Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!usc!samsung!caesar.cs.montana.edu!milton!blake!unicorn!n8946177 From: n8946177@unicorn.WWU.EDU (Melissa Tabbifli) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Luru? Message-ID: <376@unicorn.WWU.EDU> Date: 10 Dec 89 22:12:26 GMT Reply-To: n8946177@unicorn.UUCP (Melissa Tabbifli) Distribution: alt Organization: Western Washington Univ, Bellingham Lines: 54 as the young man with strawberry hair talks, then leaves, the tabbifli perks her ears up, then sits up, then, as he begins to walk out the door, calls out "Luru?? Luru! wait!!" but he doesn't hear her, and continues going. when the door closes behind him, she takes to wing, and flutters above the pillow she had been sitting on, and looks around the room with a bewildered expression on her face. "he's a friend of mine - finnish, yes, but a friend nonetheless. i think i am the one that told him about here.. he is a person who *knows* hugs, and i thought he would be welcome here. i still do... now, if i can only find him." with that, there is a small ***poof*** and the place she had been became empty rather quickly. some time later, Melissa wandered back in the dorr, brushed snow off, and asked for another glass of wine. "i talked to him - i think he'll be back soon. it is a place i hope that he will be comfortable in." "a recent thread of discussion has been masks, and society. i agree that many people wear masks. i do not. Melissa Tabbifli is one person, Melissa and tabbi just two parts of that person. i don't think i have ever worn a mask unless i was hurting and wanted to keep from upsetting my friends - and it didn't usually work even then. ah, well. perhaps it is for that reason that i am not easily intimidated by much of anything." with that, she shimmered, and became the tabbifli again, and curled back up onto her pillow. "if you all don't mind, i think i'll just nap until my person gets here...." and with that ambigous statement, she apparently falls back asleep under the minstrating hands of all the wonderful people who have all adopted her. *purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr* *hug* - Melissa Tabbifli p.s. - a little bit of (*gasp*) Reality. a few of you may have decided to send a reply to my first post, and i have not answered you. the reason for this is quite simple - it never got to me. see, there was a small mix-up in machines in the reply-to line. the address for me is NOT uucp. it is -- n8946177@unicorn.wwu.edu i *will* try to catch this in the future.... i really do apologise for not catching it until it was pointed out to me. thanks to any and all who did take the time to reply to me - it really is appreciated. - m. t. Path: mit-eddie!wuarchive!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!rutgers!ucsd!ucsdhub!celit!kathy From: kathy@fps.com (the Rev. Mom) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: And may I introduce... Summary: ...my friend Robin Colgrove. Keywords: A hello. Message-ID: <5089@celit.fps.com> Date: 8 Dec 89 22:10:49 GMT References: <43385@bu-cs.BU.EDU> Sender: daemon@fps.com Reply-To: robin@ccb.ucsf.edu Distribution: alt.callahans Organization: FPS Computing Inc., San Diego CA Lines: 33 Hi. I'm posting this for a friend whose pnews keeps crunching lines with alt in them. His name is Robin Colgrove (robin@ccb.ucsf.edu). Please send replies to him. He's neat. --Kathy Li aka the Rev. Mom ======================================== From robin@ccb.ucsf.EDU Fri Dec 8 14:03:36 1989 A slightly goofy looking stranger strides into Callahan's, swaggers up to the bar and prepares to mezmerize the crowd with his eloquence and sagacity. He leans rakishly against the bartop and opens his mouth to declaim but -having mistakenly set his elbow down on an empty shot glass from the next stool over- slips along the edge of the bar, crashing to the ground and biting his tongue badly. Nimbly bouncing back up and hoping no one had noticed the pratfall, he smashes his head on the underside of the bar. He reaches stunned for some support from the barstool leg on his left, only to grab the attractive but unwilling knee of a startled young lady heretofore too deep in thought to notice. A swift kick sends him sprawling spread-eagle onto the nearest table, scattering chessmen hither and yon. His remaining momentum and growing confusion concerning the direction of the local gravitational vector propel him across the table and bring him finally to rest with a convincing THWOP fanny-first into an empty chair. "Yes, ahem, well. Now that I have your attention. Apologies for the unusual entrance. I've tried every trick I know and just can't get through directly. A Callahan's Regular asked me to drop in and enliven the atmosphere with my mature wisdom and, uhhh, polished poise. Right. Any minute now I'll think of something really deep...really, really like deep... don't rush me...I'm thinking...I think...I think I'll have a Guiness and a black coffee, Mike, and wait for my tongue to stop bleeding." With that, he finished the oration, fished a rook and two pawns from under his shirt, and started in on his beer. Path: mit-eddie!wuarchive!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!pt.cs.cmu.edu!andrew.cmu.edu!haste+ From: haste+@andrew.cmu.edu (Dani Zweig) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Fuzzies and Other People Message-ID: Date: 11 Dec 89 02:11:45 GMT Organization: Graduate School of Industrial Administration, Carnegie Mellon, Pittsburgh, PA Lines: 61 "...so you see, there are no contradictions. Since the carpet is more valuable than the bread by far, in this case the bread will fall butter-side up. It follows that you can't use this approach to generate a singularity." "Okay, that won't work, but let's get back to my original point: I still say that the troll was the true hero of the story. You have been arguing that the troll, through base motives, changed the Swabeedoo-dahs from a happy folk to an unhappy folk, and that this was, by any reasonable definition, an evil act." "I've also argued, on more than one occasion, that the proper thing to do when you've been shown to be wrong is to admit it, not to continue pursuing the argument from some completely foreign angle." The man in the tweed jacket spoke firmly, but his weathered features betrayed little optimism. "But you have to remember that the situation was never more than meta-stable", Dani blithely ignored the invitation to change the subject. "In your insistence upon casting the troll as the Snake in the garden, you're forgetting to cast Swabeedoo as the garden: Whether there was a snake or not, someone was *eventually* going to eat that apple. Whether there was a troll or not, some Swabeedoo-dah was eventually going to bring down *that* house of cards. Sure, the troll did that, but he was just as naive as the Swabeedoo-dahs, just as little able to foresee the consequences. And *unlike* them, he did make an effort -- however stumbling -- to find a solution." The older man signalled a momentary halt, went to the bar and brought back a Kahluah with cream. Perhaps if Dani had to make a choice between his Kahluah and his argument... "Thank you", said Dani, while sipping his drink. "Actually, a closer analogy might be between Swabeedoo and the 'state of nature' that enlightenment philosophers were so fond of talking about. After all, neither is posited to have existed: Both are thought experiments designed to help us consider the fair accompli which is our current society. And that's a society in which..." He was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder. "There are six of us about to start a game of Diplomacy, and looking for a seventh". The hand was connected to a chubby, slightly florid man in his mid-twenties. "Interested?" "Can I play Italy?" A rescue, mused Dani's companion, intercepting the wink which the chubby gamer sent his way. "Go, go", he responded to Dani's inquiring glance. We can continue this conversation another time. He settled comfortably into his chair and regarded his drink. 'Thought experiment'! He didn't much care for that, but sympathy was always appreciated. And he *had* learned a lot since those first mistakes. He reached into his pouch for a warm fuzzy to hand his departing friend; there didn't seem to be that many left. He gave Dani a warm, friendly smile instead, and returned to his drink. ----- Dani Zweig haste@andrew.cmu.edu The trouble with algebraic errors is that they tend to lead to corner solutions Disclaimer: University is supposed to be educational, so if after all these years I'm still saying something wrong or inappropriate, it is surely the fault of the university. Path: mit-eddie!bbn!bbn.com!fwebb From: fwebb@bbn.com (Fred Webb) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: A lurker speaks Message-ID: <49484@bbn.COM> Date: 11 Dec 89 14:24:26 GMT Sender: news@bbn.COM Reply-To: fwebb@BBN.COM (Fred Webb) Distribution: alt Organization: Bolt Beranek and Newman Inc., Cambridge MA Lines: 75 A hush falls over the Place, a lull in the usual hubbub of conversation. A young man leaves a table in the corner, where he had been seated with another, bespectacled man who has been variously described as "A Mafia hit man" and "What I always thought MIT professors should look like." He sidles over to Fast Eddie, who nods, smiling wanly. He strides towards the bar. "A cream soda, Michael, if you please." The frothy beverage is before him in an instant, and he withdraws a tattered single. He is dressed in jeans, a Metallica T-shirt, and a flannel shirt over that, and he strides uncomfortably to the chalk line, downing the glass and pitching it, looking not unlike Roger Clemens in his delivery. Exactly on cue, Eddie begins the back and forth progressions of Billy Joel's "Summer, Highland Falls". In an unclear, wavering voice that gains stability as he progresses, the young man sings: They say that these are not the best of times But they're the only times I've ever known And I believe there is a time for meditation In cathedrals of our own Now I've seen that sad surrender in my lover's eyes I can only stand apart and sympathize For we are always what our situations hand us It's either sadness or euphoria So we'll argue and we'll compromise And realize that nothings ever changed For all our mutual experience Our seperate conclusions are the same Now we are forced to recognize our inhumanity And reason coexists with our insanity And though we choose between reality and madness It's either sadness or euphoria How thoughtlessly we disipate our energies Perhaps we don't fulfill each other's fantasies And as we stand upon the ledges of our lives With our respective similarities Its either sadness or euphoria [Copyright 1976 and 1979 Blackwood Music, Inc. (BMI). Can be found on "Turnstiles" (1976) or (live) on "Songs In The Attic" (1980). Used irresponsibly without any hint of permission.] Eddie finishes the tune beautifully, letting the last notes hang in the air before the Place applauds modestly. When the cheers have died, the young man says modestly, "Um, I forgot my, uh, toast. To love, sex, SF, CS, Billy Joel, God, or whatever sets off your chimes. May we all find our own Nirnan ... er ... Nirvanas? ... Nirvani? ... Whatever. Peace, love, and double play grounders late in the game when you really need one." The young man, flannel shirt flapping in the draft, fades back into the corner, so that all that can be seen is the day-glo letters on the T-shirt. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- [Please note: This is an irresponsible, dashed off posting from an observer of alt.callahans, (through the miracle of hard copy brought home by my dad (the "bespectacled" gent above)) so I guess I can be communicated with through whatever address this is. (I know exactly nothing about the system.) Should anyone so desire, that is.] ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Mike Webb "Now go away or I shall taunt you a second time!" Mass College of Pharmacy -- MP and the Holy Grail and Allied Health Science Reply to fwebb@bbn.com -- Fred Path: mit-eddie!rutgers!cs.utexas.edu!uunet!image.soe.clarkson.edu!news From: gary@sun.mcs.clarkson.edu (Gary Levin) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Message-ID: Date: 11 Dec 89 21:03:08 GMT References: <129010@sun.Eng.Sun.COM> <11360@csli.Stanford.EDU> <1989Dec9.054205.15710@agate.berkeley.edu> Sender: news@sun.soe.clarkson.edu Organization: Clarkson University, Potsdam NY Lines: 24 In-reply-to: gsmith@garnet.berkeley.edu's message of 9 Dec 89 05:42:05 GMT In article <1989Dec9.054205.15710@agate.berkeley.edu> gsmith@garnet.berkeley.edu (Gene W. Smith) writes: gsmith>In article <11360@csli.Stanford.EDU>, cphoenix@csli (Chris Phoenix) writes: >I think I speak for all of us... you're accepted here. Have a seat, join >a conversation, make another friend. Welcome to Callahan's! gsmith> Is it OK if I'm an obnoxious drunk? The usual response to an obnoxious drunk at Callahan's is to help them home and hope to find out why they are obnoxious next time, when their minds are a little clearer. Usually only those who need and can be helped show up (in the books). The alternative (for the Net incarnation) would seem to be to ignore them, easily done with the omniously named KILL files. I'd rather not send someone to Coventry, so please try to avoid being obnoxious. One of the joys of Callahan's is knowing that one can drop in and not see flames (outside of the fireplace), even when emotions run high. -- Gary Levin/Dept of Math & CS/Clarkson Univ/Potsdam, NY 13676/(315) 268-2384 BitNet: gary@clutx Internet: gary@clutx.clarkson.edu Path: mit-eddie!wuarchive!cs.utexas.edu!jarvis.csri.toronto.edu!utgpu!watserv1!watdragon!rose!jmsankey From: jmsankey@rose.waterloo.edu (Sharkey) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Montreal Message-ID: <19178@watdragon.waterloo.edu> Date: 11 Dec 89 21:10:41 GMT Sender: daemon@watdragon.waterloo.edu Reply-To: jmsankey@rose.waterloo.edu (Sharkey) Organization: U. of Waterloo, Ontario Lines: 25 Jim is a man with some problems. He has spent some time in a dark corner listening to others make toasts, but feels he has nothing to say ... nothing of any importance. Until now. Slowly, tentatively, he comes out of the protective shadows and approaches the bar. "May I have fifteen shots of whisky, please Mike?" and places a clean Canadian 20 dollar bill on the bar. He arranges fourteen of the shots in a line and picks up the fifteenth. He ignores the change Mike has left near the drinks. Jim walks to the line, his hands shaking slightly. "To the 14 women massacred in Montreal. May God have mercy on their souls." A single tear rolls down his cheek as he slowly downs the liquor. When finished, he walks to the fire and carefully places the empty shotglass among the coals, heedless of the flames. As he walks back to his seat, Jim announces to any who care to listen, "The other shots are for any of you who would like to honour the fallen." As he settles back in his chair, Jim reflects on how trivial his problems now seem. Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!usc!wuarchive!decwrl!shelby!neon!bthomas From: bthomas@Neon.Stanford.EDU (Becky Thomas) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Montreal Message-ID: <1989Dec11.230838.1655@Neon.Stanford.EDU> Date: 11 Dec 89 23:08:38 GMT References: <19178@watdragon.waterloo.edu> Sender: USENET News System Organization: Computer Science Department, Stanford University Lines: 30 In article <19178@watdragon.waterloo.edu> jmsankey@rose.waterloo.edu (Sharkey) writes: > > As he walks back to his seat, Jim announces to any who care to listen, >"The other shots are for any of you who would like to honour the fallen." > > As he settles back in his chair, Jim reflects on how trivial his >problems now seem. A lurker stands up in her corner and walks to the bar to pick up one of the remaining shots. She walks carefully over to the line, moving slowly, not spilling any of the shot. When she gets to the line she blinks a few times, takes a deep breath, and says, "Amen, and thanks, Jim. In memory of those women and all the others who have been similarly killed, men and women, children and adults. May these horrible things not cause yet more divisions among us." She drinks, returns the glass to Mike, and asks him to use the 50 cents for some appropriate cause, since she can't think of one. Looking somber, she goes over to sit near Jim, and returns to silence. Becky -- -- Becky Thomas bthomas@cs.stanford.edu Path: mit-eddie!wuarchive!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!pt.cs.cmu.edu!andrew.cmu.edu!gh1g+ From: gh1g+@andrew.cmu.edu (Gregg Fielding Hinderstein) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Montreal Message-ID: Date: 11 Dec 89 23:46:40 GMT References: <19178@watdragon.waterloo.edu> Organization: Class of '91, Carnegie Mellon, Pittsburgh, PA Lines: 4 In-Reply-To: <19178@watdragon.waterloo.edu> I'll take one...may we someday see a world without senseless killing...of anything Gregg Path: mit-eddie!wuarchive!uunet!microsoft!t-phils From: t-phils@microsoft.UUCP (the Eternal Stranger) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Jilara Speaks (Relationships II) Message-ID: <9406@microsoft.UUCP> Date: 11 Dec 89 22:31:27 GMT References: <43971@bu-cs.BU.EDU> Reply-To: t-phils@microsoft.UUCP (the Eternal Stranger) Distribution: alt Organization: Microsoft Corp., Redmond WA Lines: 30 Jilara's toast: | ... she raises her glass to the room, and her voice raises to a | force that echos, "To Cowardice, the courage of fools! And to all of us | who dare to live, despite everything! Slante!" CRASH! "I'll second that. The second half of it, anyway." Phil/Alaric (looking somewhat unfocussed, kind of half-and-half one and the other, raises his glass. "There's been many a time in my life - particularly in recent months - when things have been particularly difficult for me, and I've doubted myself so much I've wondered whether I can go on. But give me a little time, and something comes up from inside - the part of me that cannot, _will_ not, accept defeat. The fire comes back, and I draw strength from it to go on again. When I fall into despair, I question my own right to live, I question what right I have to impose my failed and imperfect existence on the world. But then when I rise up again, I ask instead what right the world has to impose on me its judgement of what I should be - and I decide that if the world cannot accept what I am, then it is the world that is at fault. In despair, I question whether it is worth continuing to live... but after I break free of that despair, then I proclaim that I _will_ live - if not with the blessing of this world, then in spite of it!" He stands and drains his glass. "To the courage that gives us the strength to defy the world, and go on living despite all that fate can do to us! Never yield!" -- Phil Stracchino t-phils@microsoft.UUCP Eternal Stranger and Digital Renaissance Man for hire _______________________________________________________________________ `The biggest drawback to being a Renaissance man in the 20th century is that you automatically become an anachronism. The 20th century has no real place or use for a Renaissance man, particularly a digital one.' Path: mit-eddie!bu-cs!lll-winken!uwm.edu!wuarchive!rex!keating From: keating@rex.cs.tulane.edu (John W. Keating) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Montreal Message-ID: <1658@rex.cs.tulane.edu> Date: 12 Dec 89 00:56:25 GMT References: <19178@watdragon.waterloo.edu> Reply-To: keating@rex.UUCP (John W. Keating) Organization: Computer Science Dept., Tulane Univ., New Orleans, LA Lines: 12 Summary: Expires: Sender: Followup-To: Distribution: Keywords: Another Lurker rises from a table... He picks up a glass and adds: To the young women, but also to those like the young man, that they may find a Callahan's for themselves before they respond in such a way. -- ****************************************************************************** * Internet: keating@rex.cs.tulane.edu * /== Tulane * * * Usenet: ...!pyramid!rex!keating * ==== Green * John * * Bitnet: cs6hecu@tcsvm * ====== Wave!! * Keating * * CIS: Hmmm... cantremember... * =========== * * *****************************************************************************