Path: mit-eddie!rutgers!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!pt.cs.cmu.edu!andrew.cmu.edu!ap1i+ From: ap1i+@andrew.cmu.edu (Andrew C. Plotkin) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Horsemen... Message-ID: Date: 16 Mar 90 03:44:15 GMT References: <9003151641.AA05600@fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM> Organization: Class of '92, Carnegie Mellon, Pittsburgh, PA Lines: 27 In-Reply-To: <9003151641.AA05600@fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM> > Excerpts from netnews.alt.callahans: 16-Mar-90 Horsemen... Jane Beckman > x4030@fsdcu (1574) > "I ssssupposssee..." says the Rider, and Nick heaps fuzzies on each > horse. > "Thanks!" he says, and the riders turn and head out. > Mike Callahan rolls his eyes. "I'm not sure I want to even contemplate > what you just did!" Nick, I don't know about you, but I do *not* want Famine or Plague to feel warm and welcome in my company. We meat people have to worry about these things, you know...! (Zarf turns to go back into his corner, then suddenly gets an abstracted look on his face.) Hm. Um.... You know, maybe it wasn't such a bad idea. Those four *do* have a job to do, and it's a pretty dirty job. I've not considered how -they- must feel about it.(*) A fuzzy or two could do some good. --Z (* I'm lying. I've read _On a Pale Horse_ as well as _Magic's Promise_. (Maybe Zarf hasn't.)) Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!pt.cs.cmu.edu!andrew.cmu.edu!+ From: thyst@rush.cc.cmu.edu (Jeffrey Alexander) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Cynic's rantings Message-ID: <9003160615.AA04948@rush.cc.cmu.edu> Date: 16 Mar 90 06:15:59 GMT Organization: Carnegie Mellon, Pittsburgh, PA Lines: 110 The door opens, and through the crack flies a hopefully familiar-looking raven. It flaps immediately to the top of the door, not repeating its earlier mistake of coming in low and having to steeply bank to avoid the closer chairs. On the bird's breast is an amulet of sorts, of some silvery metal inset with a purple stone, fastened with fine chain above and below each wing. Immediately after enters the human last seen with the avian, in simple dark gray lightweight pants and a violet-ish short-sleeve shirt. Those perceptive enough as he walks past notice a ring on his right hand that resembles the amulet. The bird hops to his shoulder as he closes the door. "Something that will take me awhile, Mike. A black russian this time." The boy pays a dollar and takes the drink Mike offers, grimacing even before taking the first sip. Then he notices two figures stride towards the exit. The bird lifts from his shoulder and glides around the two, scrambling for a grip on the door's handle and cawing back at them second-handedly. "Jilara--" the boy says, and she turns from escorting the Cynic outside. "--ma'am," he adds, to show respect to a fairly new acquaintance, "can you stay for another minute? I have something to say in response to the Cynic's 'ravings'." Jilara's face has a "make it short" look on it, but she pauses. The new visitor sips his drink, giving himself time to summarize, and his raven time to perch on a rafter. "There is little I have to directly address to you, Cynic, that hasn't already been said by someone else here. One could almost, *almost* say 'I-told-you-so', at least as far as the amount of responses is concerned. And even I could see the large number of 'Well, *I'm* certainly not asking you to leave' replies coming from a mile away." The speaking figure turns then to address the entire Callahan's audience. "So here are how my thoughts resonate with the Cynic's. For one, a new topic has been brought to the top of my mind -- one that has been irking me for quite some time. That topic is the use of labels. Buzzwords. Things like 'soulmate', 'empath', 'cynic'. 'Love'. Do you or don't you? Are you or aren't you? Have you or haven't you? Yes/No. On/Off. 1/0." He takes a sip, then holds up his hands. "Now I'm not asking for definitions here. This kind of self-imposed binary outlook is probably what gave Cynic the impression of 'exclusive groups' existing in here. Labelling people will make things simpler, and creating labels for groupings that aren't known to the general populace is tempting, but you'll be losing information, and definitions are always subjective." Another sip, and a glance at George Quickpaw's owner. "Making one big area called 'miscellaneous' and having everyone uncatagorizable plant their flags there -- uh-uhn. Same thing. "But now, what I think about the current subjects. I am glad to hear of the newfound relationships that have come into being in and around this place. Jilara, Alaric: it seems there is little I can say that will affect your destiny. You appear to be two highly self-willed individuals. Be happy, for once. Joelle, Taldin: it seems there is little I can say that will affect your happiness. I am sorry we did not speak more while you were here at CMU -- I was in one of my irrational, non-conversational moods. The fault (and the loss, I am certain) are entirely my own, and I hope to be less stupid the next time I have a chance to meet you. But back to moods, and emotions..." Another sip. "Without going into too much personal history, just let me say that my background has left me with a bias on the issue of whether anger is good or bad. Not hate, mind you, but anger, even violent, raging anger, I personally can tolerate unphased, as long as it is not outwardly directed, and is controlled to a point where self-harm won't occur. Physiologically, at least, ALL emotions are violent -- pity, jealousy, bliss, rage...they all cause drastic internal changes. Too often, though, these imbalances lopside people because they are afraid to *sincerely* express their emotions. Who do you think benefits more, the person who cusses a blue streak by rote when trying to repair a difficult office air conditioner, or the person who shouts a few choice words with blatant sincerity? Yet which of the two would upset you more? I ask you all: don't be afraid of something as normal as your own fear. The speaker pauses, running through the thoughts in his head, then smiling suddenly and turning back to the customers, only to let his gaze fall to his feet. "Love. Really, this is *hardly* a new topic of discussion! Through all the Ages -- anyway, the first girl I ever had a 'thing' for... well, we went places together, but not very often. We talked a bit, but not much. Basically, I was completely unprepared. The entire relationship was her idea anyway -- I was simply following through, and very poorly. She knew I was having self-esteem problems with my schoolwork, and told me one night she hoped for my own success and happiness more than she did her own. I wept as I told her, quite honestly, I couldn't say the same thing to her in return." A long sip then. "Afterwards, I did some thinking. And the only conclusion I've been able to come to, then or since, is that THE WHOLE THING DOESN'T MAKE ONE *DAMN* BIT OF SENSE! This entire 'soulmate/intimate companion' thing, and the need for it many people feel, simply _doesn't_add_up_ . But I'm under the impression that it's the Way Things Are, created by the same forces that spawned death and taxes. I'm prepared (if unwilling), I think, to live with this, and as I see things, there are two solutions. One is what the Cynic has done -- attempt to eliminate the need for close companionship. Become entirely self-sufficient and self-contained, physically and emotionally. It is an attractively efficient solution, and looks great on paper. But it goes against the grain of human nature, and an even bigger caveat is the fact that, if it should ever fail, the longer it's been in effect, the more devastating the side effects will be." A sip. "But, in my mind, at least, this course is just as viable as the one being espoused by so many others in this place, and if you are sure, and I mean SURE, you can do it, then by all means try. Just remember you're betting against the House. "I only lasted five years, and it HURT coming back out." The figure falls quiet and stares at something too far back to be within the bar, rather like a deer watching the approach of a pair of headlights. Then his attention snaps back to the present, and his now-empty glass. He walks back to the bar as Jilara turns and leaves with the Cynic. He places the empty on the countertop and takes his change from the cigar box. Quandary hops down to his shoulder as he passes the rafter the bird has watched from, and the two take their leave. +--\ __ /--------------------------+----------------------------------+ | \/ \/ thyst@rush.cc.cmu.edu | "The point of the journey | | < <> > (ja1r@andrew.cmu.edu) |___Is not to arrive."_____________| | \__/ | I prefer to remain anomalous." | +------------------------------------+----------------------------------+ Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!brutus.cs.uiuc.edu!apple!arc!sarc!arc.uucp From: steve@arc.uucp (Steve Savitzky) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: cynics, singles, and social skills Message-ID: <854@sarc.UUCP> Date: 16 Mar 90 19:26:37 GMT Sender: news@sarc.UUCP Reply-To: steve@arc.uucp (Steve Savitzky) Distribution: alt Organization: Advansoft Research Corp, Santa Clara, CA Lines: 26 The medium-sized teddybear pops in, and makes a slightly sloppy transformation to Steve, who puts a single on the bar. "Better make it coffee, Mike -- I'm about to take off to lunch. "Anyway, OF COURSE this is a singles bar -- what do you think we pay for our drinks with? On the other hand, I haven't been single myself for years, thank you. Just because a few people have met friends/lovers/soulmates/whatever here doesn't make that the primary purpose of the Place. "And by the way, there are big advantages to a virtual bar for those of us (like me) who express themselves better in print than in person. "Oh yes, I just figured out how this places manages to have so many corners -- it's a fractal. A snowflake curve, maybe." Steve sketches an equilateral triangle in the air with his finger, which leaves a glowing trail. He gestures, and a triangular bump appears on each side, creating a six-pointed star. It happens again. Eventually the resulting curve is "all corners". "Something like that... To Corners -- there's one here for everyone who wants one!" He throws the coffeecup through the glowing shape and in the general direction of the fireplace; it has become a very oddly- shaped object indeed by the time it lands. He then steps through the curve himself, and disappears. Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!yale!cs.utexas.edu!samsung!uunet!shelby!lindy!news From: GE.LJB@forsythe.stanford.edu (Louis J Bookbinder) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: another long rambling monologue Message-ID: <8532@lindy.Stanford.EDU> Date: 16 Mar 90 20:01:46 GMT Sender: news@lindy.Stanford.EDU (News Service) Lines: 133 Clank Nick Chopper clanks back in with a large load of firewood. No more warm fuzzies except the purple fluff poking out from under his funnel-cap. He is startled by the loud applause from the patrons. "Hunh?" Jilara calls from the corner where she and Alaric are carefully weaving alternate futures: "The four Horsemen, Nick, the Horsemen! How'd you do it!?" Nick looks at her oddly. "I did? I... OH! Yes, well, uh,..... yes, I did, didn't I? Well, I remember reading somewhere that the ultimate joke is that the greatest fool can spit in the face of death and laugh at his own distruction." He pauses a moment while re-lighting the fire. "Nahh, I just made that up. I had all these warm fuzzies, see, and there were these 4 horses about to add shit to broken glass and I added 2 plus two and got 69 and there you go!" The flames begin to grow and several sighs are heard for the return of the warmth of the hearth. "No, really, I don't know why - something made me do it and I'm glad if it saved someone from an untimely demise. Cynic? Did anyone wish him ill? I don't know. I'm not usually much for grand gestures, especially when concert pianos are so heavy. Cynic didn't make me angry - he made me sad. Cynic is the personification of part of me, too. This aint OZ, folks. This is the most realistic fantasy I've ever been in. Or fantastic reality. I'm not saying this well. "Look," he pauses as he grabs the broom and starts sweeping more glass, "I still am pretty bad at this warm fuzzy business. I'm in many ways much less mature and wise in the ways of the heart.." he looks down at his own metal chest where a small, neatly patched hole has evidence "than most of you - even those less than half my age." He turns to Chris Phoenix "Thanx, Chris - your wisdom always makes me think - makes me grow" "You loudmouths got me stuck in philosophy, darnit! Shoot, I don't even have the fancy words you folks do. I look at the past 2 days of postings and it gets me all messed up inside. Empathy! I still don't know what it is. I don't even believe it. The four horsemen are the antithesis of empathy - they are the consequences of not sharing. THATS IT! THE TIE-IN TO THIS PLACE! SHARED JOY AND PAIN! The point of us is not the JOY or the PAIN, it is the SHARING! If those damnably selfish horsemen ever come back in here again, I'm going to dump a TRUCKLOAD of fuzzies on them, not an armful! "Hey - you know what happened after they rode out? The horses started to swell! Normally such emaciated beasts! They started to get silly! They started chasing each other around! The last I saw, they were running machine cycles in an infinite loop toward a full hexidecimal expansion of pi! I think they will be back, but for a moment, the fuzzies you gave me knocked apocalypse through a loop! Thanx! "Ok, this fire is going good and the glass is mostly up, I got more to say! Mike, how much do you owe me?" "$63.75 at minimum wage" "Will it cover drinks for all those willing to listen?" "For a while" "Thanx. Drink up, all. Cynic, I want you to stay. I get unrealistic at times and need something to sober me. No more bombs, OK? Another warm fuzzy for you. "Thanx Austin - nice to see you back." "Eric, We ALL fear the future. Well we should. Those horsemen aren't gone from this world by any stretch of the imagination! BUT... remember that the future will come, NO MATTER WHAT. You can only accept that and plan and move ahead, or you can quit. Quitting isn't nicer or easier, just more deadly. Change is difficult, always. You will have to live with that but I'm sure you will make it. "Hey, when I was about to turn 30 (a LOOOOOOONG time ago), I said to myself - this is a turning point - either I can go with the flow or resist it. So I decided to change, because I wanted to LIVE and life IS change. I decided to change something basic. I know this will sound silly, but I shaved off my moustache (on a tin face?). Really. At my Life-Begins-At-30 birthday party, in front of about 30 guests, I shaved off my moustache of about 8 years. Totally changed my outward personality and a bit of inward, too. So I swore to myself that at 40 I would do the same. "Life DID change - I married, I changed jobs about 5 times, I moved all over California, I lost money, earned money, joined causes, quit causes, and enjoyed myself immensely. Along came 40. What now? Right down to the wire I didn't know - and then realized I had done it already! I had taken up running the year before to lose weight and it changed my life! Now 50 looms in 4 years. I haven't yet decided. Any suggestions." "Darn, this is getting long. Lonliness. I agree, Caprice. That is the hardest thing I ever had to deal with. Losing a job was nothing compared to losing my love. Sharing a life with someone is immensely hard work but beats the hell out of going it alone. If you want to toast with the drink I just bought you, toast to lonliness - it sure makes you appreciate your friends! "Fulfillment is a cute word. What do you do with your life? I worried about that all through my stint in the service. I worried about it thru grad school. I worried about it through several jobs and two marriages. Then I gave up worrying because I was failing to fulfill my life, started instead to do things that made me feel good and by Ozma I no longer have TIME to worry! Me and Alfred E Newman! A note to those of you like Chris Phoenix and Diana and too many names to mention - you groan about too much work - don't you EVER, COMPLAIN, ABOUT, BOREDOM! Over-work beats out boredom HANDS DOWN. "Thanx, Baba, for the words - penance and servitude. I never thought of this as servitude." he brushes up more glass, "but I felt really bad about my flame and besides, it was a good way to keep in the middle of things. Besides, I can take the heat" - he sticks a metal foot into the crackling flames, without effect. "And finally, Silverback, thanx for your contributions - I know you are down because of your job, and still you spread cheer - I know Eric appreciates it. Your courage makes me deliciously happy. "Jilara, I can feel this fancy heart beating harder with thought of finally meeting you in realspace. Milady, you have added a great deal to my life. "Nao, I love your name. Where is Swarthmore?" "Anything left on my tab, Mike" "Don't worry about it, Nick, You've still got a place here, regardless" "Thanx!" Clank, clank. slam. Nick Chopper - my opinion? dont ax! LB>- GE.LJB@Forsythe.stanford.edu Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!usc!ucsd!ucbvax!fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM!jane From: jane@fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM (Jane Beckman x4030) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Alaric drops in Message-ID: <9003161206.AA13922@fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM> Date: 16 Mar 90 20:06:46 GMT Sender: daemon@ucbvax.BERKELEY.EDU Lines: 78 ...Or actually, rides into the parking lot on a dark, smoky grey stallion. He has a brief conversation with the horse before stepping into the Place, the door standing open on this warm spring day (well, it's warm _here_, anyway!) and walking over to the usual table. This being the day it is, he's dressed a little differently than usual; instead of the cloak and black armor, he's wearing a great-kilt of greyish plaid and a leine (add the conventional trimmings), and the usual black greatsword across his back is replaced by a claymore. He stops off at the bar on his way, dumping a handful of gold coins upon the bar, where they metamorphose into a sheaf of singles. "All the B's, Mike," he says; "two brandies, two Baileys', and two Blessings. And a tray..." He takes the order over to the table where Jilara sits, and sets one of each in front of her, then picks up his Baileys and makes a broad gesture across most of the Place. "Slainte!" The Baileys is consumed, and the glass joins the rest in the fireplace. "While I'm here," he says, "let me catch up on a few back comments... though first," gesturing towards the corner in which Shadow's faint form lurks, "perhaps I might be of some slight assistance..." A few odd, weaving motions of his fingers, and the shadows of that corner knot and curdle and gather themselves around Shadow somewhat, adding a little extra solidity to his form. "I happen to have, ah, certain abilities in that regard," he explains with a smile. He looks around, spying Taldin and Joelle... "Ah, there you are." He picks up the brandy. "My congratulations, and best wishes for the both of you." A salute with the glass, which seems once again to have transformed itself into a silver goblet. "By the way, Joelle, I know what you mean when you speak of people `flaunting' happiness... I used to feel exactly the same way. I have said upon many occasions in the past that a room full of happy people can be the loneliest place on earth to one who is there alone. But you shouldn't worry about giving offence... remember that _anyone_ who is sufficiently determined to do so can take offence where none is given. It doesn't mean that you are to blame for anything. To quote a good friend, a Seeker of the Way of the Sword, Jerrin by name: A student came before the Master and knelt down before him, and said, `Master, my family is poor; I apologize for being unable to bring you a gift as is fitting.' `Then lay it down,' the Master replied. `But how can I lay down what I do not have?' the student asked. `Then continue to bear it with you,' the Master replied with a shrug. The student thought on this for some time, and thereby was enlightened. "Oh, and Austin - welcome back. But you said that `Empaths aren't'? Not so. Do not confuse empathy and perceptiveness. The two are not the same, and do not necessarily go hand in hand. I consider myself frequently lacking in perception... conversely, I know many people who are highly perceptive, but whom I would not call empaths. The important thing - the essence, one might say - of empathy is not to _see_, but to _understand_. "Karl - your toast about the power of ignorance rings true... Have you ever really looked at gargoyles? They're a good case in point. With their stony metabolism, they average about 600 kilos, and with their ridiculously tiny wing area they can't possibly fly. However, gargoyles don't know this, and happily fly anyway. "Oh, and about shirts... I have a suggestion - if anyone wishing to appear on a shirt could provide a drawing of their persona, the drawings could be assembled into a collage to go on a shirt along with whatever else people decide they want there. Just a thought..." He sits down and takes a sip from the Blessing, as little dark forms detach themselves from the shadows and go scampering and flittering about among the rafters and dark corners of the room, occasionally darting by just barely out of the green tiger's reach... ---------------------------------------------------- Alaric, alive and well (and still the Renaissance Man). Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!usc!ucsd!ucbvax!agate!garnet.berkeley.edu!stanzi From: stanzi@garnet.berkeley.edu (Stanzi Royden) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: A newcomer's 2 cents worth Message-ID: <1990Mar16.214421.2418@agate.berkeley.edu> Date: 16 Mar 90 21:44:21 GMT Sender: usenet@agate.berkeley.edu (USENET Administrator;;;;ZU44) Reply-To: stanzi@garnet.berkeley.edu (Stanzi Royden) Distribution: alt Organization: University of California, Berkeley Lines: 57 A short, brown-haired, brown-eyed, *very* pregnant woman waddles up to the bar and puts down a dollar bill. "I'd love a glass of wine, but that will have to wait a few more weeks", she says while patting her very large abdomen. "Give me a tall, cool glass of milk." Taking up the glass, she turns to the group and says, "Hi. I'm new here to Callahans and fairly new to the net itself. I hope you will put up with my bumbling as I try to get used to posting, etc. "I've been hanging around recently, listening in, and I thought it was only fair that I introduce myself if I'm going to listen to all this personal stuff. My name is Stanzi (Pronounced 'Stency'). Most of you already know my other half--Robin" (She turns turns toward a nearby table where an astonished Robin is staring with a grin on his face. "Hi honey. Bet you never thought I'd get up the courage to speak up here :-)") "Robin introduced me to Callahans, and he was absolutely right--You are an incredible group of people. I hope you don't mind if I hang around for a while." She turns to the cynic and looks at him with sympathy and concern. "After reading the last few days of postings, I just want you to know that my heart goes out to you and that I hope your pain and loneliness will ease (It looks like you're in the right place to help you out with that)". She then turns to Eric, who is steadily acquiring a larger and larger group of friends around his table. "I am well acquainted with fear of an unknown and uncertain future. I've made many transitions--from undergraduate to graduate school, from graduate school to post-doc'ing (with a major change in fields included), and coming up soon probably one of the scariest transitions from non-parent to parent. On top of that, due to the quirks of the medical training system, Robin and I don't know what city we'll be living in four months from now. One thing that I've found very helpful with career decisions is the knowledge that they are not necessarily permanent. You make the best decision you can at the time and if it doesn't work out and you decide to do something else--You can change! I've changed fields at least three times (from Electrical Engineering to Neurophysiology as and undergrad, from neurophys to molecular neurobiology as a grad student, and from that to computational modeling and psychophysics as a post-doc). It's not always easy, and it's usually scary, but it's possible. It's taken me a long time to figure out what I really want to do, but after my winding path, I'm definitely closing in on it :-). Good luck with your search--I hope you find something you enjoy." She then timidly steps up to chalk line in front of the fire-place. "As for the rest of you--I have been truly impressed by what I have heard since entering the bar. You are an extremely sensitive and caring group, and I'm happy to have the chance to meet you. "To you, the people of Callahans!" She hurls her glass into the fireplace with surprising fervor. Stepping back she looks around sheepishly and grins. "I've always wanted to do that." With that she retires back to her corner, stopping to give Robin a kiss as she passes by. Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!yale!cs.utexas.edu!swrinde!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!brutus.cs.uiuc.edu!psuvax1!psuvm!jls139 From: JLS139@psuvm.psu.edu (Abaddon) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Cynic; languages; and T-shirts? Message-ID: <90075.154652JLS139@psuvm.psu.edu> Date: 16 Mar 90 20:46:52 GMT References: <90074.121240JLS139@psuvm.psu.edu> <1990Mar16.161046.11619@granite.cr.bull.com> Organization: Penn State University Lines: 16 mandel@granite.cr.bull.com (Mark Mandel) says: > (Abaddon) writes: >> "Pochyemu zdyec nyekatori iz nix govorit po yaziki?" :-) > >(Silverblack checks a reference, then replies:) Ya izuchal russkomu >yazyku na sr'ednii shkole... but I don't remember that much of it. > Ochen khorosho. Vasha transliteratsiya lucha chem maya. Mne bylo nuzhen stavut' zapic' bez oshibki. Mhe luchshe picat' c russkymi bukbami. >>...jeff stine......Abaddon... > ^^^^^^^ >The angel of the abyss?? Or do you just consider yourself a son of abyss? >-- }:-) Let's just say that I consider it home }:-) -Abaddon. Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!swrinde!cs.utexas.edu!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!shawnee.cis.ohio-state.edu!gaynor From: gaynor@shawnee.cis.ohio-state.edu (Taoist) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: An entry? That's what they're called, right? Message-ID: <78274@tut.cis.ohio-state.edu> Date: 16 Mar 90 22:59:34 GMT Sender: news@tut.cis.ohio-state.edu Reply-To: Taoist Distribution: alt Organization: Ohio State University Computer and Information Science Lines: 48 "My, there's a lot of commotion over there," the Taoist says to no one in particular, peering through the bits and bytes of the Internet. An eyebrow raises. "What was that?!? Hmmm... best go and take a look." The Taoist grabs his coffee cup, drains it, and tosses it into the battered rucksack at his feet. A paper bag follows it, with the aroma of coffee beans. A few books, some paper... "Now where did I put my pen?" raising his hand to scratch his head in puzzlement, he encounters the pen tucked behind his ear. "A-ha!" The pen follows, and the rucksack is tossed over a shoulder. As he begins his long walk, the amazing occurences before him never cease to, well, amaze him. A blue unicorn prancing about with a woman on his back. A pickup truck that seems to fade in and out. Here a raven darts swiftly into the building that is beginning to become visible. All manners of beings and occurencces. And the sound of shattering glass! For a moment, the Taoist sees an angry man standing outside the building, speaking with a woman. But they soon return inside, and a chorus of shouts comes from within. "Hm?" The Taoist stops. He's almost to the building, and can make out a wooden sign, upon which is painted, "Callahan's". But something made a sound. Something on the ground. "Oh, there you are!" He bends down and picks up a small fuzzy object. It's warm to the touch, and purrs as he holds it. "Now, what would you be? You wouldn't happen to belong to that place over there, would you?" The fuzzy doesn't respond, other than purring even more so. "Then it looks like you're coming with me..." The Taoist continues, and reaches the door. Pushing it open, he walks in, and holding the fuzzy gently before him, clears his throat... "Nobody lost this, did they?" -=- | Jim Gaynor -- The Ohio State University IRCC -- gaynor@cis.ohio-state.edu | | "If one is right while the other is wrong, and the other is right while the | | one is wrong, then the best thing to do is to look beyond right and wrong."| | -Chuang Tsu, "Inner Chapters: The Equality of All Things"| Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!pt.cs.cmu.edu!ELROND.GANDALF.CS.CMU.EDU!rgs From: rgs@ELROND.GANDALF.CS.CMU.EDU (Robert Stockton) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: The Cynic rants raves and rages Message-ID: <8456@pt.cs.cmu.edu> Date: 16 Mar 90 20:17:23 GMT References: <9060039@hpfcso.HP.COM> Organization: Carnegie-Mellon University, CS/RI Lines: 28 Cynic - I appreciated the apology which preceded your (*ahem*) discourse. However, I also found it worth listening to what you had to say. No further apologies were needed (in my opinion at least). Callahan's is a place for people to say what they think, and a bit of honest anger shouldn't destroy us. (Mind you, I don't agree with much of what you say, but that's all the more reason to discuss it.) Everyone else - It's probably better to worry about how you respond to inflammatory messages than to try to prevent them. We're here to listen, and there are some things that can only be said in a shout. It's petty bickering, not sincere disagreement, that tends to drag down most groups. back to Cynic - Okay, so you've given up on *HAPPINESS*. Try settling for contentment. You may not have a soulmate (I don't really like that word), but it sounds to me as if you've made a fair number of friends. You may not have physically met most of them, but it looks like you're stuck with them anyway. So why not sit back down, have a drink with some friends, and see if you can't have a good time with what you've got. (OK, maybe it sounds trite, but it's what works for me.) So while, I'm being trite, here's a toast - "To friends, to caring, and to Callahans (is there a difference?)" As for the grenade - I enjoyed it, but I think you're on the wrong track. Give 'em a tribble instead, or (if you're feeling really nasty) Wesley Crusher. Robert Stockton (No persona -- just me) rgs@cs.cmu.edu Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!usc!cs.utexas.edu!mailrus!news-server.csri.toronto.edu!utgpu!watserv1!watmath!att!cbnewsh!wcs From: wcs@cbnewsh.ATT.COM (Bill Stewart 201-949-0705 erebus.att.com!wcs) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Careful with that Axe, Nick! and a departure Message-ID: <8974@cbnewsh.ATT.COM> Date: 16 Mar 90 18:25:15 GMT Reply-To: wcs@cbnewsh.ATT.COM (Bill Stewart 201-949-0705 erebus.att.com!wcs) Organization: It's the stuff that dreams are made of, and we're just thrilled to be a part of it all. Lines: 35 The monk gets up from his seat by the fire, and walks over to the bar. He's been watching the storms go by, of joy and pain and anger and really terrible puns. He skritches the tiger's tail as he pushes it out of the way. With the first tankard, he makes a toast to the friends in the bar, and especially to the Exile, who has added a lot of warmth to the place. "I've been meaning to say a few things, both the serious stuff and the silliness, which often opens the way for caring as well as having value in its own right. But I've got to vanish for a week or two; the boss suddenly needs to find out how many angels can dance with a pinhead, and I'm on point, so I'll just say a few of them now. Maya, it's often hard to know what you want, and to find satisfaction in the mundane. Try some of those warm fuzzies in with your hot chocolate; the warmth can make a lot of difference even if you're not sure where that hotter fire is. I drank with your "not caring" toast, but this one's to "caring". He tosses the second tankard, half-emptied*, toward the fireplace. It misses, as usual, and lands by his habitual chair; he'll be back for it. But the fire flares up, for the liquid was stronger than his usual ale. One of the cats stirs. * or was it half-full? Or was the tankard twice as big as it should have been? He turns around on his way out the door. "Oh, Nick - be careful with that chopper. One of the taller patrons of this joint walked by it the other night and I wasn't sure if he would have some Axe Headroom." Mumbling apologetically about how it must have been the roses, the electric monk slips out the door. -- # Bill Stewart AT&T Bell Labs 4M312 Holmdel NJ 201-949-0705 erebus.att.com!wcs # Fax 949-4876. Sometimes found at Somerset 201-271-4712 # Pay LOTS of attention to that man behind the curtain!