I don't know what deranged Muse descends on industry watchers and inspires them to write questionable poetry about their watched industries. Whatever her name, she first visited me five years ago. The result: a bit of verse on VoIP security in the style of Dr. Seuss that posted to NoJitter's predecessor site, VoIPLoop.
Since then I and, I like to think, the UC market as a whole have been better served by commentators sticking to prose. But a while back two words began repeating in the back of my head:
Kill Eric.
Just kidding. The repeated words: The Raven. Dark, foreboding, and chockfull of 19th century angst, Poe's masterpiece seemed like it could convey, once tweaked, something of the confusion and uncertainty that's descended on IT of late. So instead of talking up this technology or opining on that oh-so-important industry issue, this week I've prepared something very different. Hope you enjoy it!
And in case you, like me, get annoyed at long videos when text fits the bill just fine thankyouverymuch, the words-only version is below.
The Blue Bird
An ode to the consumerization of IT (A tribute to The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe)
Once upon a lunchtime busy, while all IT was in a tizzy
Over many a strange and sudden corruption in the VP's data store,
I sat in my office eating, when suddenly there came a tweeting,
As if some bird was gently tweeting, tweeting from my monitor.
"'Tis some app’s alert,” I muttered, "This clamor from my monitor.
Only this and nothing more."
Ah, distinctly I remember it all began when this board member
Who two years ago November walked into the Apple Store.
Rushing past the iPod zone and Genius Bar, he on his own
Laid down cash for an iPhone--an iPhone from the Apple Store.
And with this VPs purchase of a device I now abhor
My job would change for evermore.
But the tweeting still repeated ’til my reverie retreated
And with it memories of that exec and all that passed before.
To end all the commotion I swiveled with one smooth motion
To my PC and had the notion that maybe the corrupt data was restored.
The tweets must be indication that the data was restored.
It’s surely this, and nothing more.
But the VP's hard drive was still busted. The dead laptop he entrusted
To me sat upon my desk, its FAT volumes unrestored.
Still that relentless tweeting was repeating, as if entreating
Or intentionally competing for my attention as it bored
Into my brain, blocking out all else I turned my attention toward,
This tweeting from my monitor.
So deep into the display peering, long I sat there while still hearing
This alert whose source and purpose there was no accounting for.
It wasn’t, as I’d next expected, warning of a file infected
That McAfee detected, an incoming instant message or
The regular team meeting Outlook reminds me starts at four.
Still those unending chirps came from behind my monitor!
Back behind the display groping carefully, and truly hoping
I'd not electrocute myself while this mystery I explored.
Suddenly there was a flapping, a steady rapid wapping,
Like little wings a-rapping, between the wall and monitor.
Surprised I pulled my hands back, took three steps back across the floor,
"What the hell?!" I swore.
With many a flit and flutter, while more expletives I uttered,
A silly little sparrow flew from behind the monitor.
A blur of sky blue feathers, teal wings that beat together,
Yellow beak that chirped in pleasure, it flew toward my office door--
Then perched on the Linux penguin toy sitting by my office door.
Perched and sat, and nothing more.
Just then the diagnostic ended. The VP's laptop could not be mended.
No matter what I tried his PC's data was no more.
With rising indignation I learned that a rogue application
Freed from his jailbroken iPhone had nuked the PC's data store.
"More problems caused by smart phones?" I yelled. "How many more?"
The blue bird answered, "Evermore."
My foul mood had buckled. I couldn’t help but chuckle.
The word so random yet so apt I was unable to ignore.
"Little bird, did you inherit genes of a mocking bird or parrot
To speak with so much merit as if we had a close rapport?"
I laughed, not hoping for an answer from this bird that sat before
Me on my Linux penguin by the office door.
No matter how beguiling I found this bird, my work was piling,
And my brain began compiling ways to tackle my next chore.
Brushing off IT's directions some Einstein saved sales projections
To Google Docs which made selections public knowledge. What is more
Prospect lists and product roadmaps weren't secret anymore
Enraging the biz dev director.
Now I must locate and destroy all accounts the hoi polloi
Set up on Google Apps and DropBox and corporate data in them stored.
"It's a battle all uphill," I whined. "For each account I kill
End users will just make a new ones as I wage this pointless war
How many illicit accounts must I be accountable for?"
The blue bird answered, "Evermore."
Stunned, I muttered, "Whoa." Whether intentionally apropos
Or mere chance, either way, the bird's answer had me floored.
I found it less amusing that this word he kept on choosing
Mocked power we were losing as IT's security policies were ignored.
I begrudged the sweating, fretting and futility--all underscored
With his mocking "evermore."
With a sudden lurch I tried to swat him from his perch.
But he flew up and out of reach to the ledge above the door.
As I watched him flitter, I recognized the little critter.
"You're that bird I see on Twitter, which employees are opting for
Instead of Jive or Connections and causing embarrassments galore
For our company!" I roared.
You see, sometime around last spring a bunch of folks in marketing
Fielded client questions via Twitter, meaning no one could record
In CRM the interactions with the right level of exaction
To the contact center's satisfaction. All this drove a sword
Between the marketing department and the client support corps.
"Which would remain how long?" I asked my friend above the door.
Again the answer: "Evermore."
"Maybe," I softly groaned as I thought of the smart phone
Policy that had changed, leaving feelings in IT pretty sore.
Blackberries once were issued by IT. But now it's all BYOD.
So the iPhone devotees buy and download from the App Store
How many business apps we've already bought site licenses for?
The bird, on queue, said, "Evermore."
Corporate apps must be rewritten whenever end users are smitten
By the latest smart phones based on QNX, Windows 7, or
Android whose crazy fragmentation our coders view with aggravation
As they make separate adaptations for Ice Cream Sandwich, Froyo or
Gingerbread and Honeycomb. How long will they be frustrated for?
The blue bird tweeted, "Evermore."
"Endless consumerization of IT causes aggravation."
I told the bird who fluttered back to its Linux penguin perch by the door.
"Users shun SharePoint and use Box.net to store all their docs.
And 'cause they think that Yammer rocks, don't use Chatter anymore.
Now there's countless unused apps that the company's paid for.
Unused--say it with me birdie--evermore."
So now the blue bird is still sitting, always sitting, often shitting,
On IT's beloved Linux penguin mascot--which I suppose is a metaphor
Of the usurpation thanks to consumerization
Of IT's domination over the well-ordered hordes
Of software and devices in the workplace heretofore.
That domination gone...evermore.
