With Apologies to The Bard. . .

To LART or not to LART - that's not the question:
Tis always nobler in the mind to avenge
The slings and arrows of Cisco routers
And to take a flamethrower against a sea of stupid managers
And by this burning end them.

They die, they sleep--
We're better - and by a sleep to say we end
Our heartache, giving managers the thousand-volt shocks
They richly deserve. Tis a punishment
Devoutly to be wished.

They die, WE sleep--
We sleep - perchance we dream: ay, there's the rub,
For in that sleep what dreams of LARTs may come
When we have shuffled Manglers off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There's no respect;
It's a calamity they've had so long a life.

Sysadmins bear the whips and scorns of Lusers,
The Managers stupid, the service request impossible,
the pangs of virus infections, the mail server's delay,
The insolence of morons and the spurns
That patient merit of the luser takes,
When he himself might his browsing make
With a bare Linux install? Who would muppets bear,
To grunt and sweat under the requests of cretins
But that the dread of supporting WinME
The undesired OS, from whose clutches
No saved file returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear the users we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?

Thus duty does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native 1024x768 resolution
is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of Windows
And enterprise apps of great pitch and complexity
with this regard their currents turn awry
and lose their RAID controller. --Soft you now,
The fair Ubuntu! --OS, in thy hard drive
Be all my Clues remembered.