The Fieldbus Quadrille

With Apologies to Lewis Carroll
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland - The Lobster Quadrille


By : Jim Pinto,
San Diego, CA.
USA


This poem was not intended to demean any company, or organization.
Rather, it represents my own, personal view of the paradoxical situation that currently exists in the Industrial Automation business.

The Fieldbus Quadrille has been published in several major journals and newsletters and, as of yet, not even one person, or company has disputed the positions (or facts) represented.


"Will you walk a little faster!" LISPed Rosemount to the Foxboro snail
"There’s a Siemens right behind me and he’s treading on my tail!
See how eagerly the horde of hungry hangers-on advance
They are waiting for the standard and they’ll blindly join the dance
Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you join the dance?"

    "You can really have no notion how delightful it will be,
    If we simply make a standard, why can’t we just agree?"
    "World FIP! World FIP!" cried Honeywell and gave a look askance
    And Allen-B and Bailey too, just would not join the dance.
    Would not, could not, would not, could not join the dance!

"Lets join our games, pretend we’re friends!" the Rosemount then replied
"‘Cause Emerson wants this Fieldbus thing to show some American pride.
ISP is German Profibus and FIP is made in France
So why don’t we just join our games and we will both advance!
Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, won’t you join the dance?"

    So they all held hands and joined the dance and agreed that they were friends
    Fieldbus Foundation was the name, the very best of blends!
    Siemens brought back Profibus and the French brought back their FIP
    And the SP-50 standard it just continu-ed to slip
    Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you join the dance?

In this dance and whirligig, are end-users there perchance?
‘Cause its for them, the vendors swear, as they perpetuate the dance
The horde of hungry hangers-on, they eagerly swell the throng
But end-users have all fled the scene, ‘cause they simply think it’s wrong!
Will not , still not, had their fill not, will not join the dance....

    Meantime the other fieldbusses jump gleefully to the show
    There’s LON and CAN and Profibus and a dozen more
    The horde of hungry hangers-on they think that this means $ales
    And simply end up on the shore, beached on the sand like whales.
    Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you join the dance?



Another poem : Net d'jour Read another poem, Net d'jour, on "open" networks at ISA.

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