Recently a few readers sent us letters expressing support for our journal. Here are some excerpts from them:
"While browsing the Internet, I found that infamous Triz-journal, tried to read some articles, luckily, before too late, discovered your Anti-Triz journal. Couldn't argee more with your position." (A. G., Washington, D.C.)
"Unfortunately, TRIZ by not becoming a science, became a scavenge for crooks. While Altshuller was in control he held them away or constrained. Now they make of it what they want. It is a result of both: a nature of crooks and a nature of TRIZ." (F.G., New York)
The editorial board has discussed these letters and completely agreed with the readers' opinion. Moreover, there seem to be many people sharing similar views. Therefore, the board decided that Anti TRIZ-journal has to become not only a tool of the corresponding propaganda but also an organizer of all such people.
As a first step in this direction, the board moved to compose hymn of Anti TRIZ-journal. As a prototype, some forgotten Russian poem was chosen and then altered to adapt it to the TRIZ reality. The results of this effort are presented below. The readers are invited to apply their TRIZ skills to figure out the title and the author of the original poem. (Hint: this is a level 3 problem.)
Conversation with Mr. Altshuller
Awhirl with events, packed with jobs one too many, the day slowly sinks as the night shadows fall. There are two in the room: I and Genrich - a photograph on the whiteness of wall. Mouth is open in tense speech, Expressive eyes look straight. There in wrinkles it's squeezed A human thought large as the forehead It looks like he talks to the thousands, Attentive people, auditoriums packed. I couldn't sit still, risen by eagerness To report, to salute, to enact. Mister Altshuller, I give this account, Not as a duty but from my heart. Mister Altshuller, the job mounts But will be done and is going hard! We train, educate, and teach ignorants, We work hard for your dream to fulfill. However, there is a lot of arrogants, muck and rubbish around us still. It is tiring to fight and to argue, Without you, they have got out of hands. Very many TRIZ machinators Act up in US, and all lands. There's no a name or a handle, A long row of types goes by: Fools, idiots, and just swindlers, Crooks, sectarians, and charlatans. They present themselves proudly, up noses, Flashing buzz words, references and certificates. We'll uproot all of them, of course, But to uproot all is terribly difficult. Mister Altshuller, along a strange route, In all lands and seasons fling, With your, the teacher's, name and heart, We think, breathe, struggle and live! Awhirl with events, packed with jobs one too many, the day slowly sinks as the night shadows fall. There are two in the room: I and Genrich - a photograph on the whiteness of wall.
(adaptation and alteration by G. Filkovsky and Y. Karasik. Translation to English (except for the first quatrain) by G. Filkovsky. Translation of the first quatrain by unknown.)