Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!usc!brutus.cs.uiuc.edu!lll-winken!bu.edu!bucsf.bu.edu!austin From: austin@bucsf.bu.edu (Austin H. Ziegler, III) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAArrrrrrrgh! Message-ID: Date: 2 Apr 90 08:11:49 GMT Sender: news@bu.edu.bu.edu Organization: Boston University College of Engineering Lines: 60 The techmage gets up, walks to the bar and gets a drink. He drinks the Diet Sprite in one gulp, and throws the glass into the fireplace from where he is standing. He then screams at the top of his lungs. At that sound, the entire bar silences, even the bagpipes on the roof. Everyone watches expectantly. "Sorry. I had to get it out. "Fast Eddie, you can put your sap away, I've appreciated the people stopping by my lone table and saying they care. I wish I cared. You know people, I've gotten to the point I really don't care. I don't know what I want, but I know that life for me is bad because I'm not living up to my *minimum* expectations. And believe me, my minimums are pretty low, although my highs are out of sight. A lot has happened to me lately, and I really don't know what to do about it. Screaming like I did does absolutely no good, but it makes me feel better. You know, I've not really been able to cry since I've been in school. It isn't a macho-thing either. I've just been unable to really cry to soothe my emotions. I am an emotional wreck right now, I think. I'm doing absolutely horrible in school, and I'm not fully certain why. I started doing really bad at the beginning fo the semester or the classes were just really dull, and now its too late to pick the pieces up. I hope that the professors will be understanding for the most part because I'm going to ask for some special permissions to catch up on most of what I've missed. I've been sick for the past two weeks, and it got really bad last week. But worse than that, I've neglected most of my work for the better part of a month. I've just not cared. I've done just enough to survive life, skip classes. "Dammit, I know I've got the potential to do anything I damn well please, I know that *everyone* has that potential. I just don't know what I want to do. Realize that I'm not bragging here, I'm just telling what has been told me thousands of times. I know that I'm good in most anything I do when I apply myself to it, but nobody here at Boston University has given me anything to apply myself to. Thus, I've not had anything to fall back on when I lost interest, so that I can regain interest. For as gifted as people say I am, I don't believe it because I can't make up my mind on what I want to do. People think I look around twenty to twenty-five, and some say I act about the same level. DAMN IT! I'm only eighteen, and I don't know where the hell I'm going. I want to learn but I want people to challenge me to learn, to give me something that I can learn but I'll be challenged by it and I won't lose interest. I learn things quickly, but I don't learn a damn thing if I don't get certain things preset. All I know is that I need to set up something between BU and I so that I'm challenged. Like I said, I know I'm good. I've seen some of the results, but I also know that I've probably got about 200 projects or so left undone. I'm not kidding about that number, either. I wish I were. I have so few successes because I'm not really challenged and I'm bad at challenging myself. "Not only that, but I'm not myself anymore. I'm not the me I knew for eighteen years that was continually changing, learning, growing. I feel like I've stagnated, and I hate it. Such is the bane of my existence. Why can't I ..." With that he disappears. "I know I'm not alone, but why do I feel alone." Fast Eddie's piano begins playing without him. It plays "I am a Rock..." -- austin@bucsf.bu.edu (bigstuff to austin@buengf.bu.edu) 700 Commonwealth Box 2094, Boston, MA 02215 (617) 375-8272 BUENG '93 "I feel much better now..." -- HAL, _2001_ (no i don't) Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!bat.cis.ohio-state.edu!kent_a_jenkins From: kent_a_jenkins@bat.cis.ohio-state.edu Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Morality Poker Summary: What to do when there's nothing to do Keywords: Poker, anyone? Message-ID: <78771@tut.cis.ohio-state.edu> Date: 2 Apr 90 20:34:48 GMT References: <20419@eerie.acsu.Buffalo.EDU> <20508@eerie.acsu.Buffalo.EDU> Sender: usenet_news@tut.cis.ohio-state.edu Reply-To: Thenomain Organization: Ohio State University Virtual Reality Program Lines: 63 In article <20508@eerie.acsu.Buffalo.EDU> v056qkt3@ubvmsb.cc.buffalo.edu writes: > You say much that I wishto hide from myself. You say much that I >already know. you know much that you have yet to say. Much that I mayhap >need to here. I welcome you. Pain is my specialty, you see. I write about it. Thenomain nods, shrugs, blinks, and looks generally confused. "Umm..." He looks at his cyberdeck for a replay. "Oh, yeah. I see. Okay, sorry, there. Thanks. Thank you." > The problem with love is that once you learn how to feel it, you >never forget. I catch myself feeling all the time. I try to shut it off, but >it keeps coming back. I hate myself for the weakness. As a writer, I wish >to keep myself nuetral, as a person, I wish to keep myself ice. The man nods slowly. "Oh, I see. I'm sorry. I've always considered emotions and pain to be good things, things that make us what we are." > I obtained >it once before, but then I learned love. I was not happy as ice, but from >what is induced by love, I would be much more comfortable with no feeling >than with pain. I have much left to learn, as Iam now starting over. i want >to learn what all of this is. I will ovrcome the notion of ice eventually. >This is why I came here. I will learn what it is to feel. To know. Even >if I learn to hurt, I feel it is important for me. I know I contradict myself >often. I know what I know, but for the first time in my life, I know not how >to express it. Hell of a thing for a poet not to know what to say, is it not? Thenomain smirks and swirls the little umbrella that is sticking out of his glass of Pepsi, taking it out and handing it to a nearby sprite. "No, not really. About as strange as it is for a..." he struggles for an allusion. "As a skiier wanting to lie on the beach or a student wanting to study." He looks a little embarrassed as he gives the last example. "It's human." >> "Poker? I'm not rich, or anything, so we'll have to play for..." He >>considers a moment, looking off into the haze where he always seems to look >>when thinking. "How about stories. Fact or fiction, rhyming or not. I >>always did like stories. > > Alright, let's make the Ante a little about ourselves... > > I am wildy haskell. I am nineteen years of age, and I have made a >lot of mistakes. They were bad mistakes, because I refused to learn what they >taught. I am now a child again, of my own choosing, and Ilearn again what is >like to live. Thenomain coughs. "Well, alright. I'm, er, Thenomain." (He points up at the header for those who want to know his real name.) "And, as I've said, I'm nineteen, as well. And, yes, I've made MORE than my share of mistakes and I keep making them. I don't LIKE making them, but I do. Sometimes very stupid, very agrivating mistakes." He stops a minute and thinks a little, then goes on. "I suppose the only other thing I can say, without going on and on (and therefore raising the ante) is that people have a bad tendancy of scaring me." Awaiting Wildy's responce or nod, he finishes shuffling the cards and deals out five. "Five card stud. Nothing wild, except the stories." "Let 'em fly!" -=- -- Thenomain -- Kent Jenkins -- Card-carrying zealot -- -- jenkins@osu-20.ircc.ohio-state.edu -- in the Order of the -- -- kent-j@cis.ohio-state.edu -- Fweeble. -- Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!usc!jarthur!bweed From: bweed@jarthur.Claremont.EDU (Nookie of the Hideous Slaves) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAArrrrrrrgh! Message-ID: <5758@jarthur.Claremont.EDU> Date: 2 Apr 90 21:38:39 GMT References: Organization: Hotel Pandemonium (Harvey Mudd College, Claremont, CA) Lines: 14 She sighs. "I know all too well how you feel," she says, "and what's worse, I don't even feel like I could be a part of this place. Maybe if I'd found it before the end of the year, but now... I can barely catch one conversation and contribute in any way. And at year's end, I don't think I'll be able to get back again." She looks morosely at her empty coffee mug and shambles off to get it refilled. -- | Brandi Weed bweed@jarthur.claremont.edu !uunet!jarthur!bweed | Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!yale!cs.utexas.edu!uunet!zephyr.ens.tek.com!orca.wv.tek.com!pogo!andyd From: andyd@pogo.WV.TEK.COM (Andy Davidson) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: now, where did Lyra go?.... Message-ID: <8791@pogo.WV.TEK.COM> Date: 31 Mar 90 06:32:46 GMT Reply-To: andyd@pogo.WV.TEK.COM (Laura Davidson) Distribution: na Organization: Tektronix Guest Lines: 48 Unlike some notable exceptions, the door opens (opens!) and a head pokes through rather timidly (you know, the ol' idon'tknowifibelonghere look). A rather young face, shortly followed by the rest of her, slides in. Her hair is medium long, tending towards auburn, and surrounds a pale, freckled face (presently flushed at having so many people looking at her (and some very odd faces indeed) ). Worn blue jeans and a jean jacket complete the picture. Pausing to screw up her courage, the (girl? woman?) tosses her bangs out of her eyes with practiced ease and steps up to the bar. Fishing a single out of her pocket, she lays it down in time to see a Sprite land under her nose. With a perplexed shrug, she takes the drink and addresses the room (at large and small), "Eh, hello, all. I heard from a friend about this Place, and thought I might drop by for a bit." She looks as if she might say more, then takes a gulp (and nearly chokes, natch), toes the line, and calls, "To cats; my true and uncomplicated friends." <*Krash*> (and relatively on the mark, too) Collecting another drink, she wanders about, looking for someone. A someone she eventually finds. "Hey, Lyra. I found it." She nods politely to Basta (the black cat). "Hey, Hex." Lyra smiles at her. "I knew you would, Kady, you're Callahan material without a doubt." Basta licks Kady's nose. "Uh, yeah, glad to see you too, cat." Looking vaguely uncomfortable, "Is that snake of yours loose, perchance?" Lyra laughs, holding up her left wrist. Above the watch is an exquisite jade bracelet in the form of a snake. "Up, Hsana." The bracelet sort of *becomes* a snake, who purrs a little. "Kady, she doesn't bite people, you know. Unless they pet her on the head, which you have - fortunately - never done." With a weak smile, Kady allows the subject to drop. The snake again becomes a bracelet, and Lyra pulls her sleeve over it, apparently agreeing that the subject is, for now, closed. -- No,not the same user, just the same account. Jeez, it's getting crowded in here! To other Mages: the prosperity of full power and good luck. To non-mages, | Shannalyralythia | well, there's always the *next* incarnation! | Using the account |But Islands of the Blessed, bless you, son, |_of_Andy_Davidson__|I never came upon a blessed one. -Robert Frost -- Andy Davidson Toolsmith-in-residence Tektronix (503) 685-3033 Internet: andyd@pogo.WV.tek.com uucp: ...!tektronix!pogo!andyd Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!yale!cs.utexas.edu!uunet!zephyr.ens.tek.com!orca.wv.tek.com!pogo!andyd From: andyd@pogo.WV.TEK.COM (Andy Davidson) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Puns away Message-ID: <8793@pogo.WV.TEK.COM> Date: 31 Mar 90 07:15:39 GMT Reply-To: andyd@pogo.WV.TEK.COM (Laura Davidson) Distribution: na Organization: Tektronix Guest Lines: 12 "Hello, just thought I'd say hi." Lyra says, fading in In the center of the room, right next to a table-full of people. "By the way, you may have noticed (and I hope you don't mind too much) that my choices of words tend to be somewhat Lyra-cal." This is rewarded by various responses, ranging from mundane peanuts to truly creative and horrific puns. Lyra sits down to see what happens. -- Andy Davidson Toolsmith-in-residence Tektronix (503) 685-3033 Internet: andyd@pogo.WV.tek.com uucp: ...!tektronix!pogo!andyd Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!yale!umich!samsung!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!sunybcs!ubvms.cc.buffalo.edu!v056qkt3 From: v056qkt3@ubvmsb.cc.buffalo.edu (William W Haskell) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Morality Poker Summary: What to do when there's nothing to do Keywords: Poker, anyone? Message-ID: <20536@eerie.acsu.Buffalo.EDU> Date: 2 Apr 90 16:58:02 GMT References: <20419@eerie.acsu.Buffalo.EDU> <20508@eerie.acsu.Buffalo.EDU> Sender: nobody@acsu.Buffalo.EDU Reply-To: v056qkt3@ubvmsb.cc.buffalo.edu Organization: University at Buffalo Lines: 45 In article <78771@tut.cis.ohio-state.edu>, kent_a_jenkins@bat.cis.ohio-state.edu writes... > Thenomain coughs. "Well, alright. I'm, er, Thenomain." (He points up >at the header for those who want to know his real name.) "And, as I've said, >I'm nineteen, as well. And, yes, I've made MORE than my share of mistakes >and I keep making them. I don't LIKE making them, but I do. Sometimes very >stupid, very agrivating mistakes." He stops a minute and thinks a little, >then goes on. "I suppose the only other thing I can say, without going >on and on (and therefore raising the ante) is that people have a bad tendancy >of scaring me." > > Awaiting Wildy's responce or nod, he finishes shuffling the cards and deals >out five. "Five card stud. Nothing wild, except the stories." > >"Let 'em fly!" "Ok, you win that one. My first story is a little bit about man himself. It starts out with a youngster who is a dreamer, but is being raised to be a scientist. His parents want him to be an engineer, or something fitting and financially stable in a growing technical world. The problem with this is that the child grows and goes off to college without dispelling the dreams of his parents. He begins to study to be an engineer. He learns very little of what he is being taught. He learns many things he shouldn't have to learn at a time like the one he is going through. ( Or so he thinks. ) He learns about hurt deeper than he has ever experienced before. He learns about the inability he has to keep up with the changes that are going on in his own very life. It is a sad time for him. A time when he begins to meditate upon ideas he had never entertained preciously. Ideas like suicide. Ideas like just packing up and leaving school, and never being seen again." "Something in the boy keeps him from doing any of these things, and he takes another step towards becoming a man. He knows he isn't there yet, but that he will get there. Now he is finding himself with no drive. He is a person who is lost within himself. He doesn't even know himself anymore, much less the androids that he seems to have been surrounding himself with since he arrived here." "He is a sad boy, but very few people know him to be sad. Most know him to be ever-happy, because he trusts few. And allows none to know it." "That is my story. Now deal." -wildy v056qkt3@ubvms.bitnet v056qkt3@ubvms.cc.buffalo.edu haskell@autarch.acsu.buffalo.edu haskell@lictor.acsu.buffalo.edu Path: mit-eddie!bbn!uwm.edu!cs.utexas.edu!uunet!zephyr.ens.tek.com!orca.wv.tek.com!pogo!andyd From: andyd@pogo.WV.TEK.COM (Andy Davidson) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Life on Fast Forward Keywords: Lots of Stuff Message-ID: <8792@pogo.WV.TEK.COM> Date: 31 Mar 90 06:46:46 GMT References: <14820@phoenix.Princeton.EDU> <10036@spool.cs.wisc.edu> Reply-To: andyd@pogo.WV.TEK.COM (Laura Davidson) Organization: Tektronix Guest Lines: 18 In article <10036@spool.cs.wisc.edu> lewandow@sabertooth.cs.wisc.edu (Gary Lewandowski (TA of Doom)) writes: > >Does this make any sense to you? To anyone? "Definitely! With no problems at all! Happens to everyone. Irritating, too. Ah, well." To other Mages: the prosperity of full power and good luck. To non-mages, | Shannalyralythia | well, there's always the *next* incarnation! | Using the account |But Islands of the Blessed, bless you, son, |_of_Andy_Davidson__|I never came upon a blessed one. -Robert Frost 'Scuse the next .sig; I forgot to change it. But this is kind of from both of us anyway, so what's the difference? -- Andy Davidson Toolsmith-in-residence Tektronix (503) 685-3033 Internet: andyd@pogo.WV.tek.com uucp: ...!tektronix!pogo!andyd Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!usc!brutus.cs.uiuc.edu!dali!decwrl!shelby!lindy!news From: GE.LJB@forsythe.stanford.edu (Louis J Bookbinder) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: the winds of change Message-ID: <8776@lindy.Stanford.EDU> Date: 2 Apr 90 23:34:27 GMT Sender: news@lindy.Stanford.EDU (News Service) Lines: 86 Clank, clink, clunk. Nick Chopper has been working overtime cleaning glass out of the fireplace. Someone threw a large wooden mug in the fire, which flared up marvelously, threatening to light up miriad dark corners where lurkers fear to be recognized. Its OK, you can keep your privacy. Nick grumbles a lot. Basically, he likes his work, trying to maintain the breastworks against the assaults of entropy, but sometimes that demon seems to get the upper hand. Nick half crawls into the fire to retrieve a large rock somebody lobbed in. Actually, the half-dozen shards of aforementioned (love that word!) rock still too hefty to sweep. Its OK, without challenges, why work? But Nick grumbles. Its been a long time since he was in his tin castle in Oz, with dozens of Winkie servants to heed his beck and call. And he misses his old friends Scarecrow and Jack and of course Dorothy and Ozma, terribly. Somehow, that all seems a faint memory now. Nick cleans up the worst, takes out his buckets to the trash (virtual Dempsty dumpster?). Soon he returns. The fire is almost out. Too many people toasting with - WATER - of all things! Nick builds it back up with dry wood and steps back. CRASH, another toast. *Sigh* Nick takes a break, anyhow. Does his usual drunkard's walk to a random window. The landscape is bleak - a rocky surface clean of any hint of soil except a few tiny, hardy plants. As he watches, a bolder, maybe a ton or so, bounces by and makes it clear that the world he watches is one of perpetual high winds - 200-300 kph or more. Impressive. Yet not a sound. Strange windows. Nick turns from the window. "Lets see, now. Taldin! Welcome back! Haven't heard from you in a while! "Hildebaby - so sorry you are sick, please get some rest so you can get well so you can do all the hard work you need to. I never had that, but I know the frustration. "Nao, I hope you can put the LJBF guilt behind you. We all do that at times and regret for a long time afterwards. I know you didn't want to do that, but I trust you have the intelligence to see when a continuance of a poor relationship can only lead to worse grief. So try to remind yourself that we all change, and to pretend otherwise is self-destructive. And good luck on newer relationships. If there are soulmates for real (I'm not convinced), may you find yours. "Welcome, Wildy. I hope we can hear some of your poetry here in the Place. We've already had quite a bit that was really good. I also want to give you my condolences on the relationship that died. I think you were very lucky that you had the experience to learn the real cost of giving up what is true of yourself. We all change, we all try to alter our ways to become more effective, and happier, but sometimes we change something real in exchange for promises. Sometimes we win that gamble, and sometimes we lose. I hope you win some. I hope you find happiness in your writing - it can be very rewarding. But I hope you find people, too, even someone for whom you can sacrifice yourself, and hope you gain something wonderful from it. "I am still thinking about the conversations about innocence. Sometimes I am awfully naive, myself. I confuse it with innocence. I feel awfully foolish at times. But I think that, while innocence is not something to be sought, it is something we all have in some measure. It is nothing to apologize about unless we keep it as a crutch. And it is especially not a thing I think people should cultivate in others. Like parents keeping their kids innocent about sex, religion, politics, and the other difficult realities of life. Yes, innocence is something we like to see in the very young, but it does not help them, much. "I'm not sure how this relates to innocence in adults. I agree that it is the same basic innocence, but the social position of adults is so very different. Or should be. "Hmmmm, this will take more thought" Nick clanks over to a corner of the bar and picks up his axe, hefts it a few times, and goes to sit at an - apparently - empty table and sits in thought, clanking the axehead into one metal palm. A green kitten comes over and looks up at him. "What" says Nick. "Oh, sorry." He reaches under his funnel hat and pulls out, 1, 2, 3 assorted warm fuzzies, leaving (at least) one inside, replaces the hat, gets up, finds Hildebaby, Nao, and Wildy, gives each one, and returns to his table. The kitten nods and pads away. Nick Chopper - my opinion? dont ax! LB>- GE.LJB@Forsythe.stanford.edu Path: mit-eddie!bu.edu!bucsf.bu.edu!austin From: austin@bucsf.bu.edu (Austin H. Ziegler, III) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Puns away Message-ID: Date: 3 Apr 90 00:58:40 GMT References: <8793@pogo.WV.TEK.COM> Sender: news@bu.edu.bu.edu Distribution: na Organization: Boston University College of Engineering Lines: 27 In-reply-to: andyd@pogo.WV.TEK.COM's message of 31 Mar 90 07:15:39 GMT Lyra says: Lyra> "Hello, just thought I'd say hi." Lyra says, fading in In the center Lyra> of the room, right next to a table-full of people. Austin stands. "I stayed up all night studying for a test that's Wednesday! What an April Fool I am...I need a break...I guess that I'll assay some puns...at least I won't be graded on them...or will I?" Lyra> "By the way, you may have noticed (and I hope you don't mind too Lyra> much) that my choices of words tend to be somewhat Lyra-cal." This Lyra> is rewarded by various responses, ranging from mundane peanuts to Lyra> truly creative and horrific puns. Lyra sits down to see what Lyra> happens. "Lyre. I'd say that the reggae-lers here won't put up with such. In fact, I'd go as far as saying that pun fermata'ed a lot of the alcohol here, turning it into vinegar." Austin lets the peanuts bounce off him and manages to catch a couple in his mouth as he sticks his toungue out at Lyra. (-8 -- austin@bucsf.bu.edu (bigstuff to austin@buengf.bu.edu) 700 Commonwealth Box 2094, Boston, MA 02215 (617) 375-8272 BUENG '93 "I feel much better now..." -- HAL, _2001_ Path: mit-eddie!mit-amt!snorkelwacker!usc!brutus.cs.uiuc.edu!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!hp-sdd!hplabs!hpfcso!hpcndaw!jason%hpcndjdz.HP.COM@hpcnd From: jason@hpcndjdz.HP.COM (Jason Zions) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Blueness Message-ID: <21780009@hpcndjdz.HP.COM> Date: 2 Apr 90 18:24:48 GMT References: <8MZG7ZS@xavier.swarthmore.edu> Organization: HP Colorado Networks Division Lines: 28 >Love is a diamond, hard, but clear. If it is cloudy, cannot be seen >through, there is a flaw of communication, of character. It becomes all >the harder for dishonesty, and the shape becomes fixed. Jazz looks at the speaker, cocks his head a bit to one side, and listens. He shakes his head a little, and stands up. "Love is crystal clear water-ice. If it is cloudy, there simply is much that needs to be settled. No inherent flaw; the crush of daily affairs may add cracks but anneals them as well, such that some sealed flaws bear more strength than the untried rest. Hard, yes; but the pressures and inexorable flow of life must reshape it in their own images, leaving behind a trans- formed record of their passage. Most importantly, though, care must be taken; under good maintenance, it will last forever, changed in form but unchanging in essence. All things, even this, require nurturing; the lack will forever change that essence of crystal clarity, hardness, malleability, durability, leaving behind nothing but vapor dreams and a puddle of tears." He walks towards the bar. "Love is crystal ice, the kind that whiskey dreams of wrapping in its smokey grasp, the kind that rises to the top of even murky waters, that sits and burns the flesh of hands that try to hold it under durance." As he slips a single on the bar, he says, more quietly and to Mike, "Love is great and all that jive, but I prefer by scotch neat as you well know. I wonder if that says anything about me?" He takes the scotch back to his table and sits again. Jazz "Imagery honed while-u-wait"