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ITS

ITS

(1)
Incompatible time-sharing System

An influential but highly idiosyncratic operating system written for the PDP-6 and PDP-10 at MIT and long used at the MIT AI Lab. Much AI-hacker jargon derives from ITS folklore, and to have been "an ITS hacker" qualifies one instantly as an old-timer of the most venerable sort. ITS pioneered many important innovations, including transparent file sharing between machines and terminal-independent I/O. After about 1982, most actual work was shifted to newer machines, with the remaining ITS boxes run essentially as a hobby and service to the hacker community. The shutdown of the lab's last ITS machine in May 1990 marked the end of an era and sent old-time hackers into mourning nationwide (see high moby). The Royal Institute of Technology in Sweden is maintaining one "live" ITS site at its computer museum (right next to the only TOPS-10 system still on the Internet), so ITS is still alleged to hold the record for OS in longest continuous use (however, WAITS is a credible rival for this palm).

ITS

(2)
A mythical image of operating system perfection worshiped by a bizarre, fervent retro-cult of old-time hackers and ex-users (see troglodyte). ITS worshipers manage somehow to continue believing that an OS maintained by assembly language hand-hacking that supported only monocase 6-character filenames in one directory per account remains superior to today's state of commercial art (their venom against Unix is particularly intense).

See also holy wars, Weenix.

ITS

(Intelligent Transportation Systems) An umbrella term for vehicle automation. See ITS America, V2X, IDB, telematics and automotive systems.
References in classic literature ?
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Oh, well, let it go; it's no matter - I'll talk to the doctor.
The shops here are all altered, I think--I can't make 'em out; but I shall know the turning, because it's the third."
I don't believe it's got any right to be around in the daytime.
Then turbot with thick sauce, then...roast beef; and mind it's good.
It's a lovely day, no prospect of rain, and you pride yourself on keeping; promises, so be honorable, come and do your duty, and then be at peace for another six months."
It's a queer cipher that you handle by the yard every day and can get no meaning from.
You go whistling about, and take no more care what you're thinking of than if your heads were gutters for any rubbish to swill through that happened to be in the way; and if you get a good notion in 'em, it's pretty soon washed out again.
"Oh, I don't mean just the tree; of course it's lovely--yes, it's RADIANTLY lovely--it blooms as if it meant it--but I meant everything, the garden and the orchard and the brook and the woods, the whole big dear world.
No, it's because it has a kind of motherly perfume--not too young, you understand--something kind of seasoned and wholesome and dependable--jest like a mother.
"It's a mere excuse for self-indulgence and sensuality," he said.
Well, never mind, it's true I'm to blame, to blame all round.