Path: mit-eddie!mit-amt!snorkelwacker!think!yale!cs.utexas.edu!usc!brutus.cs.uiuc.edu!psuvax1!husc6!m2c!wpi!cmoir From: cmoir@wpi.wpi.edu (C-More) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: a new arrival... (repost) Message-ID: <9729@wpi.wpi.edu> Date: 16 Mar 90 09:11:16 GMT Organization: W.P.I. Office of Higher Insanity Lines: 108 ---------- I apologize if this is the second time any of you see this. I have been told by some it didn't reach their site, so I am reposting this to see if that solves the problem... ---------- A man enters the bar, looking incongruously imposing yet unimposing. About 6'2, brown hair interspersed here and there with a bit of red (betraying a Scottish heritage), and grey-emerald eyes that somehow seem to draw you in if you look too deeply... He appears to be somewhere in his mid-twenties. He's wearing a deep blue pair of pleated pants, and a grey sweatshirt with "WPI" stenciled in maroon on the front. On a chain around his neck is a silver unicorn pendant. He saunters up to the bar, fumbling for his wallet. "A spiked apple juice, if you please, Mike..." he says, slapping a dollar on the bar. He seems to look as if he wonders if he did it right. Grabbing the drink, he moves to the chalk line. "Hello, wonderful and wondrous people. Being new here, I still don't know what's right and wrong to do here. But being an adventurous sort, I'm willing to at least give it a try... Turning to Taldin and his Lady, he says "First off, I'd like to congratulate my dear friend on finding a soulmate. I knew he would. And Joelle, I'm certain you won't be disappointed. I hope to get to know you better in the future... "Oh, while I'm at it..." (the stranger fumbles in his pocket, finally finding what he's looking for. He takes a small brown cube, tosses it to Taldin, who deftly catches it.) "As a congratulatory gift, have a caramel, 'corn." Not knowing enough about the bar, he is hit by the few peanuts he finds thrown at him. He looks around, smiling. "Yes, I suppose I should have expected that." "I suppose it's only polite that I introduce myself. Here, I shall prefer to be called SilverSinger. Why? Well, why not? I will, however, answer to just 'Silver'. "It was recommended that I start paying attention to the goings on here at Callahans by none other than Taldin, here. I'm glad he did. Even having never read any of Spider Robinson's books, I felt right at home right away. "I suppose it's a message to me from somewhere that I found a copy of _Callahan's_Lady_ that someone left behind (foolish!) in a seat in an airliner. I read it and was immediately hooked. Next time I go to the bookstore, the first three are my next purchases. "Now for the reason I'm still here, instead of fading off into the background. I have a question for you all. "Perhaps the subject has been run into the ground, but it can't be helped. I am of the school that there are *more* than one 'right one for you'. That there is more than one person with whom you would be happy throughout life with. How do I know? Friends, I have managed to find two of them at once. "I hope you don't think that sounds selfish. I really don't want it this way, but I have found two women who, in each case, thinks that I'm the most wonderful man in the world, and they would rather be with no one else. Also in each case, I feel that same strong love. But the problem is that in each case I would be happy, but I must make a choice that will make one or the other upset and, though they claim otherwise, unhappy. "What each claims (yes, they know about one another) is that I must make the choice for myself, that I should choose the one that would make me most happy. For me this is agonizing. Either would make me just as happy, and would have the side effect of hurting someone I care about deeply." Here, a sad smile. "TO LOVE!" (A loud **crash** as the mug goes crashing into the fireplace) "Sometimes it finds you twice at once." "I'd be interested to know what anyone thinks, and I'll stick around so anyone who needs to know more may ask." Here SilverSinger looks somewhat uncomfortable. "Oh. I am a bit more than I appear to be, as some of you already know..." SilverSinger undergoes an instantaneous transformation. He changes...into a unicorn. A silver one. Somewhat larger than Taldin, and with the same color mane (a midnight blue). "Well, now you know." He turns towards Taldin and Joelle. "Again, I congratulate you and give my warmest wishes for happiness." Turning back to the bar at large, "And I thank you all for your patience." With that, SilverSinger changes back into his original (and more compact) form and moves away from the chalk line, approaching Taldin and Joelle where they stand. -SilverSinger -Silver Unicorn and new Spider Robinson reader >Appropriate .sig to come, once I think of one...< Path: mit-eddie!mit-amt!snorkelwacker!think!yale!cs.utexas.edu!samsung!brutus.cs.uiuc.edu!psuvax1!husc6!m2c!wpi!cmoir From: cmoir@wpi.wpi.edu (C-More) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: A situation resolved. I guess... Message-ID: <9731@wpi.wpi.edu> Date: 16 Mar 90 09:23:18 GMT Organization: W.P.I. Office of Higher Insanity Lines: 48 SilverSinger comes from his place near the fireplace, away from MoonChile and the rest. Sorrow is upon his face, and the tracks of many tears. "Friends, I recently proposed a problem of mine. I didn't realize just how soon this problem would vanish, but it has. Though I can't say I'm particularly happy with the results. "I mentioned that I believed I had found two possible soulmates at once. Perhaps this is still the case. But one of them has decided to decrease the inner turmoil she has felt, and that she has seen in me, by removing herself from the situation. "No, she is not gone entirely. She has just backed off, happy to just be friends. At least unless the other relationship doesn't work out, and then, she said, she would welcome me back. "One thing I cannot figure out is why this does not make me happy. Surely I have not lost anything, for she has agreed to always be there for me, to always be a friend...a dear one. But still I am not satisfied. I feel something has been lost, and I fear it may never return. "I suppose in time I shall be happy with this decision that has been made for me, but for now I wallow in the depression that should better belong with an honest breakup, one of a relationship that *actually existed*. But this hurts no less. "I know that it is not the place to rant and rave. I hope I am doing neither. I am just getting this off my chest. And if someone out there a explain this to me, I would be eternally grateful. "Mike, give me a shot of whiskey. Make it Scotch. Ah, thank you." **gulp** "TO HAPPINESS!!!" >>CRASH<< "May it yet find me. Or, better, may I find it within myself." Silver leaves the chalk line, looking suddenly thoughtful, and moves back to his friends. His gait seems somewhat lighter, as if some great weight has been removed from his shoulders. Peace, SilverSinger Path: mit-eddie!rutgers!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!usenet.ins.cwru.edu!cwjcc!ncoast!allbery From: allbery@NCoast.ORG (Brandon S. Allbery) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Negativity Message-ID: <1990Mar18.223050.28813@NCoast.ORG> Date: 18 Mar 90 22:30:50 GMT References: <856@sarc.UUCP> Reply-To: allbery@ncoast.ORG (Brandon S. Allbery) Followup-To: alt.callahans Organization: North Coast Public Access UN*X, Cleveland, OH Lines: 26 As quoted from <856@sarc.UUCP> by steve@arc.UUCP (Steve Savitzky): +--------------- | "The point is, these negative attitudes and emotions are not only | perfectly normal; sometimes they're actually useful. The trick is to | find ways of expressing them that at least don't hurt anybody, and at | best are helpful. +--------------- Yes. I've found that I can turn anger and sadness into creative energies. (Not that I always do; I am imperfect, but I still strive for it.) +--------------- | wiped out. Even when you hate a person, sometimes this is because of | something about that person that you can try to change (called "hating | the sin but loving the sinner" -- the opposite phenomenon was the +--------------- This may be whi I can't claim to feel "hate"; I don't get angry at people, but I may get angry at what they *do*. I know the difference, somewhere inside of myself. ++Brandon -- Brandon S. Allbery (human), allbery@NCoast.ORG (Inet), BALLBERY (MCI Mail) ALLBERY (Delphi), uunet!cwjcc.cwru.edu!ncoast!allbery (UUCP), B.ALLBERY (GEnie) BrandonA (A-Online) ("...and a partridge in a pear tree!" ;-) Path: mit-eddie!rutgers!mcnc!shelby!csli!cphoenix From: cphoenix@csli.Stanford.EDU (Chris Phoenix) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: The Cynic rants raves and rages Message-ID: <12730@csli.Stanford.EDU> Date: 18 Mar 90 22:25:56 GMT References: <9060039@hpfcso.HP.COM> <8456@pt.cs.cmu.edu> Sender: cphoenix@csli.Stanford.EDU (Chris Phoenix) Reply-To: cphoenix@csli.stanford.edu (Chris Phoenix) Organization: Center for the Study of Language and Information, Stanford U. Lines: 14 In article <8456@pt.cs.cmu.edu> rgs@ELROND.GANDALF.CS.CMU.EDU (Robert Stockton) writes: >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. No, no, no... give them a warm fuzzy! They multiply faster than tribbles, and are a lot less destructive--and more effective! -- Chris Phoenix | "I've spent the last nine years structuring my cphoenix@csli.Stanford.EDU | life so that this couldn't happen." ...And I only kiss your shadow, I cannot see your hand, you're a stranger now unto me, lost in the dangling conversation, and the superficial sighs... Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!yale!cs.utexas.edu!uunet!wang!comm.wang.com!lws From: lws@comm.WANG.COM (Lyle Seaman) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: anachronistic visitor Keywords: Has anyone seen Thack? Message-ID: <1990Mar17.205344.18670@comm.WANG.COM> Date: 17 Mar 90 20:53:44 GMT Organization: Wang Labs, Platform Comms. Lines: 30 At Callahan's the drinks are flowing freely (but they cost a buck a pop). The hubbub of conversation shifts, breaks, pauses. There _seems_ to be a subtle thudding. On one of the rafters, a cat draws its feet underneath itself, and tenses, as if to jump. All eyes are fixed on the chalk line, where the thudding, now growing louder, is indisputably originating. All at once, with a crash, an arm appears, suspended in mid-air, first still, now flailing about, as if to grasp something. Then with a rip and a tear, another arm, quite obviously the mate of the first bursts through. Yes, through. Or at least, it certainly appears that the arm (and the first one, too, come to think of it), have been forced through a wall, right on the chalk line. Of course, there's no wall. The two long and hairy arms twist and turn, seeking purchase, and finding it, grasp hold. Slowly, a head appears, by stages, between them, precisely where one would expect. It's an odd head, not the sort usually seen at Callahan's. The hair is dishevled, the beard unkempt, the forehead receding and short. But there's something vaguely familiar about those heavy ridged eyebrows, meeting over the nose. The head looks about, suddenly frightened and disoriented. Thack!@? Where Thack??!! Not finding Thack, the visitor hastily retreats. There is a moment of surprised silence, then the murmur returns, as all about, the patrons are wondering aloud. "Who _was_ that masked man?" Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!att!dptg!pegasus!psrc From: psrc@pegasus.ATT.COM (Paul S. R. Chisholm) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Karl's contact dilemma (was Re: More Shared Joy!) Summary: may you lead an interesting life (that's meant as a blessing in this case) Message-ID: <4540@pegasus.ATT.COM> Date: 19 Mar 90 05:13:13 GMT References: <16166@haddock.ima.isc.com> Organization: AT&T Bell Laboratories Lines: 57 In article <16166@haddock.ima.isc.com>, karl@haddock.ima.isc.com (Karl Heuer) describes how he met a woman on an airplane. I wouldn't assume that she will (a) make the connection (unless you said, maybe a couple of times, that you were the editor) between the guy in the newsletter and the guy on the plane, and (b) feel comfortable enough about using that information. > "Firstly. Was I right to leave the ball in her court like that? Right? Wrong? Wrong questions, probably; life is more complicated than a series of multiple-choice questions. We live in a society where, usually, a man "makes the first move". That's true less and less these days. You may not have gotten any contact information because she didn't want you to have it . . . or because there just wasn't a good time in the conversation for it to be passed. I dunno. > "Secondly. It's not entirely true that I have only her first name. > I did note her address from her luggage, and by comparing the names > on the mailboxes there with the initials in the phone book, I found > one match. But since this information was not volunteered by her > nor requested by me, I feel I shouldn't use it. Agree? Um, probably not. Certainly don't lie about it. (This is probably irrelevant, considering your third point.) > "Thirdly. As I was preparing the March issue this last weekend, I > saw her name on one of the mailing labels, meaning she's contacted > ESNE (which automatically gets you one free copy of the newsletter > in addition to the standard information packet). There's a fair > chance that she'll be at the meeting this next weekend, and I'll see > her again. I'm scared..." There are two points here. One, you've got a bona fide reason for contacting her; but if you're interested more in asking her out than in teaching her Esperanto, be straightforward about it. "Hi! This is Karl Heuer, the guy who talked to you on the flight from Podunk to Logan International. I got your letter for the Esperanto newsletter; I was hoping you'd show up at the meeting. I liked talking with you." Two, "scared". Good and bad. Good, you're willing to put some of yourself on the line, you realize it's risky, but you realize it's worthwhile. Bad, you may be setting your expectations or wishes so high that you'll be disappointed by "just a friendship", or scare the woman off the next time (or so) you see her. Try to redirect daydreams about how you buy a house in Newton and have three kids. > --Karl (Hmm. "Next weekend" ended about fifteen minutes ago. Could you give us an update, please? Paul S. R. Chisholm, AT&T Bell Laboratories att!pegasus!psrc, psrc@pegasus.att.com, AT&T Mail !psrchisholm I'm not speaking for the company, I'm just speaking my mind. Path: mit-eddie!bu.edu!bu-pub.bu.edu!ckd From: ckd@bu-pub.bu.edu (Christopher Davis) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Lunacon '90 (the aftermath :-) Message-ID: Date: 19 Mar 90 07:24:06 GMT Sender: news@bu.edu.bu.edu Reply-To: ckd@bu-pub.bu.edu (Christopher Davis) Distribution: alt Organization: Boston University School of Management Lines: 53 Chris walks in, looking somewhat the worse for wear. "Hmm, so *that's* where the New York portal is!" he exclaims. "Too bad I can't use this place as a shortcut for travel, eh? "Yeah, I'm a bit tired. Cons'll do that to you, especially when you're crazy enough to *volunteer* to work on 'em for hours on end. But art show setup is fun, and you get first peek at the stuff... "I did get to meet Taldin, finally, as well as see some other folks I hadn't seen for a while, since either WorldCon or earlier cons. Overall, it was a pretty good weekend. Not that I didn't wind up spending far too much money, but hey...it could have been worse. I could have brought a credit card. "We had a couple execrable pun 'threads' going in the con suite at one point...including one about fish (it was all wet, and they weren't all very finny, but I'm just carping). I bought a couple books, some shirts, loads and loads of buttons...and a cassette. "What can I say? It was a cassette of funny computer filksongs. I wanted a few of the more 'famous' ones, like 'I Built A Better Model Than The One At Data General'--but they all sounded good. "I didn't know how good 'till I got home to listen to it. "You really have to hear 'em to enjoy 'em, but I'll bet some of the folks out west will get their chance sooner or later. "Y'see, our very own Steve Savitzky sings a couple of 'em, and wrote those two and another one; I'm sure that someone will convince him to sing now that I've given you all a reason.... :-)" He shakes his head. "'Babbage's Birthday Bargain Bash'? Hey, I worked retail for a while... and you're right. Sigh." "Anyway. It was a good con, and I look forward to meeting some folks up at Universicon (yes, I'm headed for that too...and possibly Readercon 3 the week after that...). "Now, to go collapse in a heap...after hanging the signed and numbered print of the cover art from _Callahan's Secret_... "Oh, my new .sig-quote's from the panel on 'Space: Where Do We Go From Here?'... when they asked *us* 'Where are we going in space?', of course, someone had to yell 'Planet 10'--and I added 'Real Soon!' to keep it lively." He wanders away, softly singing something about an 'S-100 Bus,' which most of those present assume is something that goes from Harvard Square to Packard's Corner... :-) -- Christopher Davis, BU SMG '90 <...!bu.edu!bu-pub!ckd> "Dammit, we're all going to die, let's die doing something *useful*!" --Hal Clement on comments that space exploration is dangerous Path: mit-eddie!mit-amt!straz From: straz@mit-amt.MEDIA.MIT.EDU (Steve Strassmann) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Greetings from the knight with the crunchy outer shell and a soft center Message-ID: <1916@mit-amt.MEDIA.MIT.EDU> Date: 19 Mar 90 07:13:40 GMT Organization: MIT Media Lab, Cambridge, MA Lines: 70 It seemed quiet in the room, when the door fell open - a guy in his mid twenties was still leaning on it, bent over. He was hurridly brushing some dirt off his jeans, and turned around in time to wave goodbye to the rapidly ascending rope ladder behind him. He blinked, adjusting to the scene within. He smiled nervously, trying to act casual, and walked up to the counter while fishing for a piece of paper from a pocket inside his jacket, in vain. "Um, hi! Is this, er," he scrunched up his face as if he could pull the memory out of his lower lip, "Calhoun's Chocolate Bar and Gheer Deli?" The man behind the counter stopped polishing the beer mug in his hand for just long enough to glance over the tall, dark, and handsome stranger. "No," he said in an even tone, "this is Callahan's Place. And I'm Callahan. What can I get you?" "Oh, terribly sorry, Mr. Callahan. Damned parallel universes. I was hoping this was the one place I could get a Ball of Lindt." The barkeep put the mug down. "It is," he stated simply, "Dark, I presume?" A grin spread across the stranger's face, "Oh wow, oh this is great. Yeah, extra-super-real dark and really fluffy, please." His fingers started drumming on the counter in a complex, syncopated rhythm. "And a milk chaser!" From the seat on his left, a largish woman in an even larger angora sweater slurred, "Excuse me, don't you mean a Fuzzy Navel"? A loud voice from a nearby table bellowed "Never mind her-She's kissed a few too many strong ones." The speaker put down his orange-tan cup and held out his hand. "My name's Reese, what's yours?" "Steve, pleased to meet you." They shook hands, and Steve also nodded compassionately at the slumped-over female form next to him. "Godiva come a long way for this. You wouldn't believe Suchard traffic problems... I could've sworn I had the directions right..." He started rummaging around in his pockets again, emptying their contents on the counter beside him, including: an 18th century portable Japanese calligraphy kit, a spool of monofilament and some kevlar band-aids, some crumpled bits of foil, and a palm-sized LED-studded gadget that blinked and faintly warbled. The latter projected a small holographic portrait of a beautiful young woman over the counter, perfectly framed except for the inevitable toe-blur zone. "Who's the foxy lady?" Reese pointed with his thumb. "Uh? Oh, oops, sorry. Just someone from my future. Haven't had the pleasure yet. Hmm, human this time... how odd." He fumbled a knob, but only managed to get a scratchy 3D Chinese documentary about the Loch Ness monster before turning it off crisply. It was "Ness" Lee, of course, of whom Steve wasn't particularly fond. No fondness was due. The bartender came back with a large spherical glass like a brandy snifter, filled with a gently warmed elixir of purest velvety black bittersweet chocolate, gracefully garnished with a single fresh blackberry and a mini-marshmallow. Right next to it he set down an ice-cold frothy glass of milk. Money passed hands, and the miscellaneous junk on the counter slipped back into Steve's pockets. "Mmmm, that's awfully good," the newcomer sighed. "Say, there isn't a piano in this place, is there? I play requests, y'know, if nobody minds..." ------------------------------------------------------------------- Steve Strassmann, Entertainment Scientist straz@media-lab.media.mit.edu Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!att!dptg!pegasus!psrc From: psrc@pegasus.ATT.COM (Paul S. R. Chisholm) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Metaphysics and Angst Summary: this makes you a member of the human race, not the rat race Message-ID: <4541@pegasus.ATT.COM> Date: 19 Mar 90 05:59:56 GMT References: <8505@mentor.cc.purdue.edu> Organization: AT&T Bell Laboratories Lines: 101 In article <8505@mentor.cc.purdue.edu>, gtz@mentor.cc.purdue.edu (Eric C. Garrison) writes: > "To pointlessness" (Why bother?-) > "However, I find an old problem in metaphysics bugging me: why are > we here? What is the point? Why do I bother getting up in the > morning? I just met a woman in the weight room at the Y who doesn't bother; she gets up at noon, goes to the Y, works out, and gives voice lessons in the afternoon and evening. (Sounds like how I scheduled my classes during my last year as an undergraduate.-) (BTW, it's nice being married and very monogamous; I could talk with a very healty woman and not worry about What Could Come From This Chance Encounter.) But that only postpones your problems until later in the day. So, why are we here? "To love and serve God", according to the nuns at Mt. Carmel, bless them all. (Especially Sister Francis Evelyn, who had a nervous breakdown after one year of teaching first grade, and convincing lots of us to switch to public school, thank heavens. Sorry, I'm having trouble with my digression system tonight.) I think I know how to love God; but, serve Him? Doing what, convincing lots of other people to convince lots of other people to convince lots of other people . . . you get the idea. Somebody (I think Satre or Nietzsche) wrote, "Hell is other people." And Heaven, too? I don't think either of those are true of what lies on the other side of death; but what I can make of myself, and what I can contribute to others, and the things I can do to help others, are what I make my life out of. >... > "Sure, I am dating a great girl now, and who knows what will happen > with her, but the real problem I face is this: I don't want to > graduate because I don't want to face the real world alone. I don't > see the point of going out and making money if I don't know if I > will be happy. I enjoy computers as an occupation, but I am afraid > I'll be alone and unhappy at and away from work. Let me speak to all of the college students here. Life in the Real World has fewer structured micro-environments (such as dorms and classes and frororities [saternities?]); but it's fully of people who've gotten out of the need for such things. That's not saying that you'll have no trouble making the change, but that you'll be with a lot of people who are either going through the same thing you are, or who have already figured out, to some extent, how to structure their time and their lives without classes and final exams and such. (There are some guys here who, so far as I can tell, live up to your nightmare; it's *possible*, and relatively easy, to avoid, but not trivial.) As for your current lady friend . . . I think you've got your head screwed on straight. Most of the people I know didn't meet their SO's until well after college. On the other hand, I know two couples who met in high school, and have celebrated their tenth wedding anniversaries. If you don't have something strong enough to base each other's career plans on, then I wish all the best for each of you . . . whatever that turns out to be. > "I wonder if anyone here lies awake in the middle of the night, > petrified with fear about the future like I do? Does anyone else > see the crap behind all this hype to succeed, to compete, to further > the rat race? How can anyone be totally wrapped up in getting a > good job, looking for maximum money without considering the > happiness factor? As my brother-in-law's bumper sticker says, "The one who dies with the most toys wins . . . nothing!" He considers it to be a religious statement, but sacred or secular, it's the right idea. The point of a cable hook-up and a nice color TV and VCR is so you can enjoy movies and such better . . . if that's the kind of thing you enjoy. If you like going around corners *fast*, a sports car may enrich your life. But things are just means to ends, and even if you don't have the means (or even if you do), it's important to keep your sights on the ends. You *don't* have to "look for maximum money"; that's probably the most important thing to remember as you're looking for a job. Or a lover. > "I'll step down now, but if anyone understands this at all, please > let me know." > He looks exhausted as he goes back to his table. He looks as though > he'd like someone to come over and join him, but is too shy to just > sit with anyone he'd like t get to know. Maybe you know the > feeling. Alone in a crowd, that's Eric, sometimes. Being alone in a crown can be lonely. It can also mean you keep your identity, not matter how mixed up you get with lots of other folks. To me, it means that when I'm in a crowd, I don't spend all of my time with the same sub-crowd. (So, the guy with half an ale wanders over to Eric's table and asks, "May I hang out around here awhile?") > Eric C. Garrison, ericg@ei.ecn.purdue.edu Paul S. R. Chisholm, AT&T Bell Laboratories att!pegasus!psrc, psrc@pegasus.att.com, AT&T Mail !psrchisholm I'm not speaking for the company, I'm just speaking my mind. Path: mit-eddie!rutgers!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!att!dptg!pegasus!psrc From: psrc@pegasus.ATT.COM (Paul S. R. Chisholm) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: An entry? That's what they're called, right? Summary: a fuzzy thing happened . . . Message-ID: <4542@pegasus.ATT.COM> Date: 19 Mar 90 06:08:43 GMT References: <78274@tut.cis.ohio-state.edu> Distribution: alt Organization: AT&T Bell Laboratories Lines: 17 In article <78274@tut.cis.ohio-state.edu>, gaynor@shawnee.cis.ohio-state.edu (Taoist) writes: > 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?" Warm fuzzies are like the Place itself: If you find one, you probably needed it. (If you didn't need it, you could probably use it, if only by sharing it with someone you care with.) > Jim Gaynor, gaynor@cis.ohio-state.edu Paul S. R. Chisholm, the guy with half an ale, AT&T Bell Laboratories att!pegasus!psrc, psrc@pegasus.att.com, AT&T Mail !psrchisholm I'm not speaking for the company, I'm just speaking from my heart.