the lag in relief efforts and the seeming uncaring attitude of federal officials, he talked about poll numbers and how Robertson could possibly lose the '08 election even though that was almost three years in the future. Mostly the other passengers in the vehicle just watched the carnage, occasionally Laura would emit a faint "oh my..." as the scenes unfolded.
Karl still continued, "none of these negros understand logistics, all they're going to remember are how thirsty they were and how scarce white people were in the convention centers and how they disliked getting it up the ass at night."
"We have to accept that there are going to be ramifications to this, Mr. President, and all I am saying is, uh, Mr. President?"
All of a sudden huge and rapid metalic thumps rang through the passenger cabin as everyone instinctively and simultaneously shrunk in their seats while looking all around frantically for the source of the awful racket and then a twangy Texan voice rang out, "GIT SOME, GIT SOME!" and more of the rapid metalic thumps and finally Karl Rove gathered the courage to look up to find the President at the helm of the side mounted machine gun spraying the scene below him with 50 calibre rounds, every 10th a tracer, and occasionally pausing long enough to point and laugh before resuming his assault on his agrieved constituency in crisis.
"Fuck, there go our approval numbers."
I never have mod points when I need 'em most.