From cphoenix@csli.Stanford.EDU Thu Nov 16 22:14:13 1989 From: cphoenix@csli.Stanford.EDU (Chris Phoenix) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: A Toast! Date: 17 Nov 89 01:48:09 GMT Reply-To: cphoenix@csli.stanford.edu (Chris Phoenix) Organization: Center for the Study of Language and Information, Stanford U. Keywords: strongest magic personas Status: O In article <9056@microsoft.UUCP> brandyt@microsoft.UUCP (Brandy Thorpe) writes: >To the strongest magic! >Whether or not Callahan's Saloon ever existed in any other place than Spider's >books, what we are trying to build here is _real_. I would like whole people >to visit. I know the comfort using a persona can give, but I do not visit >Electronic Callahan's to get to know more personas, I visit to give my >persona weary heart and soul a rest. I tend to agree with this. Personas are neat, and I enjoy reading them... but the most important magic, for me anyway, is seeing *people*, not the masks they design. I often feel like all I see in real life is masks, and it's really nice to find a place where people can be themselves. It's the same thing as the intimacy I was talking about--you can admire a mask, even enjoy wearing it or talking to it... but you can't be intimate with it. So keep the personas coming... but also, keep the people coming! -- Chris Phoenix | A harp is a nude piano. cphoenix@csli.Stanford.EDU | "More input! More input!" First we got the Bomb, and that was good, cause we love peace and motherhood. Disclaimer: I want a kinder, gentler net with a thousand pints of lite. From GE.LJB@forsythe.stanford.edu Thu Nov 16 23:28:59 1989 From: GE.LJB@forsythe.stanford.edu (Louis J Bookbinder) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: start of a story, perhaps? Date: 17 Nov 89 01:59:09 GMT Status: O We've seen the guy before, but since he was quiet over his beer each night, we learned nothing. Tonight he is obviously working up to a toast. He is big. About 6-2, easily 100 kilos, but he does not appear clumsy. He wears slacks and a plaid flannel shirt, on cold days a heavy leather jacket of somehow European make. He wears shiny brown shoes which somehow do not quite fit. His hair is well trimmed but a blondish forlock always seems to fall loose. His hands do not appear calloused. He has seen at least 5 people toast various things, he stared goggle-eyed at the unicorn and twice was startled by Snoopy on the bar and Ralph asking Tom for a refill. Today he knows what to do. He gets up. Everything gets quiet. Fast Eddie winds up a poor attempt and C Jam Blues and swivels from the upright, mug in hand. He walks to the bar, directly to Mike and says, in a heavy German accent, "I pay entire dollar for toast?" "Right. Same brew?" "Ja, please." The buck changes hands. Mike pours it out, clunks it on the bar. The German carefully picks it up and starts swallowing, 4 swallows. He steps to the line. Carefully, as if afraid of injury to anyone, with no anger whatsoever, he tosses the glass into the fireplace. The crowd is almost disappointed at the lack of vehemence. But then he says the toast. "To Walls - they prove is two sides to all things." He turns and looks at us all and adds, "What could be fitter toast for former guard of great Berlin Wall! I was there, I saw it built, I helped make it work, now I see it come down. I still not understand you, Americans. You see Democratische Republik put up abomination wall and say nothing, now you see it come down and still say nothing, and you behind it all, you do it all for us. Why? How?" He sighs. He looks back at Mike. "I see how you run this place, is bar, is not bar, is good place. I want to share. Tonight I start. But is enough for now. I tell you next time what is like to guard wall. I not here to confess, I just did my job and take no, uh, crap for that. No, I now no more talk. You enjoy selves, you find my story interesting, maybe, and I listen to your stories. We have fun." "Auf Viedersehen" And is gone. Booky - You Bet! (What? me? opinions? Bo) GE.LJB@Forsythe.stanford.edu From mikegal@microsoft.UUCP Fri Nov 17 01:50:11 1989 From: mikegal@microsoft.UUCP (Michael Galos) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: A Toast! Date: 17 Nov 89 04:05:36 GMT Reply-To: mikegal@microsoft.UUCP (Michael Galos) Organization: Microsoft Corp., Redmond WA Keywords: strongest magic personas Status: O again. Let's try to make this place (like the real Callahan's) a place where we can strip off our psychic clothing and sit in the warm rain on the roof. To acceptance. Mike From gsh7w@astsun8.astro.Virginia.EDU Fri Nov 17 01:50:46 1989 From: gsh7w@astsun8.astro.Virginia.EDU (Greg S. Hennessy) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: A Toast Date: 17 Nov 89 05:16:21 GMT Reply-To: gsh7w@astsun8.astro.Virginia.EDU (Greg S. Hennessy) Distribution: usa Organization: University of Virginia, Charlottesville Keywords: A new face in the Place... Status: O In article <3082@jarthur.Claremont.EDU> dtrindle@jarthur.UUCP (D. J. Trindle) writes: #Stalking up to the line, he #downs his drink quickly, coughs once, and booms "To physics!" The sound of #breaking glass seems to take something out of him. An then a cry from the bearded person from the third table from the fireplace, "To Physics!" A sheepish grin emerges, and a voice, "Well, at least I did laundry last night." -Greg Hennessy, University of Virginia USPS Mail: Astronomy Department, Charlottesville, VA 22903-2475 USA Internet: gsh7w@virginia.edu UUCP: ...!uunet!virginia!gsh7w From mikegal@microsoft.UUCP Mon Nov 20 02:11:10 1989 From: mikegal@microsoft.UUCP (Michael Galos) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: It's Riddle Night! Date: 17 Nov 89 09:11:35 GMT Reply-To: mikegal@microsoft.UUCP (Michael Galos) Organization: Microsoft Corp., Redmond WA Status: O In category I (SPIDER ROBINSON STORIES) 5 of 6 so far! Tend, Assassin MIND;KILLER AgaiNst, Alaska town, Myself ANTINOMY (ANTI,NOME,I) Cantaloupe, Lassie; Fitzgerald, Typefaces MELANCHOLY ELEPHANTS (MELON, COLLIE;ELLA FONTS) Inform, Printer's measure, Trail TELEMPATH (TELL,EM,PATH) Spice; Less stale TIME PRESSURE (THYME;FRESHER) In category II Wallop; Croon, sea birds HIT SINGLES (HIT;SING,GULLS) In category III Callahan, Caviar, Knight, Judging panel MICROSURGERY (MIKE,ROE,SIR,JURY) From M6S@PSUVM.BITNET Mon Nov 20 02:11:26 1989 From: M6S@PSUVM.BITNET Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Riddle Night Winners and Answers Date: 17 Nov 89 08:07:43 GMT Organization: Penn State University Status: O A tired and startled kid wanders out of a corner to drop a bill on the bar. "Something strong.... A lemonade. Thanks." He drinks slowly, nervously looking from the pencil in one hand to the glass in the other. "Well, I guess I've got to toast to obsession. Um.... To obsession!" "I'd really like to be RiddleMaster next Tuesday, but I'll have to pass it up. I'll be out of town for Thanksgiving. Maybe another time." He heads back to the bar and gets another lemonade. "That wasn't the toast I've been thinking about. That one goes more like: To cosines and convergence and computers and critical points and, of course, to Callahan's. To three and to much and to wound the autumnal city. Oh, and to shards!" "There seem to be a lot of physics people here. If any of them want to give me some advice, I'll be over there studying for my mechanics exam." "It's a pleasure meeting you all." And he moves back into the corner, and starts scribbling formulas on a sheet of paper. From gilly@bucsf.bu.edu Mon Nov 20 02:11:27 1989 From: gilly@bucsf.bu.edu (Gilly Rosenthol) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: A Toast! Date: 17 Nov 89 18:02:18 GMT Reply-To: gilly@bucsf.bu.edu (Gilly Rosenthol) Organization: Boston University In-reply-to: brandyt@microsoft.UUCP's message of 16 Nov 89 20:14:01 GMT Status: O The door opens cheerfully, and a short brown-haired woman with smiling eyes walks in. She is wearing a comfortable black sweater, a faded pair of blue jeans, and a denim jacket. When she turns to shut the door behind her, the back of her jacket becomes visible. It is almost totally covered with buttons with such sayings as "Forwarned is half an octopus," "Think `honk' if you're a telepath," and "Do you know where your towel is?". As she enters the room, she visibly relaxes. Making her way slowly to the bar, she weaves her way among the tables, stopping frequently to share a pun or a hug with her friends, and once stopping to massage a particularly tense set of shoulders. When she finally arrives at the bar, she pays her dollar and collects a Horse's Ass from Mike. She wanders back to a particularly interesting conversation she heard going on in a corner. She arrives just in time to hear Brandy say "I would like whole people to visit. I know the comfort using a persona can give, but I do not visit Electronic Callahan's to get to know more personas, I visit to give my persona weary heart and soul a rest." Gilly (for of course it is she) says thoughtfully, "I'm not sure if I agree with that. Of course, Callahan's is a place to be yourself. But I think some people are more themselves in their personas than in their everyday name and form. As long as the personas are to be yourself, instead of to hide, I have no problem with them." She drains her glass and tosses it into the fireplace. "To being yourself," she calls out, "and to having someone to share it with." +--------------------+-------------------------------------------------------+ | Gilly Rosenthol |"Don't dream it, be it" -The Rocky Horror Picture Show | | gilly@bucsb.bu.edu |"On ne voit bien qu'avec le coeur. | | | L'essentiel est invisible aux yeux." -Le Petit Prince | +--------------------+-------------------------------------------------------+ -- +--------------------+-------------------------------------------------------+ | Gilly Rosenthol |"Don't dream it, be it" -The Rocky Horror Picture Show | | gilly@bucsb.bu.edu |"On ne voit bien qu'avec le coeur. | | | L'essentiel est invisible aux yeux." -Le Petit Prince | +--------------------+-------------------------------------------------------+ From shoulson@cunixc.cc.columbia.edu Mon Nov 20 02:11:28 1989 From: shoulson@cunixc.cc.columbia.edu (Mark Shoulson) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Well, it's time... Date: 16 Nov 89 14:39:30 GMT Reply-To: shoulson@cunixc.cc.columbia.edu (Mark Shoulson) Distribution: alt Organization: Columbia University Status: O In article <42743@bu-cs.BU.EDU> ckd@bu-pub.bu.edu (Christopher Davis) writes: > "To friends, both near and far, both met and unmet. Hail!" Seconded. /*crash*/ Hope to see more of you around. >-- > Christopher Davis, BU SMG '90 > "Technology is dominated by those who manage what they do not understand." ~mark o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o Mark Shoulson: shoulson@cunixc.cc.columbia.edu shoulson@cunixc.bitnet {...}!rutgers!columbia!cunixc!shoulson From ssk@cunixb.cc.columbia.edu Mon Nov 20 02:11:29 1989 From: ssk@cunixb.cc.columbia.edu (Shana S Kaye) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Well, it's time... Date: 17 Nov 89 01:52:57 GMT Reply-To: ssk@cunixb.cc.columbia.edu (Shana S Kaye) Distribution: alt Organization: Columbia University Status: O In article <2182@cunixc.cc.columbia.edu> shoulson@cunixc.cc.columbia.edu (Mark Shoulson) writes: >In article <42743@bu-cs.BU.EDU> ckd@bu-pub.bu.edu (Christopher Davis) writes: > >> "To friends, both near and far, both met and unmet. Hail!" > >Seconded. /*crash*/ >Hope to see more of you around. > >>-- >> Christopher Davis, BU SMG '90 >> "Technology is dominated by those who manage what they do not understand." > >~mark Thirded. (If that is a word, and if it isn't, it should be.) **crashtinkle** Shana Kaye ssk@cunixb.cc.columbia.edu *********************************************** * God didn't create the world in six days, * * he procrastinated for five * * and pulled an all-nighter. * *********************************************** From mcr@cunixc.cc.columbia.edu Mon Nov 20 02:11:29 1989 From: mcr@cunixc.cc.columbia.edu (Michele Rizack) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Burnt toast Date: 17 Nov 89 19:01:11 GMT Distribution: na Organization: Columbia University Keywords: no puns Status: O No one noticed her walk in, no one noticed her one dollar bill on the bar ( but somehow she had gotten a hold of a glass of beer ), but everyone suddenly felt cosier. They finally noticed her when she walked up to the line. Not a beautiful woman, but she was a young and pretty brunette with a nice smile. Her smile left as she raised the glass and chugged it as well as any frat brother. Then, "To marriage!" and she hurtled the glass into oblivion. She stood and stared into the fire, the reflection of the flames on her glasses looking as if they came from her eyes. Then she sighed, looked for an empty armchair and curled up on it like a kitten. Hello all, I do tend to be a background process but occasionally I get signaled. I consider myself a wank, so I don't consider my last sentance to be punny. Maybe next time. /m -- "Hence always rid yourself of desires in order to observe its secrets. But always allow yourself to have desires in order to observe its manifestations." -- good ole' Lao From shoulson@cunixc.cc.columbia.edu Mon Nov 20 02:11:30 1989 From: shoulson@cunixc.cc.columbia.edu (Mark Shoulson) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Burnt toast Date: 17 Nov 89 19:39:55 GMT Reply-To: shoulson@cunixc.cc.columbia.edu (Mark Shoulson) Distribution: na Organization: Columbia University Keywords: no puns Status: O In article <2199@cunixc.cc.columbia.edu> mcr@cunixc.cc.columbia.edu (Michele Rizack) writes: >Hello all, I do tend to be a background process but occasionally I >get signaled. I consider myself a wank, so I don't consider my last >sentance to be punny. Maybe next time. Hey, M'chelle! I didn't know you were a Callahanian! Good to have you around. I think it is incumbent upon me to explain Michelle's last line, since the term "wank" is used in this sense only at Columbia (to my knowlege). Among us here at Columbia (esp. the Center for Computing Activities) it signifies a hacker, in either a pejorative or complementary sense, depending on context and intent. It's also a verb (intransitive) and an adjective ("wanky"). Apologies to any British readers, because I know what the term means there! > >/m ~mark >-- >"Hence always rid yourself of desires in order to > observe its secrets. > But always allow yourself to have desires in order > to observe its manifestations." -- good ole' Lao o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o Mark Shoulson: shoulson@cunixc.cc.columbia.edu shoulson@cunixc.bitnet {...}!rutgers!columbia!cunixc!shoulson From leonard@bucket.UUCP Mon Nov 20 02:11:31 1989 From: leonard@bucket.UUCP (Leonard Erickson) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: music Date: 14 Nov 89 09:50:51 GMT Organization: Rick's Home-Grown UNIX; Portland, OR. Keywords: Pun warning Status: O I don't think the scale of this is in my range... -- Leonard Erickson ...!tektronix!reed!percival!bucket!leonard CIS: [70465,203] "I'm all in favor of keeping dangerous weapons out of the hands of fools. Let's start with typewriters." -- Solomon Short From ckd@bu-pub.bu.edu Mon Nov 20 02:11:31 1989 From: ckd@bu-pub.bu.edu (Christopher K Davis) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Well, it's time... Date: 18 Nov 89 08:12:03 GMT Distribution: alt Organization: Boston University School of Management In-reply-to: ssk@cunixb.cc.columbia.edu's message of 17 Nov 89 01:52:57 GMT Status: O To everyone who posted, who sent mail, said hi to me on IRC... Thanks. To everyone who has ever posted here--or just lurked, and read, and thought... You're welcome. Folks, this one's on me. [Oh... and a pun... what would a posting to alt.callahans be without the pun?] This is your chance to flee if you don't like puns: High on a rocky hill there was a castle. The main claim to usefulness of this castle was that it couldn't be attacked by surprise--there was no ground cover for miles. The inhabitants survived on the meager output of the gardens and animal pens inside the walls. One day the lookout noticed a small patch of green on the rocky ground outside. When the castle's folk investigated, they found that there were some blades of grass clinging to life there. They thought nothing of it, and ignored it, figuring the grass would soon die. It didn't. After a few weeks, the grass had spread to cover a large portion of the hill, and was getting taller and taller. Soon it would be tall enough for the baron's enemies to sneak up on the castle and plant bombs next to the walls and all that generally undesirable sort of enemy-type behavior without fear of detection by the lookouts. The baron's men had tried everything--cutting the grass with machetes and scythes (which didn't work; the grass seemed uncuttable); casting powerful death spells on the grass (which didn't work very well--the baron's wizard was a pretty poor excuse for one, actually); even dumping noxious liquids (such as diet soda) onto the grass wouldn't kill it. Finally, in desperation, the baron turned to his court jester for suggestions. The jester thought for a time, then ran outside to where the grass grew (by this point, it was taller than his head), and mumbled something the baron didn't catch. Suddenly, the grass withered, died, and blew away. The baron was naturally quite surprised, and asked the jester just what he'd done. The jester replied: "Everyone knows the pun is mightier than the sward." -- Christopher Davis, BU SMG '90 "Technology is dominated by those who manage what they do not understand." From beers@batcomputer.tn.cornell.edu Mon Nov 20 02:11:31 1989 From: beers@batcomputer.tn.cornell.edu (Jim Beers) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: A Toast! Date: 18 Nov 89 17:58:48 GMT Reply-To: beers@tcgould.tn.cornell.edu (Jim Beers) Organization: Cornell Theory Center, Cornell University, Ithaca NY Keywords: strongest magic personas Status: O >I tend to agree with this. Personas are neat, and I enjoy reading them... >but the most important magic, for me anyway, is seeing *people*, not the >masks they design. I often feel like all I see in real life is masks, and >it's really nice to find a place where people can be themselves. It's the >same thing as the intimacy I was talking about--you can admire a mask, even >enjoy wearing it or talking to it... but you can't be intimate with it. I used to wake up every morning, and take a shower, and put on my mask, but no more. Now I have one of those new, extended wear masks. They take a while to get used to, but now I wake up in the morning and look at myself in the mirror, and see my mask. But of course, once a month, I have to take off the mask and it is an ugly sight. I avoid the mirror on that day! I have not seen the real me in almost a year now. "he strolls into the place, that he has never seen before, and drops a buck on the bar, and gets a drink. After drinking it, and discussing the custom of a toast, he desires to do so" "to reality, may I find it hiding here" "he walks back to his seat, quit dazed, he has never made a toast like that before, perhaps the magic of this place is already getting to him." JB From austin@bucsf.bu.edu Mon Nov 20 02:11:32 1989 From: austin@bucsf.bu.edu (Austin Ziegler) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Home for the holidays Date: 19 Nov 89 07:02:09 GMT Organization: Boston University College of Engineering Status: O He makes a rather spectacular entrance. When the bright lights fade from around him, he is apparently some sort of mage. You have never seen him nor even heard of him. "Well met, my friends. I am Magyk. I have been scrying upon you for some time, and even talking with some of you in another plane. Then, this weekend I became depressed. For the longest time, I could not figure out why I was depressed. Then, as I was talking to friends, it came clear. But for this, Magyk is not enough." Lights flash again and stands before you a young man, he looks about 23, slightly overweight, thick glasses, blond hair, moustache, and you think blue eyes. He has a glum look on his face, and walks over to the bar. "Mike, I'd like a Diet Coke, please." He puts down his dollar bill, and drinks the Diet Coke set before him. "Well, I came here because I was told by a good friend of mine, Chris, that this was a good place to go. Since I'm putting down my dollar bill, I had best make my toast." "To family." He then throws it into the fireplace in a fit of passion and the mug shatters noisily. "Let me explain." "For the first time in my life, all 18 years of it, I'm not going to be able to join my family for Thanksgiving. Up until now, I have not been scared about being away from home. Now, however, the reality of how far away I really am strikes hard. I hate this. I am going to spend this upcoming weekend with a family that I know nothing more than they are my Dad's cousins. So, I feel very out of place. It will not be the same without my family. I feel glad for everyone who can make it home over Thanksgiving Weekend. To you, I say 'feel compassionate for those of us who cannot go home.'" He turns, "I am not easily scared or worried. But now, I am both. I'll be around. I don't really know when, but I'll be around. Either out of my mask..." the lights flash again and the mage returns "...or in. I'll be around. I know it." Everyone averts their eyes from him as he teleports out. On the floor where he stood are the initials AHZ. Magyk (austin@bucsf.bu.edu) 700 Commonwealth Box 2094, Boston, MA 02215 Austin Herbert Ziegler, III "Yes, I'm the crazy person running an EMail AD&D adventure!" -- Me From shoulson@cunixc.cc.columbia.edu Mon Nov 20 02:11:33 1989 From: shoulson@cunixc.cc.columbia.edu (Mark Shoulson) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Life? Date: 19 Nov 89 05:05:48 GMT Organization: Columbia University Status: O He walks unsteadily to the bar, seemingly unable to focus on what's right in front of him. A dirty single on the bar, and a shot of something-or-other appears in his hand as if by magic. With the same unsteady gait, the chalk line is approached by him (his writing suffers, too). "To ..... (what? I dunno...) To the future!" /* smash */ The fire flares slightly as it devours the last of the something-or-other in the glass. I'm sorry, guys. I know it's not usually my style to write in third person or narrate, etc. I'm feeling weird tonight, and I wanted to talk to the world (or Callahan's, which'll do). I'm a senior here at Columbia, and the pressures of that horrible thing known as the Real World (tm) suddenly seemed to loom over me. They had no right to; I have some time before I really have to start worrying, and even then I haven't much to worry about, but you know how sometimes things strike you for no reason at all. I needed to talk to someone, and I have friends here who are excellent listeners, but somehow I couldn't speak. (You reading this, Shanie?) Somehow the ... impersonality? Universality? of USENET makes it easier. I don't know if that was the only thing bothering me. Has it ever happenned to you that your mind just goes weird straight out of the blue? There was a play here tonight, some theater group put on _Hair_. Excellent play. They did it quite well. I was even good about not singing along. But for some reason it touched a nerve or something, and I'm only now getting out of it. This is essentially talking to myself out loud on a keyboard (cartharsis is a strange thing, isn't it?) I dunno. Sorry to waste bandwidth on a passing emotion, but that's what Callahan's is for. ~mark "Where do I go? Follow the river. Where do I go? Follow the gulls. Where will they lead me, and will I ever discover why I live and die?" -Hair (Note temporary change in .sig) From shoulson@cunixc.cc.columbia.edu Mon Nov 20 02:11:33 1989 From: shoulson@cunixc.cc.columbia.edu (Mark Shoulson) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: The Czar Date: 19 Nov 89 19:01:20 GMT Organization: Columbia University Keywords: shaggy dog Status: O Hey, Mike, give me a beer, my mouth has gone dry... Thanks. (Note: Some slight knowledge of Russian geography needed.) Have you guys heard about the terrible happennings in Russia before the revolution? Once, there was a czar who had imposed a terrible tax on the whole country. He sent out his emmissaries to all the major cities to collect it. They ransacked the country collecting this terrible tax, and the czar raked in the dough. But the emmissary he sent to Yalta didn't return. When he was a few weeks late, the czar sent out a messenger to find out what became of him. The messenger returned with a tale of the Yaltans' disdain for the czar's new tax, and the head of the tax collector, messily severed. The czar was incensed. He sent a small detachment of troops to levy the tax, and they were all sent back in short order in rather more pieces than they had left in. The czar started sending large chunks of his army there, knowing the Yaltans were not well armed. Somehow, every last soldier was slaughtered. Admitting defeat, the czar repealed the tax (at least for that area), and send a messenger under a white flag to parley with the city. "But why didn't you pay the tax, and how were you able to stand against the czar?" asked the messenger. "It's very simple," responded the mayor. "You see. . . CRIMEA DOESN'T PAY!" (whoever complains about another pronunciation of the word has to buy a round of vodka...) ~mark o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o Mark Shoulson: shoulson@cunixc.cc.columbia.edu shoulson@cunixc.bitnet {...}!rutgers!columbia!cunixc!shoulson P.S. feeling better now... From kaufman@gmu90x.gmu.edu Mon Nov 20 02:11:34 1989 From: kaufman@gmu90x.gmu.edu (Ken Kaufman) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Home for the holidays Date: 20 Nov 89 03:49:18 GMT Reply-To: kaufman@gmu90x.UUCP (Ken Kaufman) Organization: George Mason University, Fairfax, Va. Status: O In article <42987@bu-cs.BU.EDU> austin@bucsf.bu.edu (Austin Ziegler) writes: >I'm putting down my dollar bill, I had best make my toast." > "To family." He then throws it into the fireplace in a fit of >passion and the mug shatters noisily. "Let me explain." > "For the first time in my life, all 18 years of it, I'm not going >to be able to join my family for Thanksgiving. Up until now, I have not >been scared about being away from home. Now, however, the reality of how >far away I really am strikes hard. I hate this. I am going to spend this >upcoming weekend with a family that I know nothing more than they are my >Dad's cousins. So, I feel very out of place. It will not be the same >without my family. I feel glad for everyone who can make it home over >Thanksgiving Weekend. To you, I say 'feel compassionate for those of us >who cannot go home.'" > He turns, "I am not easily scared or worried. But now, I am both. The somewhat intoxicated redhead a few seats down looks up. "At least you've got one - a family, that is. No, I've got one too, but we're all so different from one another, and the magic isn't quite there the way it was when I was your age. Wait till you try being single and on your own and 28. Then you'll know what living day-to-day without family is like. But another consideration - this place is full of family, and so is the rest of the planet. Relish the experience of meeting a few more. And if Thursday's difficult, it's only one day. Enjoy! And don't forget to have the biggest turkey of a pun at the dinner table. To a good Thursday!" Ken "Going to the family for a week" Kaufman Kaufman@gmu90x.gmu.edu From karl@haddock.ima.isc.com Wed Nov 22 17:09:24 1989 From: karl@haddock.ima.isc.com (Karl Heuer) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Introduction Date: 20 Nov 89 05:28:42 GMT Reply-To: karl@haddock.ima.isc.com (Karl Heuer) Distribution: alt Organization: Interactive Systems, Cambridge, MA 02138-5302 Status: O The door, which was not quite latched, opens a bit and a teddy bear enters, sitting on a roller skate. The skate seems to be powered by a horseshoe magnet attached to the front with a piece of chewing gum. It rolls over to a convenient iron object--in this case the poker at the fireplace--as if it had never heard of the inverse-square law. The teddy bear dismounts, scoots over to a chair, climbs it without leaving any claw marks, and sits perched on the backrest. He is just over six inches tall, and looks as though he's had the stuffing beat out of him more than once. He's wearing a blue and white outfit with the name "Willy" on the back. "I'd like a large milk," says the bear. "My master will pay for it when he arrives." His voice is high and squeaky, and he lisps his R's slightly, giving you the feeling that you're talking with Tweety Bird. His intonation suggests that his master doesn't know about this debt yet, but he doesn't seem at all worried that it may not be approved. Callahan, of course, acts as if ambulatory stuffed animals were an everyday occurrence. The milk arrives in a mug larger than its owner, but Mike has thoughtfully provided a long straw. Willy takes a sip. "He said he was going to stop by after he got some work done, so I left him a note saying I'd meet him here. I don't know if he meant his job, or the stack of dishes that are still in the sink from last week's party. But he did finally get the laundry done." He giggles. "I'm not supposed to tell about the laundry. Karl threatened to cut off my allowance if I did. Ooh, look at the horsy!" The unicorn looks slightly offended at this last comment. "I once asked Karl if he'd buy me a pony, but he offered me a cookie instead, so I said okay. Do you have any cookies here? How about a mint? Can someone scratch my back?" His attention span seems to be as short as he is. As he reaches the point where the straw no longer reaches the surface, he tips the mug on its side to get the last of the milk, somehow managing to avoid getting soaked in the process. "I guess I won't make a toast, at least not until Karl gets here. Hi, mind if I join you?" Without waiting for an answer he leaps to a nearby table, demonstrating as little regard for gravity as he had for magnetism. He lands on all fours and listens to the tail end of a discussion of personas. "Am I just a persona of Karl's? I prefer to believe I have independent existence. We disagree on a lot of issues. There have been several occasions where I've told a joke and surprised him with the punch line, and that shouldn't be possible if we were really the same person. Hey," he suddenly realizes, "I don't *get* an allowance." After a few seconds he manages to pick up his previous train of thought. "Besides, he does have a catalog of real personas, and I'm not one of them. Maybe he'll wear one when he comes over. Ouch, I got a sliver in my paw. Could someone pull it out? Thank you! Now I give you three wishes!"