Faster than a speeding supercomputer! More powerful than a 10 gigahertz chip! Able to leap tall mountains of program logic without a single loop, the infant of the Steppes is now the Man, the Maestro ... the SuperGeek!
We all know him or her. The techno-wizard is always in demand. The man of the hour ... the moment. He or she is indispensable, though no one knew they existed just 15 or so years ago.
Who is this guy? From whence did he spring, and why do we need him?
Well, he's our IT guy. Also our GT (as in "Go To") guy. And in our world here in Ukraine, he's a Slav: A Ukrainian or Russian or other of the tribes of the Eastern Slavic peoples. And he or she is special, for he's acquired a reputation - a worldwide reputation.
He's part genius, part crazy, manic and zany, and as a song says, "a walking contradiction." He must be profound. His response to our query in time of need is spoken solemnly; always leaving us with doubt, some fear and an uneasy feeling not readily explainable or quantifiable. We listen to the words, which come forth in strange form, as he speaks only some of our language. But yet, he busies himself and later we find we can work again. He leaves, off on another mission, which is always an apparent emergency. We continue working happily, if mystified and knowing that we'll need him again soon. Of that, there is no doubt, as it has been our learned experience since he began appearing in our lives some time back, though seemingly not long ago.
Who is he? In this paean, we call him SuperGeek. The lines first written above parody the introduction to the original Superman serial on American television. And he seems super in this context though surely this must be mostly, or at least somewhat, due to our lack of training and experience in the mysterious science he practices. But there is more too. The appellation "geek" is here applied not in the pejorative sense but rather as in Webster's: "[slang] a person regarded as being especially enthusiastic, knowledgeable and skillful in the use of computers."
Our SuperGeek did not of course just spring upon us, though it seems so. How quickly we went from secretaries, typewriters, Dictaphones, stationary and postage to sitting in front of a TV screen (that we soon learned to call a monitor), our fingers on
a keyboard typing e-mails. That was when he appeared, seemingly from the abyss, but clearly out of necessity.
"Why do we need him?" Because we do. In fact, a modern office can't operate long without him. These magnificent, utilitarian electronic wonders we work with (or on, some incorrectly say) are quirky. They work wondrously, but not all of the time. So, in desperation we call, and SuperGeek appears.
SuperGeek - and I think our Slavic ones manifestly unique - deserves his reputation and our respect. SlavaGeek (note the slight variant here) has gained a worldwide reputation of sorts. Of a major sort, really.
Working with less, he does more. Where does the software come from? You know, the updated and improved version of McDonasoft Version 7.2. How did that spare thingamajig new part appear just in time? Some of this stuff hasn't even been licensed in Ukraine yet!
Like famous high-wire walker Karl Wallenda, the office IT guy performs without a net. Flow Chart? Why?, he asks. Documentation? Who needs it? His mind will not be molested, corrupted with the mundane.
In an earlier era, today's SlavaGeek may have been a military supply clerk. He may have spent his formative years apprenticing as a "second-story man," or as a pool shark. Who knows?
Watch SlavaGeek work. His hands on the keyboard are a marvel: he speeds from the keyboard to the I/O switch, a hand is on the monitor controls, another hand swipes at the modem, one strike and coaxial cable has changed ports (Does he have four hands? Five?). The speed, the dexterity ... ah, fortissimo ... crescendo...
fortissimo... then, diminuendo to pianissimo ... now again more movement, or so it seems in our imagination. He works his art mysteriously. Bravo!
Our Maestro's fingers dance over the keyboard as he trips the light fantastic. We need these men and women. They are clearly indispensable. We admire them (though some may have in the past honed their skills by hacking into computers not their own, risking exposure and prominence on an SBU wanted list and prosecution). But thus educated and, we suppose, reformed, these characters are truly important to modern business.
Hence our Cartoon Cover this month. As we thought of our own SlavaGeek and those like him, we pictured him "in concert" during a competition. As in a concert, these virtuosos of a different keyboard perform daily, just as a Van Cliburn or Liberace, but in a different medium, and to a tune only they can hear.
This is our tribute. To the important and the indispensable...
we salute you!
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