Tuesday, January 06, 2009

Snoopy Dance

So ... my day? I spent part of my day doing stuff that I love-love-love. In particular looking at a Really Important FTP server to see why it failed for ten minutes last week.

I love this kind of nitpick crap so much it's not funny.

Put me in a job where I gotta deal with people and their problems all day long and I suck. [1]

When the job involves looking intently at rows and rows of text and thinking hard about how machines work, I seem to do okay.


Long story short these lines in /var/log/xfer repeated 43 times in four seconds

Dec xx 14:05:40 hostname ftpd[17939]: connection from apphost.domain.com to ftp.domain.com
Dec xx 14:05:40 hostname ftpd[17939]: FTP LOGIN FAILED FROM apphost.domain.com


I found this line in /var/log/messages

Dec xx 14:05:44 hostnae inetd[28216]: ftp/tcp max spawn rate (40 in 60 seconds) exceeded; service not started


And a light went on in my head like the bells of St. Marks' ringing changes up on the mountain.

Because my server is doing exactly what it should be doing.

And this makes me happy.


[1] I can tolerate it for months at a time. Hell, I went for a solid year doing desktop support in a dysfunctional environment [2] but it drove me bugfuck crazy. I hated the work, but I liked the people I was working for and I guess I was faking actual competence because they kept me around and said things to my boss like 'he's really good, don't take him off the contract'. Also the motherly administrative assistant in Marketing gave me cookies when I came around. She didn't give just anyone cookies.

[2] How dysfunctional? Every .. single .. worksation had a hand-coded IP address. In 1999. All 2,253 of them. Maintained in an Excel spreadsheet. That was kept on a server. That was not backed up.
[3]

[3] Why, yes, the spreadsheet did spontaneously corrupt one day. How did you know?

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