Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!usc!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!wuarchive!ukma!psuvax1!xavier!news From: nap92@campus.swarthmore.edu Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Glue Message-ID: Date: 8 Apr 90 17:21:13 GMT Sender: news@xavier.swarthmore.edu (USENET News System) Organization: Swarthmore College Lines: 40 Nao takes Eretria's hand. "Thank you for offering to dance with me. I'd be glad to teach you the steps. Dancing seems to be one of the few things I can do these days without falling apart. And I grew up a klutz, too. I'll be back to teach you the steps, my friend." She releases her friend's hand and walks over to Mike. She moves very slowly, and her eyes are deep-set. She is very obviously depressed. "Here's a dollar. I don't know what I want; just give me something in a glass..." Mike solemnly takes the bill, thinks a moment, and then smiles. He walks over to the fridge, and pulls out a bottle of Orangina. Nao brightens. "I'll even just take that in the bottle; I love the shape. I don't know what's with me these days. Well no, I do know... I'm failing a class and I don't want my parents to know. I think I've worked out a solution to the problem, though. At least a temporary one.... I think I'm going to take a year off, and take one or two courses as an unofficial student, so I can catch up on credits, and work out my emotions." "The problem is that I'm still being.....I dunno. Up and then down. Silly and hyper one moment, and then breaking into tears the next. It's very discomfiting. About the only people holding me together are my friends, and the people here are among them. I just wanted to thank you for being here to say what I'm feeling to....." She wipes a tear from her eye and drinks the Orangina. "I'm NOT going to toast with such a wonderful bottle. Could you fill this with water, Mike?" Mike smilingly does so as Nao reaches out a miscellaneous window and picks a bunch of violets, both white and purple. It is, after all, timeless in Callahan's. She sticks them in the small round bottle, and leaves the bottle on the counter. "Happy Spring!" And she goes back to Eretria to teach her the Scottish steps.... -Nao / v \ | Nao Parkhurst | | | nap92@campus.swarthmore.edu | "Blasny, blasny." | | nap92@swarthmr.bitnet | -"The Foreigner" | \ ^ / Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!yale!cs.utexas.edu!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: depressed Message-ID: <4a7v3si00V4U0GREhe@andrew.cmu.edu> Date: 8 Apr 90 21:45:28 GMT References: <16407@haddock.ima.isc.com> Distribution: alt Organization: Class of '92, Carnegie Mellon, Pittsburgh, PA Lines: 12 In-Reply-To: <16407@haddock.ima.isc.com> > Excerpts from netnews.alt.callahans: 7-Apr-90 depressed Karl > Heuer@haddock.ima.i (3795) > The man entering the bar could almost pass for one of what the Hraani > would > call _adveidy shu-ch'sen_. Like Donald Trump, you mean? --Z [hoping that I didn't cross the internal refernces....] 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 (Laura Davidson) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: love/lack of Message-ID: <8852@pogo.WV.TEK.COM> Date: 8 Apr 90 18:28:01 GMT Reply-To: andyd@pogo.WV.TEK.COM (Laura Davidson) Distribution: na Organization: Tektronix Guest Lines: 49 Lyra walks to the center (roughly) of the room. "I haven't any toast," (a few puzzled looks) "But I would like to say, the discussion here now seems to be turning to love and not having it. Anybody out there ever heard Karen Carpenter's song, `GOODBYE TO LOVE' ?" "One part of it popped into my head when I heard this discussion. So here it is: * I'll say goodbye to love * No one ever cared if I should live or die * Time and time again the chance for love * has passed me by * And all I know of love * is how to live without it * I just can't seem to find it. "Anyway, that's all that is relevant to me, the next part may be relevant to some: * So I've made my mind up I must live * my life alone * And though it's not the easy way * I guess I've always known * I'd say goodbye to love. [section not relevant, deleted] * All the years of useless search * Have finally reached an end * Loneliness and empty days will be my * only friend * From this day love is forgotten * I'll go on as best I can. [rest of song deleted] "I don't know how much of this was helpful, interesting, or relevant, but it says something for me." And she sits down. -- A voice said, Look me in the stars |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| And tell me truly, men of earth, | Shannalyralythia | If all the soul-and-body scars |________________________________| Were not too much to pay for birth. -Robert Frost, A Question Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!yale!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!uwm.edu!cs.utexas.edu!uunet!zephyr.ens.tek.com!orca.wv.tek.com!pogo!andyd From: andyd@pogo.WV.TEK.COM (Laura Davidson) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Sorrow Message-ID: <8853@pogo.WV.TEK.COM> Date: 8 Apr 90 23:30:05 GMT Reply-To: andyd@pogo.WV.TEK.COM (Laura Davidson) Distribution: na Organization: Tektronix Guest Lines: 50 Over at Lyra's table, Kady asks Lyra something wistfully, to which Lyra replies soothingly. Kady rises and walkes over to the bar, flinging the hair out of her eyes self-consciously. She looks longingly at the poker game going on, but a) they probably don't want her butting in, b) she can't play poker and c) Kady is miserably shy. She collects another Sprite, and slowly walkes up to the chalk line. Fixing her eyes on slightly trembling hands clutching the drink, she begins, "Hello. I'm Kady, in case you missed me. I.... finally got the guts to make a toast," looking briefly at Lyra. Releasing Lyra from her gaze, Kady pauses awkwardly, then moves to a window showing a cloudburst in full fury. Wiping sweaty palms on her jeans, she continues, "You've been discussing anger and difficulties with the lack thereof. My problem is related but slightly different. "I had a best friend when I was seven. She lived near me. We did everything together. Very close." Kady stops to drink, still nervous, but now seeing someone else. "When I was eight, my best friend moved away and later that year died. There were some extenuating circumstances .... maybe someday I'll tell you. The thing was that I didn't cry. My family thought I was callous, or queer at best. I felt I had to be strong, and that there was no point to it. Two years later, around midnight, I started crying and couldn't stop. It was freaky. "That is the pattern of my life, I guess. I have never broken down in public. In fact, I can count the times I have cried on my hands. Just weird, I guess..." Kady stops and drains her glass. In the window, the rain has slowed to a trickle, and fat drops roll down the pane. "Anyway, I was wondering if anyone out there has the same trouble. If you are, believe me; it is better to let it out. I have sometimes bottled up sadness for so long that it starts to poison me. I do believe it has left a permanent mark on me. Friends and family tell me I'm too reserved and a perpetual frowner. Schoolmates used to tease me, calling me "Little Thundercloud". Tears are part of the natural grieving process. "And thus my toast- to tears.... the healing rain." Kady looks down at her empty glass, then whirls and hurls it with sudden anger straight into the fireplace with a resonating crash. With drooping shoulders and dry eyes, the figure in blue walks back to her table, as behind her the sun comes out with a watery smile. -- Kadyriatha---- (c'est moi) | using the account of Andy Davidson We dance round in a ring and suppose, But the Secret sits in the middle and knows. --Robert Frost, THE SECRET SITS 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 (Laura Davidson) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Sorrow Message-ID: <8854@pogo.WV.TEK.COM> Date: 8 Apr 90 23:37:03 GMT References: <8853@pogo.WV.TEK.COM> Reply-To: andyd@pogo.WV.TEK.COM (Laura Davidson) Distribution: na Organization: Tektronix Guest Lines: 19 Lyra stands up when Kady is finished. "I know what you mean, Kady. I had much the same thing happen when I was eleven, only she was just a good acquaintance, and of course I'd met you by then. You are one up on me. I still haven't cried over her death. Actually, I haven't cried since I was" (long pause as she thinks) "Oh, about eight. And if you hold it in too long sorrow becomes anger, or festering self-pity." "I agree. To tears!" <<*CRASH*!>> -- A voice said, Look me in the stars |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| And tell me truly, men of earth, | Shannalyralythia | If all the soul-and-body scars |________________________________| Were not too much to pay for birth. -Robert Frost, A Question Path: mit-eddie!mit-amt!snorkelwacker!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!sdd.hp.com!hplabs!hpfcso!daq From: daq@hpfcso.HP.COM (Doug Quarnstrom) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Elvis. Message-ID: <9060059@hpfcso.HP.COM> Date: 8 Apr 90 20:21:55 GMT References: <9529@sdcc6.ucsd.edu> Organization: Hewlett-Packard, Fort Collins, CO, USA Lines: 93 Doug gets up slowly from the table where he was sitting, looking in awe at the young Elvis who is standing over in the corner, plucking out little tunes on his guitar. Doug crosses carefully over to Betsy's table and sits at one of the chairs. He introduces himself to Beezlebub Bob. Bob says, "Oh, yeah, you're the Cynic right?" "Well, yeah, I was," Doug responds exhibiting a little embarrassment. "Should'a stuck with it, I think," Bob says playfully while grinning from ear to ear. "Look, Mr. Beaton, I came to speak with your sister. Can I proceed?" "Oh, by all means. Indeed do. Be my guest. Fire away. Proceed..." "Please!" Doug said in barely controlled irritation. "Sorry," responded Bob. Doug turns to Betsy and begins to speak. "Ms. Bo... Uh Ms. Beaton... well, Besty, can I call you Betsy?" Betsy still seems a little catatonic, so she does not respond immediately. Unabashed, Doug forges ahead. "Don't you realize what just happened? That's Elvis. ELVIS. You know, the King. This guy is an icon. Wow, he's kind of like the flying dutchman, forever doomed to wander the malls and laundromats of America in a never ending search for...well, I don't know what for. But he is the flying Texan nevertheless." Besty does not look terribly impressed. "Maybe we should do something to help him out. Maybe we should encourage him a bit. I don't know what. Hey, maybe if we all scream in admiration, he will feel accepted and start to fit in. No? Well, maybe if we just shout 'one for the money, two for the show...' or something like that to get his blood pumping." Suddenly Doug gets a strange look on his face. Ok, he gets a stranger than usual look on his face. "WOW! What am I thinking? This could make me, er I mean us, rich! Just think! We could get some cameras and recording equipment down here and clean up selling this stuff to the enquirer. Oh, maybe that wouldn't be such a good idea. We don't want to invade his privacy." Doug looks at Betsy who is still practicing the thousand yard stare. He shakes her shoulder. "Hey, come on. Snap out of it. Your brother just dragged in the biggest icon in American popular culture, and you act like it was some random bar singer. Man, would you even be impressed if Jim Morrison walked through the door?" Suddenly the door opens. Doug's head whirls so fast that his eyes bug out from the centripetal acceleration. But it is not Mr. Morrison, of course. It is just one of the regular patrons entering the bar. Doug turns back to Betsy, his heart beating a billion times a second due to the Morrison false alarm. "Anyayyyy, Betsy, how 'bout a little for the effort here? What can we do for a ghost? Maybe some requests?" Doug sits back and looks expectantly at Betsy. He almost seems to be saying, 'Ok, the ball's in your court.' Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!brutus.cs.uiuc.edu!psuvax1!xavier!hartman From: hartman@cs.swarthmore.edu (Lord Tattersall) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Jed, without a cause Message-ID: Date: 9 Apr 90 03:42:13 GMT Sender: news@xavier.swarthmore.edu (USENET News System) Organization: The First Biotic Crusade Lines: 59 Jed wanders in the door again. This time he's dressed in black pants, a black Aikido sweatshirt, and his usual blue Nikes (with a white swoosh). Those of you that didn't get a close look at him last time note that with his brown pony-tailed hair, light beard, height, build, blue backpack, and blue Lennon-style glasses, he looks quite a lot like dozens if not thousands of other male college students everywhere. Except for the white eight-foot ladder splotched with multicolored paint that he's carrying (upright) over his right shoulder. "Hi, Mike. I'm not thirsty tonight," he says as he comes through the door. "Hi, all. I don't have much to say, really; just wandering through. Haven't had enough sleep lately, and everyone around me seems pretty stressed." He sets down the ladder. He'd been carrying it at an angle so that the top of it was over his head; as he puts it down, he glances up at it. "Someone told me earlier that that was bad luck," he grins. He leans the top against a convenient wall, then sets down his backpack and rummages in it for a second. "The advantages of virtual backpacks," he comments, pulling out a plate of chocolate/peanut-butter cookies. "Here, Nao -- glue!" He tosses one to Nao, and puts the rest on the bar for everyone. "Sorry if anyone's allergic to the chocolate or peanut butter. But it's easy enough to make your own here." "I was going to say something of more substance, but instead I'll repeat a piece of a Gordon Bok song. I don't know the song's title, and I've never heard it, but a friend quoted these lyrics to me in an APA recently: 'Oh, my Joanie, don't you know That the stars are swinging slow, And the seas are rolling easy As they did so long ago? If I had one gift to give you, I would tell you one more time That the world is always turning Toward the morning.' "I really like it a lot. The only other song of his I've heard, 'Hearth and Fire,' is really good, too; if I were in a better mood, I'd try to sing it for you all and give you some practice in plugging your ears, but instead just a verse of lyrics: 'Hearth and fire be ours tonight, and all the cold outside; Fair the night and kind on you, wherever you may bide, And I'd be the sun upon your head, the wind about your face; My love upon the path you tread, and upon your wanderings, peace.' "Bok apparently calls it 'a comfort song for the eighties.' Heather Rose Jones is the only one I've heard sing it, but it's in _Rise Up Singing_. Anyway, this is pretty far afield from what I started out to say, so I think I'll go return this ladder and head home. G'night!" And so saying, he shoulders the ladder again and walks to the door. There, he turns and says, "Don't worry about the plate. It's sticky, so if you drop it it'll come home." As he wanders out, some of you hear him musing, "Hmm. DROP LASSIE doesn't have quite the same ring to it, you know?" --jed -- {hartman@{campus.swarthmore.edu, swarthmr.bitnet}, ...!bpa!swatsun!hartman} Theorem: For large values of 1, 1 approaches 2, for small values of 2. Corollary (Hartman's Lemma): For most positive integer values of 1, 1>=1. Path: mit-eddie!bloom-beacon!shelby!apple!usc!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!ucbvax!HAWK.ULOWELL.EDU!wgarmil From: wgarmil@HAWK.ULOWELL.EDU (WildCard) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Lonely are the Days.... Message-ID: <9004091158.AA29137@hawk> Date: 9 Apr 90 11:58:12 GMT Sender: daemon@ucbvax.BERKELEY.EDU Lines: 30 Lonely are the days, When all you see are strangers. No loved ones near, No friends to be found, No children at play, No dogs running around. That is what life is like for me In a land I do not know, A land of hope and promise, A land where sorrow goes. I wrote this poem (along with a tird verse about always finding a friend when you really needed to) when I was in Navy boot camp five years ago. Amazing how well this poem applies to living away from home fro the first time while attending college.... If I remember the third verse, I'll post the full poem. (A rough version of the tird verse follows: But as the sorrow builds and the loves fades to a barely a glow, You will always find a true friend whereever you may go. As I said, there are two more lines before these two, but I can't remember them off the top of my head.) WildCard, buried in warm fuzzies (Thanks. I needed that.) Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!usc!ucsd!ucbvax!FSDCUPT.CSD.MOT.COM!jane From: jane@FSDCUPT.CSD.MOT.COM (Jane Beckman x4030) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Great fun! Message-ID: <9004091003.AA17101@fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM> Date: 9 Apr 90 17:03:58 GMT Sender: daemon@ucbvax.BERKELEY.EDU Lines: 10 Well, the White Cockade was very pleasant, though if anyone showed upp before we posted the sign, sorry about that! (They had changed their hours to open in midafternoon. We all just got together a little later.) The watchword is: Never Assume---always call and check for sure! I knew the W.C. was a great Callahans substitute about the time the resident cat walked over, got into a chair, and demanded to be petted. For those who were there, thanks for coming! For those who weren't, we missed you! ---Jilara Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!yale!cs.utexas.edu!uunet!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: Preoccupied Summary: Not a whole lot Message-ID: <79029@tut.cis.ohio-state.edu> Date: 9 Apr 90 18:09:18 GMT Sender: usenet_news@tut.cis.ohio-state.edu Reply-To: Thenomain Organization: Ohio State University Computer and Information Science Lines: 46 "You FOLD?" Thenomain sighs and looks over at his somewhat out-of-it opponent. "You... going to... oh, never mind." He puts his cards down and reaches down benieth the table, pulling out a large bulky textbook. Upon the punning, his head snaps up and a large smile crosses his face. "THAT is what I was told was here! Place of puns. Not to be critical, and surely nothing that I was prepared to happen to myself, but to be reminded time and time again that I can be alone or in pain or whatnot is a sure way to let myself fall into the very same." He sighs, resting the book carefully next to the keyboard. "The argument goes that ignorance is bliss. Another saying is that a little information is a dangerous thing. Innocents are very open to suggestion and, though years of life and a few scant moments about remembering it, I seem open to it, too. So, conversely (and I know I'm going to be harrassed for hours about this), this would make me an innocent. "So why'd I bother the statements about ignorance and information? Well, short though it might have been, I've been flooded with little bits of information though I've managed to retain my ignorance. (Notice that I really haven't said or done anything bright? Well, 'cept Thalin's outfit, which looks fairly bright.)" He smirks, certainly hoping the name was right. Placing the book under the table again, you hear a distinct zipping noise. "What I mean to be bringing this together to is that being both at once is enough to shake most people up. And, as I said, I certainly don't want to be rude but even the amazing power of the *bamfs* and the wonderful mathematical parody (c'mon, it was last year and I was brain dead with that), the overwhelming feeling of angst and lonliness is just too much for me." He picks up a backpack, filled with who knows what, his fancy keyboard and orders a Pepsi. After drinking it, he throws the backpack over a shoulder and walks up to the chalk line. "To joy," he says. "May you all find it everything you see and do. It's there. I know because I've seen it." Thenomain places the glass on the ground on the other side of the chalk line and begins to walk away from the door. He stops... turns around... points towards the fire. "In the fire, Fred." Timidly, the glass falls over and rolls into the fire. Thenomain shrugs and walks out the door. -=- -- Thenomain -- Kent Jenkins -- "I'm a figment of my own -- -- jenkins@osu-20.ircc.ohio-state.edu -- imagination, thank you." -Kaj -- -- kent-j@cis.ohio-state.edu -- Brainwave Turbulance, Inc. -- -- It's our lives, the U.S. Constitution! (Void where prohibited by Law) --