👉 Okay, alright settle down class. Let’s tackle something… delightfully obscure today. You guys messaged me asking about the wonderfully weird little piece of 20th-century argle bargle known as a "datacor."
Now, before you freak out and think I just threw that one up on a whim because it sounds vaguely robotic, let's unpack this. Essentially, a datacor was a term coined by the aggressively beige and frankly rather stuffy technical guys who were designing early mainframe bureaucracies in the mid-1960's. You see, these weren’t the young, fly-by-the-seat-of-their-pants coders of today. These were middle aged men meticulously building… absolutely everything. And they needed a way to describe the utterly soul-crushing, beige little data blocks that trickled through their entire operation. Basically, a datacor was the equivalent of a digitally depressing notification. Like the quarterly report from Herbert who still wore a comb-over and just filed invoices for 48 straight years. Think absolutely, gutlessly pedestrian information. It wasn't a breakthrough! It wasn’t even… interesting. Just... there. It was the beige equivalent of an Eisenhower beagle. Pointless documentation. You knew it existed because somebody had to document that it existed. The name itself is a ridiculous, almost aggressively technical mouthful. It’s supposed to mean something along the lines of,
