Path: mit-eddie!bu.edu!lll-winken!brutus.cs.uiuc.edu!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!ucbvax!FSDCUPT.CSD.MOT.COM!jane From: jane@FSDCUPT.CSD.MOT.COM (Jane Beckman x4030) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Emotions Message-ID: <9003211805.AA03724@fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM> Date: 22 Mar 90 02:05:09 GMT Sender: daemon@ucbvax.BERKELEY.EDU Lines: 58 Jilara shakes her head, listening to a general theme that seems to be developing, over the past few days. "Emotions...oh dear, don't get me started on this topic. That's why I'm having flashbacks and mood swings, now... However, I would like to interject a few things on the topic, based on personal experience." She looks thoughtfully over at Alaric. "My friend, here, told Cynic there is nothing wrong with emotions, even pain, and I would like to second that. "You see, for years, I worked on suppressing my emotions, and got so good at it that even I believed I made Spock look positively manic. Smooth surface, unruffled... I just boxed everything up, marked it "do not open before the Apolcalypse" and tossed it into an undersea trench... "I want to make an observation. People who are afraid of their emotions because they are so strong generally have something in their background, even forgotten, that made them FEEL strong emotions. These emotions are good and right, a way of discharging stress. Even so-called "negative" stuff like anger, hate, fear, pain..." She sighs. "You see, if you suppress them, they DON'T go away. You get them back, eventually, in unexpected ways. I have violent outbursts, of the all-or-none variety. When I do, I do thing that are SCARY. Like tossing around hundred-pound chunks of granite rip-rap like they were styrofoam, or taking apart fences. Or, there's the other effect---you get MASSIVELY depressed. In some ways, violence is preferable. "But everything catches up, eventually. I've been having flashbacks for close onto three years. Not all flashbacks are memory flashbacks. Some are emotional. You suddenly find you're crying, or laughing hysterically, or having hot-and-cold flashes for no known reason. You think you're going insane. No, it's old suppressed emotions, rising to the surface like the poison festering out of an infected wound. "I realize some of you think suppressing your emotions is part of your survival. I just want to warn you that there is a cost, and it catches up with you, eventually. And believe me, it leaves you crippled in a lot of ways. You can't feel the negative stuff, but you can't feel good, either. I've been working on getting these things back, for several years, because I've realized that they're vital to life. Or at least really LIVING life. "In my case, it was probably vital to my survival, to be able to detatch and view everything from a neutral distance, as if my life were something happening to someone else. But mine was an extreme case. Most of you haven't (and hopefully, god willing, never will have to) exerienced some of the really nasty stuff I have, but just normal stress-and-strain of existance. Stay in touch with yourself, even your pain and anger, and let it loose in neutral ways. You'll do better in the long run. "A lot of us learned to suppress things when we were children. It's hard to unlearn. It's hard to remember that no one is going to punish us if we yell or stomp around. (Not AT someone, just in general.) No one is going to be upset if you primal scream in rush-hour traffic, or spend a constructive half hour throwing rocks at a tree you're imagining is your boss." She sighs. "Believe me, it's easier said than done, though. Don't wait until late in life to find your emotions. It's harder, then." ---Jilara the Exile jane%fsdcupt.csd@urbana.mcd.mot.com Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!usc!ucsd!ucsdhub!hp-sdd!hplabs!hpfcso!hpcndaw!jason%hpcndjdz.HP.COM@hpcnd From: jason@hpcndjdz.HP.COM (Jason Zions) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: A Situation resolved. I guess... Message-ID: <21780007@hpcndjdz.HP.COM> Date: 19 Mar 90 22:22:36 GMT References: Organization: HP Colorado Networks Division Lines: 100 >"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. "Silver, it sounds like you're absolutely right; something has indeed been lost, perhaps forever." Jazz shifts the sax slung over his shoulder a little. "What you lost were Options. Choices. Your life, it seems to me, had come to a cusp; a place at which you had to make a decision, a perhaps momentous one. From the little I've heard, from the tone of your voice and the words you chose, I get the sense that your feeling somewhat at a loss, and don't know what to do now that this choice has been taken from you." A sheepish look crosses his face as Jazz continues "A rather long-winded way of saying that a part of you is a little resentful that a choice for *your* life has been made by someone else. That a certain amount of control over our own destiny has been taken from you. At almost no point in life do people believe they're in control of their lives; most times, people feel more out of control than in. Yet this situation had evolved to the point where you *did* have control over it; then that control was taken away. "It's like you had planned on taking a trip, going someplace; that morning, as you were packing the car, you got a phone call telling you the trip had been cancelled. Most people tend to stop what they're doing right there; not unpack the car, not make alternate plans, not *do* anything just yet; simply sit there and let the changed world settle into focus again." Jazz stands, shifts the horn again, starts towards SilverSinger. "I really hate remote diagnoses; I can't read your mind, I can't know enough details about the situation. All I can do is try to place myself in your emotional shoes, feel the holes in the sole and the knots in the laces. But if you are feeling a little resentful over the loss of control, along with the sense of loss and at-a-loss that you plainly feel, then you may be feeling some guilt about resenting a choice made by someone you obviously love. Nay, Love, capital-ell. She did what she believed was in your best interest; how can you legitimately be upset with her for doing that?" Jazz settles into a seat across from Silver, leans a little forward. "I'm not going to tell you not to feel that way. Your feelings are yours; no one can legitimize them or tell you to avoid them. All I can do is try to point them out, reflect back to you what you tell me.If you do feel the resentment, and you do feel the guilt, then that would explain any confusion, and perhaps a part of the sadness as well." Leaning away a little, Jazz says "I wish you luck with the love you have, from whatever sources you get it. It's rare enough. If you want to tell me more, I'm easy to find; look for the balding guy with the ponytail and the saxophone on his back. I'll always listen; I'm willing to tell you what I've heard you say. I can't promise to help, but I can promise to try; I can't tell you your mind, but I can make some pretty good guesses with a little help. We don't pry here at Callahan's; but we do try to be available for those times when a shoulder would be nice." Jazz gets back out of the chair, walks to the bar, trades a single for a shot of Cardhu. As he turns back to the room, he says "Oh, yes, one or two people have mentioned that they're not really sure what empathy is; others, that empathy and perception are two different things, often confused." His voice is a little fuller; it projects clear to the back of the room, washing the corners like the surf into the hollows between jettys. "Perception is clearly seeing the shoes; holes in the soles, lumps in the laces, the lay of the last. A passive skill, perhaps, but the perceptions are best gained by active listening. "Empathy is the ability to wear the shoes you've perceived; know from the lumps and bumps just how the wearer strides, how bad the muscle pull in the left thigh was this week, just how old and how bad the torn ligament in the right knee is. The ability to ``connect the dots'' of the perceived person, construct a reasonable ``outer hull'' of the person." (That last is a graph theory term; it's the smallest possible shape that incorporates all the points inside itself. "smallest" and "possible" may change depending upon the problem.) "Some very gifted empaths can get the gestalt of a person based on few (or nearly no) perceptions. Most cannot. Many people perceive well, but aren't sufficiently careful to separate that which they perceive to be there from that which their monds fills in, the dot-connectors; they treat their intuitions about how a person ``ticks'' as they treat their perceptions about how a person behaves. The trap here is that the ``connect-the-dots'' has to happen long before all the data is in; if one is not careful to separate the dots from the lines, then adding new dots, new perceptions, can really screw up the picture." Jazz takes a pull at the scotch; the quiet sizzle of its warmth spreading down his throat can be heard 5 feet away, but the glow can be seen across the room. "Mike, that *wasn't* Cardhu. I thought that bottle looked a little older and dustier... whatever it was, thanks." The rest of the scotch disappears down the throat. "Whuf. I didn't need that, but I sure wanted it." The voice seems a little smoother, a touch deeper. Toe-ing the line, Jazz calls out "To the well-integrated perceiver/empath: May you always know your own limitations." He flips the shotglas into the fire underhanded; it bounces off a log and winds up on the point of one of the andirons, upside down over the tip, spinning a little before it stops. >Peace, >SilverSinger And the same to you, my friend. Jazz Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!usc!ucsd!ucsdhub!hp-sdd!hplabs!hpfcso!daq From: daq@hpfcso.HP.COM (Doug Quarnstrom) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Apologies Message-ID: <9060044@hpfcso.HP.COM> Date: 21 Mar 90 05:07:16 GMT Organization: Hewlett-Packard, Fort Collins, CO, USA Lines: 67 Steve H writes: >Doug, I've been standing around, drinking my Tullamore Dew (which I have >to gripe, is only available in Ireland (and some selected English >stores, like Harrads)) and listening to the flurry of events that >started with your grenade incident. >Please pardon my bluntness, but with the white hair on my head, I >believe that I am entitled to point out some things that I've noticed. >You go on beating your breast about how you are willing to leave if the >assembled multitude asks you to, and while I agree with the others that >WE won't ask someone to leave, I'm feeling rather manipulated. If you >know anything about Callahan's, you KNOW that we are a supportive and >caring bunch, and would not throw you out for your outburst. I think I do understand. In fact, if I had read my posts, I would probably have thought manipulation from the very first line. First I apologize, then I flame, then I apologize again, and say I will leave. This does seem like I was trying to evade the flack. You must understand that some of this problem is caused by the time delay of getting posts to other machines. I have already tried to make it clear that I will stay, and why. I only hope I can assure you that my original posts were not an attempt to manipulate this group, and the fact that my emotional shields are in disarray at my feet is proof to me that that is the case. It the time I posted, I was not fully rational, and I do not know exactly what response I expected. I felt bad, so I began the process to try to set things straight as soon as I could. >Many of us have been where you are, and in fact, I know that I am a >frequent visitor to that part of the mental country. Many folks have >already let you know that you are welcome to stay, and I join in. All I >ask is that you try to see where your pain is coming from, and, >realising that we aren't causing it, talk to us about where you are. We >are more than willing to provide an audience to help you vent your >frustrations and fears. All we ask is that you provide the same service >when we need it. I am making a very diligent effort to figure this out but mostly through e-mail, since the response time there is faster. Thank you for the post, and I hope I have addressed your concerns. Finally, I would like to add this. Folks, this is a little too big and personal for me to put into a public forum. There is possibly some value in debating further among yourselves, but I HAVE to deal with this through e-mail. I am willing to answer any questions that anyone has via e-mail. I am even willing to post something if someone feels it is important, but I will feel much better when this dies down in callahan's. I think the subject is using up too much bandwidth. Please, if you think that there are some answers that I owe to the gang in general, I WILL post them, but I would really appreciate it if this could just go die down. I hope you understand. >Steve >Stephen C. Hill, CDP Doug. Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!usc!ucsd!ucsdhub!hp-sdd!hplabs!hpfcso!daq From: daq@hpfcso.HP.COM (Doug Quarnstrom) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Axing around Message-ID: <9060045@hpfcso.HP.COM> Date: 21 Mar 90 21:22:16 GMT References: <9003201128.AA07607@fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM> Organization: Hewlett-Packard, Fort Collins, CO, USA Lines: 25 Cynic enters the bar, clad in black, looking ever so much like a man doing a bad Johnny Cash impression. He crosses to the table where Jilara and Alaric are seated. "I have come to have that brandy with you, and I have brought you another symbol." He sets a rose on the table in a small crystal vase. "There is only one rose to symbolize your newfound bond. However, you must notice that this rose is flawed." Everyone looks a little closer at the seemingly perfect rose. Jilara sees it, "It has no thorns." "Yes, I hope you appreciate what I meant by that, but don't ask, because I am not sure I know." He sits and drinks with them, proposing a toast to confusing electronic symbols. 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 rants (delayed, sorry) Message-ID: <9003220341.AA05831@rush.cc.cmu.edu> Date: 22 Mar 90 03:41:01 GMT Organization: Carnegie Mellon, Pittsburgh, PA Lines: 112 (please excuse this late posting -- I sent it five days ago and went home for an extended weekend, not knowing it hadn't gone through) ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- 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!snorkelwacker!usc!samsung!uunet!cbmvax!vu-vlsi!nlp From: nlp@vu-vlsi.Villanova.EDU (Nick Pine) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Happy birthday, Johann Sebastian Keywords: so fine, so fine, so fine Message-ID: <281@vu-vlsi.Villanova.EDU> Date: 21 Mar 90 23:07:59 GMT Reply-To: nlp@vu-vlsi.UUCP (Nick Pine) Distribution: alt Organization: Villanova Univ. EE Dept. Lines: 14 As JSB used to say, la da dah di da dah di da dah da da dah da da dah da da dah di da dah da da dah da da dah da da dah da da DAH di da DAH di da . . . --Nick Pine Spring is officially here, in spite of the snow on the ground this morning, and the sheep are humming a little tune from Cantata Nr 208, at least until Easter... Newsgroups: alt.callahans Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!chaos.cs.brandeis.edu!chaos!adam From: adam@chaos.chaos.cs.brandeis.edu (Keppi) Subject: Re: Grenades a la Creme In-Reply-To: wcs@cbnewsh.ATT.COM's message of 20 Mar 90 23:37:02 GMT Message-ID: Sender: adam@chaos.cs.brandeis.edu (Keppi) Organization: Bizzare Unlimited, Traveler In Elephants References: <35036@ucbvax.BERKELEY.EDU> <9066@cbnewsh.ATT.COM> Date: 22 Mar 90 04:38:14 Lines: 25 In article <9066@cbnewsh.ATT.COM> wcs@cbnewsh.ATT.COM (Bill Stewart 201-949-0705 erebus.att.com!wcs) writes: The monk mumbles something about "Pie In The Sky", and returns to contemplating the number of angels that can dance with a set of pinheads. electric -- # 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! How about the number of angles that can dance on the head of a bear? Did anyone come up with adaquit solutions for the corundrums proposed? Something about a human floating at the exact center of a spherical mirror, and with a flashlight out. What is seen? Does it matter the direction of the beam? Well, any takers? Traveler In Elephants Dave -- -- Newsgroups: alt.callahans Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!chaos.cs.brandeis.edu!chaos!adam From: adam@chaos.chaos.cs.brandeis.edu (Keppi) Subject: Re: Spaceport Bar stories... In-Reply-To: sksircar@phoenix.Princeton.EDU's message of 21 Mar 90 06:11:23 GMT Message-ID: Sender: adam@chaos.cs.brandeis.edu (Keppi) Organization: Bizzare Unlimited, Traveler In Elephants References: <14727@phoenix.Princeton.EDU> Date: 22 Mar 90 05:10:52 Lines: 30 "To quest: O charter of Spamit," Rumbles forth the Salesman in the rough "did the passing collection contain pieces of the White Heart? If not perhaps a required reading (besides the four SR books) might be Tales of the White Heart. It too was a bar, but with more scientific and improbable bent ..." "People All, I welcome you who have just found your way here. I would trump to high heavens my welcome, but that might paint a black picture of me. Perhaps someone could convey this," <*reaching into my sample case and drawing out what apparently is a piece of standard undergarments ... *> " to our good layer friend. While they aren't quite _legal_ briefs ... Ooof." "A toast. To friends. Those I have now, and those I will get later. <*Flip*> <*Closed eyes expecting disaster*> <*Crash*> <*Relief*> "I welcome you all in. (Much good that does you, Mike is the head boss, and after some of my comments, I wouldn't be surprised if he was a bit tender.) This is supposed to be a merry joint, and since it is improbable that square dancing was ever done to wind instruments, if you will play, I will call ..." (Damn I wish I could pry ... (Eddie, just thinking, be careful where you swing that thing, I might get hurt.) better not though.) Traveler In Elephants Dave -- -- Path: mit-eddie!bu.edu!orc!inews!iwarp.intel.com!omepd!pzbaum!reed!odlin From: odlin@reed.UUCP (Iain Odlin) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: The next step. Message-ID: <14488@reed.UUCP> Date: 22 Mar 90 10:05:51 GMT Reply-To: odlin@reed.UUCP (Iain Odlin, "Orion") Organization: The Kobayashi Maru Lines: 111 Orion makes his toast to cats and sits at the bar. What happens next he was *not* expecting. His toast is echoed several times over and the fireplace fills with glass and pottery shards. Maya approaches Orion and offers a hug and a large warm fuzzy, both of which are gratefully accepted; the hug is a long and much needed one and the fuzzy is particularly warm (it wriggles its way into Orion's cloak and hides its fuzzy self in there, nuzzling Orion's neck, purring loudly). Jilara speaks some encouraging and heart-warming words and is joined by many others. Arthur, the Mage of Fionivar, claps Orion on the shoulder and admonishes him not to give up. Once things slow down a little, the Cynic stands and says a few things, finishing up with (in his posting): Forgive me if I am not doing a good job of pointing out the positives, but such is not my function. About all I can recommend it to keep a stiff upper lip. It may not get better, but it sure as hell ain't gonna get much worse. You have my wishes for luck. Nick Chopper watches the proceedings, especially the numerous toasts ("A tin man's work is never done...") then adds (in his own posting): "Anything we can do? I'm afraid I can't get you housing or friends, or even back in school. I can only wish you luck and tell you to HANG IN THERE - things WILL get better. Here is another warm fuzzy from a tin man." Orion gratefully accepts the second fuzzy, which he places on the other side of his neck. The two fuzzies are both purring loudly enough that their trills are heterodyning slightly, an effect everyone in the Place notes with interest. Orion grins, then says, "Nick, you and everyone else who so thoughtfully e-mailed or posted tey (the Gaelic non-gender specific pronoun) support have already done the best thing anyone could have done for me: You all wished me well, and you said you cared, which was something I wasn't sure *anyone* was willing to do when I posted my entrance. When the first letters hit my e-mail box, I was astonished and immensely pleased! It (to quote Clint Eastwood) made my day! In fact, it has made several! Thank you! Thank you all!" He stands up from his seat at the bar and moves over to the Cynic's table, taking his lemonade (Thanks Arthur!) with him. To the Cynic, he says, "Sir, you have done an excellent job of pointing out the positives as far as I'm concerned. In addition, you reminded me of something I tend to forget when things get to me in a way no other response to my posting did (it was the story about your brother that did it). You reminded me in a very graphic way that I am not the only one who has been hurt. But, as my father put it: `It's hard to see the whale for what it is when you're inside it.' Thank you for pointing out the outside of the whale. Now maybe I can stop blubbering for a while." A barrage of peanuts hits Orion, upsetting the the warm fuzzies, one of which falls into his drink with a loud "QwEEEP?!?!." He fishes it out and gently sets it next to the fireplace to dry. Orion returns to the bar and removes his cloak, revealing a simple white shirt tucked into a kilt in Hunting Stewart tartan, over which he is wearing a furred dress sporrin. The cloak he folds up and sets on the bartop, placing next to it a large black case. He then turns to face the Place's patrons and says, "And now, an update on my life: My interviews, despite all the well wishing, went very badly and I, quite frankly, felt as though it was the end for me. I would like to point out that, at that time, I had not yet received any replies to my posting." He sips at the recently fuzzy-inhabited liquid and notes a distinct change in it. Wet fuzzy is not really an appropriate flavouring to add to lemonade, he decides, so he sets the drink on the bar. "My next move was to call my father -- a good choice, as it turns out. We had a three-hour conversation and by the end I didn't feel like killing myself anymore. After that, at my father's recommendation, I got a motel room so I'd have a roof over my head. I had hoped that, since then, some- thing would present itself in the paper's classified section, but nothing has and I've run out of money to spend on such things as motel rooms. So, Arthur, I'm going to take your advice in a large way and I'm going to visit my parents for a while. Quite a step back, I'll admit, but an effective one. `Home is where they have to take you in if you need to go there,' my father told me. From there, I'll figure out what I'm doing, at least on the short-term." Orion picks up the fuzzy-imbued lemonade and toes the chalk line. "Ellen, despite what you may think, the well-wishing of strangers is not meaningless. It is precisely the well-wishing of several complete strangers (or rather, friends I hadn't met yet), in addition to the love of my father, that has allowed me to be standing here right now." Orion looks thoughtful for a moment. "We obviously come from two completely different viewpoints, but I think it says something wonderful that someone who knows nothing of me but my plight can hope for a better future for me. And so, my toast: To strangers become friends; thank you, each and every one of you!" With that, the drink in Orion's hand joins the shards of glass in the fire- place. The toast completed, Orion retrieves his now only slightly damp fuzzy and returns it to its place on his shoulder. He then crosses the room to where Ellen is sitting and produces a bright blue fuzzy from within his sporrin. "This I do not feel is a meaningless act," he says as he hands the fuzzy to her. "I wish you health, warmth and happiness, should you desire them." Orion returns to the bar and grabs his case. "Once again, I want to thank all of you for welcoming me to the Place. Believe me, I'm going to be here for as long as I've got net.access. For now, I'm going up on the roof," he says to everyone as he starts up the stairs, "to play my bagpipes. I wonder if these two little fuzzies could act as `soprano drones.' Hmmm... At any rate, anyone is free to join me, should you so desire." -- ----------------------------------Iain Odlin----------------------------------- Box 142, Reed College, Portland OR, 97202 odlin@reed -or- {ogicse,tektronix}!reed!odlin ...Take you to the last wild place, Skin and the stars: they embrace... Path: mit-eddie!bloom-beacon!shelby!lindy!news From: GE.LJB@forsythe.stanford.edu (Louis J Bookbinder) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Salesman undercuts prices! Message-ID: <8613@lindy.Stanford.EDU> Date: 22 Mar 90 17:43:57 GMT Sender: news@lindy.Stanford.EDU (News Service) Lines: 11 Clunk Nick pokes his pointy head (with the green fur sticking out underneath) into the bar. "Mike is NOT a bit tender. He is an 8 bit tender, all drinks are a dollar" Don't waste your peanuts on the closed door. Nick Chopper - my opinion? dont ax! LB>- GE.LJB@Forsythe.stanford.edu