It is not easy to analyse the personality of the [London County] Council, but it is a sharply-marked personality. […] It despises the wordster and the tonguester. It is, in short, a big committee rather than a Parliament.
In other words, some script-kiddie blindly launching a “sploit” to a range of addresses does not exactly embody the essence of this category.
[…] they had no sense of their condition; they were happy in a flowery, an arborous Sicilian garden: the volcano was below, and the giant earthquake only asleep.
The pair have reached that fearful chasm, How tempting to bestride! For lordly Wharf is there pent in With rocks on either side. This striding-place is called THE STRID, A name which it took of yore: A thousand years hath it borne that name, And shall a thousand more.
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