Son, we live in a world that has servers. And those severs have to be guarded by men with boot disks. Who's gonna do it? You? You, Lt. Weinberg? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for the exchange server and you curse the cjs. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: that our mail servers's outage, while tragic, probably saved a company wide virus outbreak. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, keeps this business operational ...You don't want the truth. Because deep down, in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me on that server. You need me on that server.

We use words like uptime, backup, SLA...we use these words as the backbone to a life spent defending something. You use 'em as a punchline. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very service I provide, then questions the manner in which I provide it! I'd rather you just said thank you and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a screwdriver and check a POST. Either way, I don't give a damn what you think you're entitled to!