76 Slack Chats

76 Slack Chats

Our interruptions are more numerous, and less melodic than trombones. And the virtuosos are now called "10x developers."

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"76 Trombones"

⁠Seventy-six trombones led the big parade

With a hundred and ten cornets close at hand.

They were followed by rows and rows of the finest

virtuosos, the cream of ev'ry famous band.

 

Seventy-six trombones caught the morning sun

With a hundred and ten cornets right behind

There were more than a thousand reeds

Springing up like weeds

There were horns of ev'ry shape and kind.

 

There were copper bottom tympani in horse platoons

Thundering, thundering all along the way.

Double bell euphoniums and big bassoons,

Each bassoon having its big, fat say!

 

There were fifty mounted cannon in the battery

Thundering, thundering louder than before

Clarinets of ev'ry size

And trumpeters who'd improvise

A full octave higher than the score!

Written By: Meredith Wilson, 1957

"76 Slack Chats"

Seventy-six Slack chats bugged the CTO

With a hundred and ten sub-threads to address.

They were followed by tales of sales from an inbox 

full of emails, the price of modern tech success!

 

Seventy-six new chats hit the smartphone screen,

While a hundred and ten fresh texts need replies,

There were more than a thousand tweets 

And expense receipts

And PRs for failing APIs…

 

There were cavalcades of pop-up ads in scrolls of doom

Each disrupts, interrupts, leading thought astray,

Instagram and Snapchat while we meet on Zoom

Each consumes more of our thought each day!

 

There were 50 likes and other phony flattery,

Each appears, interferes, answer or ignore?

UX filled with latency 

Diminishing our agency

Alerts our attention must explore!

Written By: Evan Coopersmith & AE Studio

"76 Trombones"

⁠Seventy-six trombones led the big parade

With a hundred and ten cornets close at hand.

They were followed by rows and rows of the finest

virtuosos, the cream of ev'ry famous band.

 

Seventy-six trombones caught the morning sun

With a hundred and ten cornets right behind

There were more than a thousand reeds

Springing up like weeds

There were horns of ev'ry shape and kind.

 

There were copper bottom tympani in horse platoons

Thundering, thundering all along the way.

Double bell euphoniums and big bassoons,

Each bassoon having its big, fat say!

 

There were fifty mounted cannon in the battery

Thundering, thundering louder than before

Clarinets of ev'ry size

And trumpeters who'd improvise

A full octave higher than the score!

Written By: Meredith Wilson, 1957

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