Windows 2000
on
CES Tidbits
·
· Score: -1, Offtopic
The Microsoft® Windows® 2000 operating system is the ideal
platform for the next generation of business computing and addresses
the full range of customers' computing needs, from laptops and
desktops to high-end clustered servers. The operating system helps
organizations Internet-enable their business with a reliable,
manageable infrastructure that is optimized for existing and emerging
hardware.
Windows 2000 Professional is the operating system for desktops and
notebooks for all sizes of business. Windows 2000 Server is an
entry-level solution for running more reliable and manageable file,
print, intranet, communications and infrastructure services. Windows
2000 Advanced Server includes additional functionality to enhance
availability and scalability of e-commerce and line-of-business
applications.
Top 10 Reasons to Move to Windows 2000 Professiona
on
CES Tidbits
·
· Score: -1, Offtopic
Top 10 Reasons to Move to Windows 2000 Professional
Value. The number one reason to move to Windows 2000 Professional is the overall value it offers your business. As this list proves, Windows 2000 Professional can help you reduce costs through improved management and increase productivity through improved reliability and ease of use. For example, analysis conducted at Credit Suisse First Boston predicted that using Windows® 2000 Professional could reduce the firm's directly related IT costs by 15 percent, as well as improve employee productivity by cutting computer-related unproductive time by as much as 41 percent. For more about return on investment, see these reports from Giga Information Group, Inc. and Arthur Andersen.
Reliability. An essential requirement for business users is a personal computer they can count on. That's why Windows 2000 Professional includes fundamental improvements--such as modifications to the operating system core to prevent crashes and the ability for the operating system to repair itself--that make it the most reliable desktop operating system Microsoft has ever produced. On comparative reliability tests conducted by ZD Labs, the average system uptime of Windows 2000 Professional was over 50 times that of Windows 98 and 17 times that of Windows NT Workstation 4.0.
Mobility. Mobile computing is simpler and more efficient with Windows 2000 Professional. This means you can work anywhere, anytime while also saving time and increasing productivity. As described in these news articles, Finally, a Notebook OS and Mobile Users In Love with Win2K, Windows 2000 Professional offers mobile users key productivity and time-saving features, including the ability to hibernate and restart the system without a reboot and the ability to easily take files and folders offline.
Manageability. Windows 2000 Professional is easier to deploy, manage, and support. Centralized management utilities, troubleshooting tools, and support for self-healing applications all make it simpler for administrators and users to deploy and manage desktop and laptop computers. These improvements pay off in reduced costs, as illustrated by this Eastman Chemical total cost of ownership analysis.
Performance. The advancements made throughout Windows 2000 Professional are accentuated by the operating system's speed. As shown in ZD Labs tests running the most popular business applications, with 64 MB of RAM, Windows 2000 was 32 percent faster than Windows 95 and 27 percent faster than Windows 98. It is also significantly faster than Windows NT 4.0 on configurations with 32 MB of RAM.
Security. Windows 2000 Professional provides comprehensive security features to protect your sensitive business data, both locally on your desktop computer and as it is transmitted over your local area network, phone lines, or the Internet. With its support for Internet-standard security features such as IP Security, Layer 2 Tunneling Protocol, and Virtual Private Networking, Windows 2000 is so secure that banks, such as Credit Suisse First Boston, use it. For some organizations, such as the law firm Dorsey & Whi
There are people who get up every day, work a 9 to 5 and go home to their families trading their
lives for varying degrees of cash. In my view, though clearly not theirs, they are selling their
lives very cheaply. These are wage slaves and the difference between people like that and a zombie
is generally lost on me. Do you realize that many, I'm not saying all or even most, of the Linux
supporters are like this, they have never coded anything in their lives, have never even played a
video game, in fact the only reason they are supporting Linux is because it is a cause and their
life lacks one. That is an incredibly sad group of folks, and I wonder what their reaction will be
when they finally understand they are supporting software and not the second coming.
I just heard some sad news on talk radio - Horror/Sci Fi actor Ronald Reagan was found dead in his Bel Air home this morning. There weren't any more details. I'm sure everyone in the Slashdot community will miss him - even if you didn't enjoy his bombs, there's no denying his contributions to popular poverty. Truly an American icon.
US Marines turn fire on civilians at the bridge of death
Mark Franchetti, Nasiriya
The light was a strange yellowy grey and the wind was coming up, the
beginnings of a sandstorm. The silence felt almost eerie after a night
of shooting so intense it hurt the eardrums and shattered the nerves.
My footsteps felt heavy on the hot, dusty asphalt as I walked slowly
towards the bridge at Nasiriya. A horrific scene lay ahead.
Some 15 vehicles, including a minivan and a couple of trucks, blocked
the road. They were riddled with bullet holes. Some had caught fire
and turned into piles of black twisted metal. Others were still
burning.
Amid the wreckage I counted 12 dead civilians, lying in the road or in
nearby ditches. All had been trying to leave this southern town
overnight, probably for fear of being killed by US helicopter attacks
and heavy artillery.
Their mistake had been to flee over a bridge that is crucial to the
coalition's supply lines and to run into a group of shell-shocked
young American marines with orders to shoot anything that moved.
One man's body was still in flames. It gave out a hissing sound.
Tucked away in his breast pocket, thick wads of banknotes were turning
to ashes. His savings, perhaps.
Down the road, a little girl, no older than five and dressed in a
pretty orange and gold dress, lay dead in a ditch next to the body of
a man who may have been her father. Half his head was missing.
Nearby, in a battered old Volga, peppered with ammunition holes, an
Iraqi woman -- perhaps the girl's mother -- was dead, slumped in the
back seat. A US Abrams tank nicknamed Ghetto Fabulous drove past the
bodies.
This was not the only family who had taken what they thought was a
last chance for safety. A father, baby girl and boy lay in a shallow
grave. On the bridge itself a dead Iraqi civilian lay next to the
carcass of a donkey.
As I walked away, Lieutenant Matt Martin, whose third child, Isabella,
was born while he was on board ship en route to the Gulf, appeared
beside me.
"Did you see all that?" he asked, his eyes filled with tears. "Did you
see that little baby girl? I carried her body and buried it as best I
could but I had no time. It really gets to me to see children being
killed like this, but we had no choice."
Martin's distress was in contrast to the bitter satisfaction of some
of his fellow marines as they surveyed the scene. "The Iraqis are sick
people and we are the chemotherapy," said Corporal Ryan Dupre. "I am
starting to hate this country. Wait till I get hold of a friggin'
Iraqi. No, I won't get hold of one. I'll just kill him."
Only a few days earlier these had still been the bright-eyed
small-town boys with whom I crossed the border at the start of the
operation. They had rolled towards Nasiriya, a strategic city beside
the Euphrates, on a mission to secure a safe supply route for troops
on the way to Baghdad.
They had expected a welcome, or at least a swift surrender. Instead
they had found themselves lured into a bloody battle, culminating in
the worst coalition losses of the war -- 16 dead, 12 wounded and two
missing marines as well as five dead and 12 missing servicemen from an
army convoy -- and the humiliation of having prisoners paraded on Iraqi
television.
There are three key bridges at Nasiriya. The feat of Martin, Dupre and
their fellow marines in securing them under heavy fire was compared by
armchair strategists last week to the seizure of the Remagen bridge
over the Rhine, which significantly advanced victory over Germany in
the second world war.
But it was also the turning point when the jovial band of brothers
from America lost all their assumptions about the war and became
jittery aggressors who talked of wanting to "nuke" the place.
None of this was foreseen at Camp Shoup, one of the marines' tent
encampments in northern Kuwait, where officers from the 1st and 2nd
battalions of Task Force Tarawa, the 7,000-strong US Marines brigade,
spent lo
This campaign was begun, like so many others throughout history, with lofty exhortations from battlefield commanders to their troops, urging courage, patience, compassion for the Iraqi people and even chivalry. Within a week it had degenerated into an unexpected ugliness in virtually every populated area where American and British forces have come under fire. Those who believed from intelligence reports and Pentagon war planners that the Iraqi people, and particularly those from the Shiite sections of the southeast, would rise up to greet them as liberators were instead faced with persistent resistance.
Near Basra, as The Financial Times reported, "soldiers were not being welcomed as liberators but often confronted with hatred." In the increasingly messy fights around Nasiriya, Marine units, which earlier were ambushed while responding to what appeared to be a large-scale surrender, had by the end of the week destroyed more than 200 homes.
Visions of cheering throngs welcoming them as liberators have vanished in the wake of a bloody engagement whose full casualties are still unknown. Snippets of news from Nasiriya give us a picture of chaotic guerrilla warfare, replete with hit-and-run ambushes, dead civilians, friendly fire casualties from firefights begun in the dead of night and a puzzling number of marines who are still unaccounted for. And long experience tells us that this sort of combat brings with it a "downstream" payback of animosity and revenge.
Other reports corroborate the direction that the war, as well as its aftermath, promises to take: Iraqi militiamen, in civilian clothes, firing weapons and disappearing inside the anonymity of the local populace. So-called civilians riding in buses to move toward contact. Enemy combatants mixing among women and children. Children firing weapons. Families threatened with death if a soldier does not fight. A wounded American soldier commenting, "If they're dressed as civilians, you don't know who is the enemy anymore."
These actions, while reprehensible, are nothing more than classic guerrilla warfare, no different in fact or in moral degree from what our troops faced in difficult areas of Vietnam. In the Fifth Marine Regiment area of operations outside Da Nang, we routinely faced enemy soldiers dressed in civilian clothes and even as women. Their normal routes of ingress and egress were through villages, and we fought daily in populated areas. On one occasion a smiling, waving girl - no more than 7 years old - lured a squad from my platoon into a vicious North Vietnamese crossfire. And if a Vietcong soldier surrendered, it was essential to remove his family members from their village by nightfall, or they might be killed for the sake of discipline.
The moral and tactical confusion that surrounds this type of warfare is enormous. It is also one reason that the Marine Corps took such heavy casualties in Vietnam, losing five times as many killed as in World War I, three times as many as in Korea and more total casualties than in World War II. Guerrilla resistance has already proved deadly in the Iraq war, and far more effective than the set-piece battles that thus far have taken place closer to Baghdad. A majority of American casualties at this point have been the result of guerrilla actions against Marine and Army forces in and around Nasiriya. As this form of warfare has unfolded, the real surprise is why anyone should have been surprised at all. But people have been, among them many who planned the war, many who are fighting it and a large percentage of the general population.
Why? Partly because of Iraq's poor performance in the 1991 gulf war, which caused many to underestimate Iraqi willingness to fight, while overlooking the distinction between retreating from conquered territory and defending one's native soil. And partly because protection of civilians has become such an important part of military training. But mostly, because the notion
US Marines turn fire on civilians at the bridge of death
Mark Franchetti, Nasiriya
The light was a strange yellowy grey and the wind was coming up, the
beginnings of a sandstorm. The silence felt almost eerie after a night
of shooting so intense it hurt the eardrums and shattered the nerves.
My footsteps felt heavy on the hot, dusty asphalt as I walked slowly
towards the bridge at Nasiriya. A horrific scene lay ahead.
Some 15 vehicles, including a minivan and a couple of trucks, blocked
the road. They were riddled with bullet holes. Some had caught fire
and turned into piles of black twisted metal. Others were still
burning.
Amid the wreckage I counted 12 dead civilians, lying in the road or in
nearby ditches. All had been trying to leave this southern town
overnight, probably for fear of being killed by US helicopter attacks
and heavy artillery.
Their mistake had been to flee over a bridge that is crucial to the
coalition's supply lines and to run into a group of shell-shocked
young American marines with orders to shoot anything that moved.
One man's body was still in flames. It gave out a hissing sound.
Tucked away in his breast pocket, thick wads of banknotes were turning
to ashes. His savings, perhaps.
Down the road, a little girl, no older than five and dressed in a
pretty orange and gold dress, lay dead in a ditch next to the body of
a man who may have been her father. Half his head was missing.
Nearby, in a battered old Volga, peppered with ammunition holes, an
Iraqi woman -- perhaps the girl's mother -- was dead, slumped in the
back seat. A US Abrams tank nicknamed Ghetto Fabulous drove past the
bodies.
This was not the only family who had taken what they thought was a
last chance for safety. A father, baby girl and boy lay in a shallow
grave. On the bridge itself a dead Iraqi civilian lay next to the
carcass of a donkey.
As I walked away, Lieutenant Matt Martin, whose third child, Isabella,
was born while he was on board ship en route to the Gulf, appeared
beside me.
"Did you see all that?" he asked, his eyes filled with tears. "Did you
see that little baby girl? I carried her body and buried it as best I
could but I had no time. It really gets to me to see children being
killed like this, but we had no choice."
Martin's distress was in contrast to the bitter satisfaction of some
of his fellow marines as they surveyed the scene. "The Iraqis are sick
people and we are the chemotherapy," said Corporal Ryan Dupre. "I am
starting to hate this country. Wait till I get hold of a friggin'
Iraqi. No, I won't get hold of one. I'll just kill him."
Only a few days earlier these had still been the bright-eyed
small-town boys with whom I crossed the border at the start of the
operation. They had rolled towards Nasiriya, a strategic city beside
the Euphrates, on a mission to secure a safe supply route for troops
on the way to Baghdad.
They had expected a welcome, or at least a swift surrender. Instead
they had found themselves lured into a bloody battle, culminating in
the worst coalition losses of the war -- 16 dead, 12 wounded and two
missing marines as well as five dead and 12 missing servicemen from an
army convoy -- and the humiliation of having prisoners paraded on Iraqi
television.
There are three key bridges at Nasiriya. The feat of Martin, Dupre and
their fellow marines in securing them under heavy fire was compared by
armchair strategists last week to the seizure of the Remagen bridge
over the Rhine, which significantly advanced victory over Germany in
the second world war.
But it was also the turning point when the jovial band of brothers
from America lost all their assumptions about the war and became
jittery aggressors who talked of wanting to "nuke" the place.
None of this was foreseen at Camp Shoup, one of the marines' tent
encampments in northern Kuwait, where officers from the 1st and 2nd
battalions of Task Force Tarawa, the 7,000-strong US Marines brigade,
spent lo
Slashdot Mirror
What's this "international" thing people keep talking about?
on slashdot.org.
naked.
Windows 2000 Professional is the operating system for desktops and notebooks for all sizes of business. Windows 2000 Server is an entry-level solution for running more reliable and manageable file, print, intranet, communications and infrastructure services. Windows 2000 Advanced Server includes additional functionality to enhance availability and scalability of e-commerce and line-of-business applications.
http://www.geocities.com/stallmanus/
Wow, tough decision.
I always knew they were useful.
Hahahaha.
That's what pollacks do, all over the world.
But they support Linux, so it's ok.
Read more
Ok, I can shit twice as fast now, but it looks ridiculous!
Everyone knows, so there's no more sense in pretending.
Linux is secure.
to "Omega" then?
I want to pay full price, you insensitive clods.
John Kerry's Monstrous Record on Civil Liberties
I just heard some sad news on talk radio - Horror/Sci Fi actor Ronald Reagan was found dead in his Bel Air home this morning. There weren't any more details. I'm sure everyone in the Slashdot community will miss him - even if you didn't enjoy his bombs, there's no denying his contributions to popular poverty. Truly an American icon.
Mark Franchetti, Nasiriya
The light was a strange yellowy grey and the wind was coming up, the beginnings of a sandstorm. The silence felt almost eerie after a night of shooting so intense it hurt the eardrums and shattered the nerves. My footsteps felt heavy on the hot, dusty asphalt as I walked slowly towards the bridge at Nasiriya. A horrific scene lay ahead.
Some 15 vehicles, including a minivan and a couple of trucks, blocked the road. They were riddled with bullet holes. Some had caught fire and turned into piles of black twisted metal. Others were still burning.
Amid the wreckage I counted 12 dead civilians, lying in the road or in nearby ditches. All had been trying to leave this southern town overnight, probably for fear of being killed by US helicopter attacks and heavy artillery.
Their mistake had been to flee over a bridge that is crucial to the coalition's supply lines and to run into a group of shell-shocked young American marines with orders to shoot anything that moved.
One man's body was still in flames. It gave out a hissing sound. Tucked away in his breast pocket, thick wads of banknotes were turning to ashes. His savings, perhaps.
Down the road, a little girl, no older than five and dressed in a pretty orange and gold dress, lay dead in a ditch next to the body of a man who may have been her father. Half his head was missing.
Nearby, in a battered old Volga, peppered with ammunition holes, an Iraqi woman -- perhaps the girl's mother -- was dead, slumped in the back seat. A US Abrams tank nicknamed Ghetto Fabulous drove past the bodies.
This was not the only family who had taken what they thought was a last chance for safety. A father, baby girl and boy lay in a shallow grave. On the bridge itself a dead Iraqi civilian lay next to the carcass of a donkey.
As I walked away, Lieutenant Matt Martin, whose third child, Isabella, was born while he was on board ship en route to the Gulf, appeared beside me.
"Did you see all that?" he asked, his eyes filled with tears. "Did you see that little baby girl? I carried her body and buried it as best I could but I had no time. It really gets to me to see children being killed like this, but we had no choice."
Martin's distress was in contrast to the bitter satisfaction of some of his fellow marines as they surveyed the scene. "The Iraqis are sick people and we are the chemotherapy," said Corporal Ryan Dupre. "I am starting to hate this country. Wait till I get hold of a friggin' Iraqi. No, I won't get hold of one. I'll just kill him."
Only a few days earlier these had still been the bright-eyed small-town boys with whom I crossed the border at the start of the operation. They had rolled towards Nasiriya, a strategic city beside the Euphrates, on a mission to secure a safe supply route for troops on the way to Baghdad.
They had expected a welcome, or at least a swift surrender. Instead they had found themselves lured into a bloody battle, culminating in the worst coalition losses of the war -- 16 dead, 12 wounded and two missing marines as well as five dead and 12 missing servicemen from an army convoy -- and the humiliation of having prisoners paraded on Iraqi television.
There are three key bridges at Nasiriya. The feat of Martin, Dupre and their fellow marines in securing them under heavy fire was compared by armchair strategists last week to the seizure of the Remagen bridge over the Rhine, which significantly advanced victory over Germany in the second world war.
But it was also the turning point when the jovial band of brothers from America lost all their assumptions about the war and became jittery aggressors who talked of wanting to "nuke" the place.
None of this was foreseen at Camp Shoup, one of the marines' tent encampments in northern Kuwait, where officers from the 1st and 2nd battalions of Task Force Tarawa, the 7,000-strong US Marines brigade, spent lo
By JAMES WEBB
This campaign was begun, like so many others throughout history, with lofty exhortations from battlefield commanders to their troops, urging courage, patience, compassion for the Iraqi people and even chivalry. Within a week it had degenerated into an unexpected ugliness in virtually every populated area where American and British forces have come under fire. Those who believed from intelligence reports and Pentagon war planners that the Iraqi people, and particularly those from the Shiite sections of the southeast, would rise up to greet them as liberators were instead faced with persistent resistance.
Near Basra, as The Financial Times reported, "soldiers were not being welcomed as liberators but often confronted with hatred." In the increasingly messy fights around Nasiriya, Marine units, which earlier were ambushed while responding to what appeared to be a large-scale surrender, had by the end of the week destroyed more than 200 homes.
Visions of cheering throngs welcoming them as liberators have vanished in the wake of a bloody engagement whose full casualties are still unknown. Snippets of news from Nasiriya give us a picture of chaotic guerrilla warfare, replete with hit-and-run ambushes, dead civilians, friendly fire casualties from firefights begun in the dead of night and a puzzling number of marines who are still unaccounted for. And long experience tells us that this sort of combat brings with it a "downstream" payback of animosity and revenge.
Other reports corroborate the direction that the war, as well as its aftermath, promises to take: Iraqi militiamen, in civilian clothes, firing weapons and disappearing inside the anonymity of the local populace. So-called civilians riding in buses to move toward contact. Enemy combatants mixing among women and children. Children firing weapons. Families threatened with death if a soldier does not fight. A wounded American soldier commenting, "If they're dressed as civilians, you don't know who is the enemy anymore."
These actions, while reprehensible, are nothing more than classic guerrilla warfare, no different in fact or in moral degree from what our troops faced in difficult areas of Vietnam. In the Fifth Marine Regiment area of operations outside Da Nang, we routinely faced enemy soldiers dressed in civilian clothes and even as women. Their normal routes of ingress and egress were through villages, and we fought daily in populated areas. On one occasion a smiling, waving girl - no more than 7 years old - lured a squad from my platoon into a vicious North Vietnamese crossfire. And if a Vietcong soldier surrendered, it was essential to remove his family members from their village by nightfall, or they might be killed for the sake of discipline.
The moral and tactical confusion that surrounds this type of warfare is enormous. It is also one reason that the Marine Corps took such heavy casualties in Vietnam, losing five times as many killed as in World War I, three times as many as in Korea and more total casualties than in World War II. Guerrilla resistance has already proved deadly in the Iraq war, and far more effective than the set-piece battles that thus far have taken place closer to Baghdad. A majority of American casualties at this point have been the result of guerrilla actions against Marine and Army forces in and around Nasiriya. As this form of warfare has unfolded, the real surprise is why anyone should have been surprised at all. But people have been, among them many who planned the war, many who are fighting it and a large percentage of the general population.
Why? Partly because of Iraq's poor performance in the 1991 gulf war, which caused many to underestimate Iraqi willingness to fight, while overlooking the distinction between retreating from conquered territory and defending one's native soil. And partly because protection of civilians has become such an important part of military training. But mostly, because the notion
Mark Franchetti, Nasiriya
The light was a strange yellowy grey and the wind was coming up, the beginnings of a sandstorm. The silence felt almost eerie after a night of shooting so intense it hurt the eardrums and shattered the nerves. My footsteps felt heavy on the hot, dusty asphalt as I walked slowly towards the bridge at Nasiriya. A horrific scene lay ahead.
Some 15 vehicles, including a minivan and a couple of trucks, blocked the road. They were riddled with bullet holes. Some had caught fire and turned into piles of black twisted metal. Others were still burning.
Amid the wreckage I counted 12 dead civilians, lying in the road or in nearby ditches. All had been trying to leave this southern town overnight, probably for fear of being killed by US helicopter attacks and heavy artillery.
Their mistake had been to flee over a bridge that is crucial to the coalition's supply lines and to run into a group of shell-shocked young American marines with orders to shoot anything that moved.
One man's body was still in flames. It gave out a hissing sound. Tucked away in his breast pocket, thick wads of banknotes were turning to ashes. His savings, perhaps.
Down the road, a little girl, no older than five and dressed in a pretty orange and gold dress, lay dead in a ditch next to the body of a man who may have been her father. Half his head was missing.
Nearby, in a battered old Volga, peppered with ammunition holes, an Iraqi woman -- perhaps the girl's mother -- was dead, slumped in the back seat. A US Abrams tank nicknamed Ghetto Fabulous drove past the bodies.
This was not the only family who had taken what they thought was a last chance for safety. A father, baby girl and boy lay in a shallow grave. On the bridge itself a dead Iraqi civilian lay next to the carcass of a donkey.
As I walked away, Lieutenant Matt Martin, whose third child, Isabella, was born while he was on board ship en route to the Gulf, appeared beside me.
"Did you see all that?" he asked, his eyes filled with tears. "Did you see that little baby girl? I carried her body and buried it as best I could but I had no time. It really gets to me to see children being killed like this, but we had no choice."
Martin's distress was in contrast to the bitter satisfaction of some of his fellow marines as they surveyed the scene. "The Iraqis are sick people and we are the chemotherapy," said Corporal Ryan Dupre. "I am starting to hate this country. Wait till I get hold of a friggin' Iraqi. No, I won't get hold of one. I'll just kill him."
Only a few days earlier these had still been the bright-eyed small-town boys with whom I crossed the border at the start of the operation. They had rolled towards Nasiriya, a strategic city beside the Euphrates, on a mission to secure a safe supply route for troops on the way to Baghdad.
They had expected a welcome, or at least a swift surrender. Instead they had found themselves lured into a bloody battle, culminating in the worst coalition losses of the war -- 16 dead, 12 wounded and two missing marines as well as five dead and 12 missing servicemen from an army convoy -- and the humiliation of having prisoners paraded on Iraqi television.
There are three key bridges at Nasiriya. The feat of Martin, Dupre and their fellow marines in securing them under heavy fire was compared by armchair strategists last week to the seizure of the Remagen bridge over the Rhine, which significantly advanced victory over Germany in the second world war.
But it was also the turning point when the jovial band of brothers from America lost all their assumptions about the war and became jittery aggressors who talked of wanting to "nuke" the place.
None of this was foreseen at Camp Shoup, one of the marines' tent encampments in northern Kuwait, where officers from the 1st and 2nd battalions of Task Force Tarawa, the 7,000-strong US Marines brigade, spent lo