Entertainment

'Twas the night before New Year,
and all through the nation,
We awaited Y2K,
the millennium sensation.
The chips were replaced in computers with care,
In hopes that "Ol' Bugsy" wouldn't stop there.
While some folks could think they were snug in their beds,
Others had visions of dread in their heads.
And Ma with her PC and I with my Mac
Had just logged on the Net and kicked back with a snack,
When over the server there arose such a chatter,
I called Mister Gates to see what was the matter.
But he was busted, so I flew like a flash,
Off to the bank to withdraw all my cash.
When what with my tearing eyes should I see?
My old ATM, as sick as could be.

Back on the net, The "Master Hacker" was looking so smug,
I knew he was spreading the Y2K Bug!!!
His image downloaded in no time at all,
he whistled and shouted, "Let all systems fall!!"
Go Intel! Go Gateway! Now HP! Big Blue!
Everything Compaq, and Pentium, too!
All processors big, all processors small,
Crash away! Crash away! Crash away all!!
All the controls that planes need for their flights,
All microwaves, trains, and all traffic lights.
As I drew in my breath and was turning around,
out through the modem, he came with a bound.

He was covered with fur, and slung on his back
was a sack full of viruses, set for attack.
His eyes - how they sparked! His fingers how hairy!
As midnight approached, things now became scary.
He had a broad little face and a round little belly,
and his sack filled with viruses quivered like jelly.
He was chubby and plump, evilly grinning,
and he laughed when my hard drive stopped spinning.
A wink of his eye, and a twist of his head,
soon gave me a new feeling of dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
he stopped all the clocks, then turned with a jerk.
With a twitch of his nose, and a sly little wink,
all things electronic soon went on the blink.

He zoomed from my system, to the next folks on line,
to spread mass disruption, like a creeping vine
Then I heard him exclaim, with a loud, hearty cry,
Happy Y2K to all, Kiss your PC's good-bye!

My sister, went to the department store to check out the bridal registry of our niece whose wedding was coming up soon. When my sister returned from the store, she tossed the gift list on a table and declared, "I think she's too young to get married."

"Why do you say that?" I asked.

"Because," she said, "they've registered for Nintendo games."

Canterbury, England.  AD 999.

An atmosphere close to panic prevails today throughout Europe as the millennial year 1000 approaches, bringing with it the so-called "Y1K Bug," a menace which, until recently, hardly anyone had ever heard of.  Prophets of doom are warning that the entire fabric of Western Civilization, based as it now is upon monastic computations, could collapse, and that there is simply not enough time left to fix the problem.  Just how did this disaster-in-the-making ever arise?  Why did no one anticipate that a change from a three-digit to a four-digit year would throw into total disarray all liturgical chants and all metrical verse in which any date is mentioned?  Every formulaic hymn, prayer, ceremony and incantation dealing with dated events will have to be re-written to accommodate three extra syllables.  All tabular chronologies with three-space year columns, maintained for generations by scribes using carefully hand-ruled lines on vellum sheets, will now have to be converted to four-space columns, at enormous cost.  In the meantime, the validity of every official event, from baptisms to burials, from confirmations to coronations, may be called into question.

"We should have seen it coming," says Brother Cedric of St.  Michael's Abbey, here in Canterbury.  "What worries me most is that 'THOUSAND' contains the word 'THOU,' which occurs in nearly all our prayers, and of course, always refers to God.  Using it now in the name of the year will seem almost blasphemous, and is bound to cause terrible confusion.  Of course, we would always use Latin, but that might be even worse-the Latin word for 'THOUSAND' is 'mille'-which is the same as the Latin for 'mile.' We will not know whether we are talking about time or distance" Stonemasons are already reported threatening to demand a proportional pay increase for having to carve an extra numeral in all dates on tombstones, cornerstones and monuments.  Together with its inevitable ripple effects, this alone could plunge the hitherto-stable medieval economy into chaos.

A conference of clerics has been called at Winchester to discuss the entire issue, but doomsayers are convinced that the matter is now one of personal survival.  Many families, in expectation of the worst, are stocking up on holy water and indulgences.

A Golfer walks into the pro shop at the local course and asks the golf pro if they sell ball markers.

The golf pro says, "Yes, they are just $1.00 each. "

The guy gives the golf pro a dollar and says he'll take one.

The golf pro opens the register, puts the dollar in the tray and with a big smile hands the guy a quarter.