Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!usc!apple!agate!ucbvax!goldfarb@ocf.berkeley.edu From: goldfarb@ocf.berkeley.edu (David Goldfarb) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Punday night Message-ID: <33229@ucbvax.BERKELEY.EDU> Date: 15 Dec 89 07:28:09 GMT References: <20940009@hplred.HP.COM> <20940010@hplred.HP.COM> Sender: usenet@ucbvax.BERKELEY.EDU Reply-To: goldfarb@.Berkeley.EDU (David Goldfarb) Organization: University of California, Berkeley Lines: 9 In article <20940010@hplred.HP.COM> egly@hplred.HP.COM (Diana Egly) writes: )Unless you let FLY the puns, I'm going to DOG each and every one of you. You are adder your mind if you think you can cow us. David Goldfarb goldfarb@ocf.berkeley.edu (Insert standard disclaimer) "Do you think 5 pages is long enough for a final paper, or should I increase the size of the letters?" --Benn Herrera Path: mit-eddie!rutgers!usc!samsung!uunet!psivax!ttidca!hollombe From: hollombe@ttidca.TTI.COM (The Polymath) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Silver John and a jam session Message-ID: <8479@ttidca.TTI.COM> Date: 14 Dec 89 19:59:21 GMT Reply-To: hollombe@ttidca.tti.com (The Polymath) Distribution: alt Organization: Citicorp/TTI, Santa Monica Lines: 55 The door of Callahan's place opens and a traveller comes in. He is a big man, dressed in jeans and a homespun work shirt, a guitar slung across his back. "Nice place, here," says the big man, unslinging his guitar. "Been meaning to visit for a long time. I've heard tell of it. And heard that Fast Eddie plays a mean piano. I think we can have a great jam session, here. I brought my silver-strung guitar, and a friend says he may join us in a while." He extends a hand to Mike Callahan. "Call me John. Some call me Silver John, 'cause of my silver-strung guitar. I was passing through the vicinity and thought I'd stop by. Normally, I don't get much out of the mountains, but..." He grins, shaking hands with Callahan. "I was passing through, and heard this was a special place. I brought a friend I thought might like it, too. I was passing some time by the road, when this fella heard me, and asked if he could join in with me. Said he wanted to come along, when I said I was stopping by here. Said he might see some friends. Said he'd show up later, because he was passing through, and couldn't stay. I think Callahan's is going to have quite a jam session tonight! He seems to pick a mean banjo, and is rather handy with a fiddle and guitar, too." Fast Eddie grins, and breaks into a jumping medley of Scott Joplin tunes. "I'm ready and rearing to go," he says. "Well, then..." says John, and unslings his guitar. The jam session goes wild, and everyone is tapping toes and grinning. Jilara starts to do some Appalachian step-dancing. A banjo suddenly joins in the medley, adding its perky tones to John's silver-strung guitar and Fast Eddie's piano. "Hot damn, now we got music!" says John, and the instruments merge into a fast breakdown. The new arrival is in a dark corner, a slight man, dressed in jeans and a western shirt, a stetson on his head. His eyes have crinkles of pain and laughter, and he plays a mean banjo. He wears an old Renaissance doublet like a jacket, its surface made of many different bands of fabric, a veritable Jacob's coat of patchwork stripes. Jilara stares hard at him for a moment, shakes her head. "That's the fellow I met on the road," Silver John says, nodding. "Glad you could make it." "Of course," he says with a smile. "Jilara always promised to step-dance for me, so I had to hold her to her word." Mike Callahan frowns a little, looking at the banjo player. "Can't quite see you too clearly, fella," he says. "What did you say your name was?" "Tis Strypes," he says with a smile. "Sorry I can only stay a little while. I was on my way to somewhere else, but it's hard to resist a good jam session..." And as everyone watches, he fades away... Silver John looks meditative. "He did say he was on his way to somewhere else..." [Posted for Jilara by:] -- The Polymath (aka: Jerry Hollombe, hollombe@ttidca.tti.com) Illegitimis non Citicorp(+)TTI Carborundum 3100 Ocean Park Blvd. (213) 450-9111, x2483 Santa Monica, CA 90405 {csun | philabs | psivax}!ttidca!hollombe Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!brutus.cs.uiuc.edu!caesar.cs.montana.edu!milton!blake!unicorn!n8946177 From: n8946177@unicorn.WWU.EDU (Melissa Tabbifli) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: A little bit of Pain Keywords: It's a bit long.... Message-ID: <383@unicorn.WWU.EDU> Date: 15 Dec 89 12:41:07 GMT Reply-To: n8946177@unicorn.wwu.edu (Melissa Tabbifli) Followup-To: alt.callahans Distribution: alt Organization: Western Washington Univ, Bellingham Lines: 82 The Tabbifli nearly died, today. Not a physical death, but a spritual one.... The kitten leaps out of Luru's arms where she had been resting, and, in mid-leap, transforms into Melissa. For what seems to be the first time, many of the people there see her as she is - 5'8", with long brown hair, and sad grey eyes. Dressed in a pair of jeans and a sweater with grey roses, she looks much like any other 19 year old female - with the exception of the eyes. 'Yes, I nearly killed the Tabbifli. It was a case of trying to destroy one part of me to keep it from feeling the pain of the rest... the fact that it would have killed my entire self did not matter much at that point. Fortunately,' she stops here to take a breath, and to pull back the tears, 'I had Taldin.. and Steve.. and Moonchilde.. and Luru.. and GEM all with me, and they, one way or another, made me realize that the Tabbifli is very loved, and would be missed. While I do not much care if I am hurt, I cannot willingly cause the pain of another....' 'You see, things are not always wonderful. I have a father that has decided that I am a pretty young female - and has tried what many males try and do with pretty young females. My step-father has done the same. I have failed one of my classes in school - and there is no way that I will be allowed to return - the fact that I am a first quarter freshthing should make no difference, in my father's opinion - I should still be getting above average grades. So I will have that possibility taken away. My net access may very well go with it - although I will fight to find some way to remain attached to the net. Some money was stolen from me by my roommate's friend - although she was the one who first realized it **must** be him - because there was no one else with access to it, she deperately wants to believe he is innocent - and I don't blame her. I also fought with my father - he is angry because I do not pay enough attention to him, that I have not called him - as if I have had time with finals! As if he *ever* tried to call me... but it seems that I must pay *all* attention to him, or else he feels that I am uncaring, and thoughtless of him.. and tells me so. I am still amazed that he has not hit me. He tells me to trust him, and then, when I am happy, he does some little, spiteful thing that upsets everything.. he is suicidal, and expects *me* to be able to help him - and gets angry that I cannot, because I *do not* understand what he is going through.' 'Most of this I could have handled - or have been handling, as the case may be - if it had been separate. As it is, *everything* descended upon me at once, and I could not handle it. The Tabbifli took the worst of it, I fear.... ' 'Without Tabbifli, there is no Melissa. I thank my friends above, as well as others, for helping me realize this. However, Tabbifli has to take a break for a while.. the pain is still too great....' *sigh* 'I apologise for rambling on like this.. I will be better in a small while. I would like to say, though, that due to my leaving school, I have no idea how long my e-mail address will be valid - or even when I will be able to check it again. It will stay to the end of December/beginning of January - I hope to have some sort of alternate net link worked out, and will be able to get to my files then. But if any would like to get in touch with me, my address and phone are: Melissa Kell 25411 212th Place SE (For those with my school address, Maple Valley, WA 98038 it will be forwarded) USA (206) 432-0799 (not between 9pm and 7am PST - I *do* have parents) I hope to have some sort of e-mail address soon, otherwise send it as per norm, and pray *real hard* I get it. I am heart-tired, my friends. 5000 miles is rough on a love - especially when the one you love also happens to be a part of you. Forgive me my depression, and allow me a little rest, if you will - I think I have never needed Callahans as much before. Thank you all for being here.' With that, Melissa picks up her wine, and moves to an empty chair by the fireplace, curls up, and stares into the fire, silently disallowing the tears to fall.... (oh, yes.. would it be possible for someone to mail me callahans over the break? from 12/15/89 to 1/7/90... otherwise i won't get it.) Path: mit-eddie!bu-cs!ckd From: ckd@bu-pub.bu.edu (Christopher Davis) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Irregular Periodic Welcome Message-ID: <44713@bu-cs.BU.EDU> Date: 15 Dec 89 14:55:45 GMT Sender: daemon@bu-cs.BU.EDU Reply-To: ckd@bu-pub.bu.edu (Christopher Davis) Distribution: alt Organization: Boston University School of Management Lines: 62 [Monthly postings are too organized for the Place :-] [This is an irregularly-posted periodic welcome; anything of this nature will have REPOST in the header so people can skip it after a while. Suggestions for additions and changes are more than welcome. --ckd] What is Callahan's Place? It's the stfnal bar that is the site of the stories in Spider Robinson's _Callahan's Crosstime Saloon_, _Time Travelers Strictly Cash_ (a good portion of it, anyway), and _Callahan's Secret_. I believe the stories have also been collected in an omnibus edition called _Callahan and Company_, but I haven't seen this one on shelves yet. There's also another book set in the same universe, _Callahan's Lady_, which takes place *before* _Callahan's Secret_ but is, IMHO, better read after _Secret_. What's Callahan's Place like, and why a newsgroup? It's "a merry place," full of puns, dart games, "fireplace toasts" (more on these later) and lots of people willing to listen. Oh, and tall tales, talking dogs, alien invaders, time travelers... Why a newsgroup? Several reasons, really... * to discuss Spider and his works-- (including the rather hard-to-find _Antinomy_, which was just being published when Dell decided to drop SF completely, and which I managed to find a copy of--after a while); * to tell Tall Tales and have Punday nights-- Punday Nights all have a theme [e.g. "electricity"] and all the puns have to relate to it. If you can't come up with a pun when it's your turn, you lose. The puns can be rather revolting at times--shocking, really--but it's usually a current topic. If you see watt I mean. * to act as a temporary "talk.problems"-- Callahan's is a place full of listeners; "in some bars, the bartender will listen to your troubles; here, we all share the load." The First Law of Callahan's Place is that shared pain is lessened, but shared joy is increased. * to have fireplace toasts (told you I'd get back to these!)-- The drinks at Callahan's Place are all fifty cents. You pay a dollar, and if you give your glass back you get a fifty-cent refund... or you can "toast the fireplace." There's a throwing line, and you stand there, recite your toast, then hurl the glass into the fireplace. Works wonders, sometimes. * and to give the alt.net something a little better than the latest rash of alt.frivolous-froups [alt.sex.carasso? Give me a *break*!]. Time--and the altnet sysadmins--will tell me if I've done the job. Enjoy. Post in good health. And remember, once again... "The beauty of a pun is in the 'Oy!' of the beholder." -- Christopher Davis, BU SMG '90 "Many verbal attacks are part of someone's aim to establish their rank in a dominance hierarchy, the same sort of behavior common among nesting fowl." --Daniel Mocsny Path: mit-eddie!bu-cs!lll-winken!brutus.cs.uiuc.edu!usc!samsung!rex!uflorida!beach.cis.ufl.edu!johnnyb From: johnnyb@beach.cis.ufl.edu (John Berlo) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: A little bit of Pain Message-ID: <21488@uflorida.cis.ufl.EDU> Date: 15 Dec 89 18:01:31 GMT References: <383@unicorn.WWU.EDU> Sender: news@uflorida.cis.ufl.EDU Reply-To: johnnyb@beach.cis.ufl.edu () Distribution: alt Organization: UF CIS Department Lines: 75 Keywords: It's a bit long.... As the Tabbifli settles down with her wine, a cool wind begins to form from the center of the room. A presence is felt by all, but none can locate it's origins. Through the door, out into the distance, a bright and secluded shape is seen approaching the bar. The seclusion seems to caused by a dark cloud surrounding this figure. As the figure approaches, a feeling of dispair fills the room and the wind picks up. 'Greetings and salutations!' calls the stranger as he enters the bar. 'I have decided to make myself known to all, although most of you know me in one form or another.' The stranger approaches the bar and orders a Russian Quaalude. With one swift swallow he downs the drink. He then looks at the glass, caringly, and then ,almost sadly, tosses it in the fileplace. He then strolls over to the table of the Tabbifli. 'Some of you have seen my articles here and on alt.sex and have probably wondered what is inside this person. A romantic I have been and will always be, but depression and suicide have been a part of my life. What you see here is chronologically 19 years old, but is mentally and emotionally much older. I might be of average height (5'10") and average weight, but one close look will show that I am much more than I appear. One gaze into my deep blue eyes, and you will see the immediate contrast to my brown hair. You will also see the pain and suffering of many people and many years. Inside I carry the emotions and feelings of many people along with myself. It is a skill that I treasure to be able to emotionally feel and understand problems that other people have. This ability I will always treasure, but it almost killed me.' 'You see,(looks down at the Tabbifli)I too have had a few bouts with suicide. I am one who used to keep everything inside and let it eat away at me. I can blame my parents as well for my problems, at least some of them. When I was younger, much younger, I was punished as most kids are, but the methods were different.(Tears begin to form in this figure's eyes) See, instead of being spanked, I was thrown across the house and beaten. This is why I became so drawn in. I know that people could see the inner core of depression, but no-one seemed to want to help. The only real pleasure I could get was to help others. Even though I did not have many friends thru school, people would feel comfortabe telling me their problems. Even the most popular would tell me what was eating them inside. By listening and giving advice, I helped them, but it would start eating me away because I could not understand why people would treat others that way.' The figure begins to pace around the room. 'To put it into a nutshell, I have tried suicide about 6 times so far, and I finally decided that I had enough. I began seeing a psychologist early this semester when things got REALLY bad. I am proud to say that now I am fine. I have finally realized who I really am. I am not the hard and unloving person that many thought, but rather I am a very loving, caring, and understanding person. I am currently without a partner, but I'm looking for that special woman to share in my life.' 'This cloud that you see around me is what remains of my dreary past. It is still disipating, and soon it will be gone so that by bright interior can shine without hinderance. I still enjoy talking with people and helping them, but now I can put everything in it's place and understand it all. It no longer gets to me as bad, but I still worry about mankind at times...but who doesn't.' 'I thank all of you for giving me this time to talk to you. If you ever need anything (and I do mean anything), feel free to drop me a line. I'd enjoy talking to any of you. And Melissa, look up; the sky might be gray, but a bit of me will always be with you. Don't be afraid to call on me, I'll be listening. (looks up) That goes for the rest of you too.' 'Well, I must be off, finals call. I'll always be around. A bit of me lives in all of you.' With those final words, the figure vanishes. As the last of the wind dissipates, a voice echos thru the bar:'I almost forgot, I'm John, but you might see me around on IRC or Forum or Relay as Guido. An remember, I am there.' As the people in the bar go back to what they were doing, they feel something. Perhaps, he is still here... -- Romance isn't dead....it is hibernating in the coldness on mankind. John J Berlo-----johnnyb@beach.cis.ufl.edu compwiz@ufoak compwiz%oak.decnet@ufpine.circa.ufl.edu The University of Florida---Sports you can bet on! Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!pt.cs.cmu.edu!andrew.cmu.edu!mw33+ From: mw33+@andrew.cmu.edu (Mark Alan Weaver) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Last Romantic Message-ID: Date: 15 Dec 89 00:05:18 GMT References: <21449@uflorida.cis.ufl.EDU> Organization: Carnegie Mellon, Pittsburgh, PA Lines: 26 In-Reply-To: <21449@uflorida.cis.ufl.EDU> Well John, i would have to agree with you....I am one of the "lost romantics." I love giving flowers and taking long walks in the woods and stargazing and sitting by the fireplace (when it is lit) and just enjoying each other. I do believe that a lot of people aren't that way anymore. Many women, i think, really do enjoy a romantic, but are afraid to admit it. then again we all know of some that just want to sleep with you...it is hard to find a romantic girl that will admit it to you and when you do find one...they are wonderful...really. i have just had an "experience" with one and they are very hard to let go of...very hard indeed. i think so because they are hard to find and you just love them to death.... not that i don't love her because i do...it just adds to the emotions and all. I am probably making no sense whatsoever so i will stop it here...bye all.. long live the romantics.. and i agree with your line about romance not being dead......... mark a. weaver mw33+@andrew.cmu.edu Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.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: Hi folks Message-ID: Date: 15 Dec 89 03:43:21 GMT Organization: Class of '92, Carnegie Mellon, Pittsburgh, PA Lines: 42 New face at the bar here. My first thought when I realized what this Place was "How can that happen?" (That's not really accurate. My *first* thought was probably "Yeeccccccccchhhh!" at the set of atrocities in the "Callahan's" story in the _Analog_ I was reading. The first *relevant* (to this discussion) thought was a few years later, when I was feeling *rather* alone and depressed, and read _Callahan's Crosstime Saloon_ all the way through -- twice -- and realized that I suddenly had a better opinion of humanity in general than I had ever had before. ) But "How can that happen?" was what I thought when I heard about the Place on the Net. It was, of course, followed by "Well *why*not*?" There is a need for such a Place in our society, and someone decided it ought to be here, and so it was. (The next thought was to kick myself for not thinking of it first. This could have been started *years* ago, and why didn't it? A general attitude of "Oh, yeah, Callahan's is a great story, but it couldn't happen in real life."? How *stupid* we can be... (I include myself in that, of course; I *know* I held that attitude -- totally subconsciously.)) Now I ought to apologize, for not reading the backlog of 350 messages on here. I've jumped around, reading bits. I have the time to read it all (I could spend the next 18 hours straight reading messages if I wanted to). But, well, I'm going home for break in a week, and when I get back there'll be another 500 messages. And I don't know if I have the strength to absorb all that in two gulps. I mean (backing out of cliches) I could do it, but it would be an effort. Listening to people is hard work. It would be rewarding, but I don't think I want to. This may be dumb of me. Probably is. I'll make up for it (to myself, you understand) by joining alt.callahans -- for real -- after holiday break. For now, I'll just sit somewhere and doze. Feel free to toss a tablecloth over me if you need an extra table. --Z Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!usc!cs.utexas.edu!uunet!image.soe.clarkson.edu!jk0 From: jk0@image.soe.clarkson.edu (Jason Coughlin) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Tall Tales Message-ID: <1989Dec15.191936.14430@sun.soe.clarkson.edu> Date: 15 Dec 89 19:19:36 GMT References: Sender: jk0@sun.soe.clarkson.edu (Jason Coughlin) Organization: Clarkson University, Potsdam, NY Lines: 82 A red-headed stranger walks into Callahans, slides up to the bar, and lays out a crisp, new one dollar bill [it was payday on Wed]. "I'll take a Molson Golden in a chilled glass, please, " says the young stranger. "Can I see some id?" replies Mike. "Umm, make that a coke with no ice. I'm driving." As I sip my coke, I overhear the conversation of a gay crowd in the middle of the bar. I don't hear too much of the conversation - something about a diet and lots of groans and laughter. I approach the crowd and overhear "You can't reach an oat bog with Tru sticks." I moan, but the punch line reminds me of a pun I heard from a good friend. I slam the rest of my coke, wipe my mouth on my sleeve, and throw the glass into the fireplace. "A long, long time ago," I begin, "there was a mystical place surrounded by high mountains. It was the home of the Trids, a dwarf-like but very sophisticated people entirely cut off from society as we know it. They were a self-sufficient race, plowing their fields, tending their gardens, and squeezing grapes into wine. It was probably the closest thing to Utopia. However, even as Eden was spoiled and the Gold age passed to the Silver age, the younger generation longed to pass over the mountains and see more of their world. At the next council of the elders, they brought their ambition to the attention of the village, making the argument that trade would benefit the economy and the people. Finally, the elders decided that they would send out a search party to find the outside world and bring back as much information as they could. A party of five Trids was sent the next day. Weeks passed and still no one had returned. Finally, the younger Trids called a council of the elders to decide what to do. They decided to send out another search party to look for the first search party. So, a search party of ten Trids was immediately dispatched. Again, months passed without any word from either of the search parties. The council of the elders was again brought into session. Much distraught at their losses, they asked the local Rabbi what they should. The Rabbi thought a few moments then said, 'I think we should send just one more search party, and I will volunteer to be the leader. Perhaps our search parties have offended our God.' So a third search party was formed, and after each Trid took a large gulp of wine, it disembarked. As it happened, the one way out of the valley was to follow the river out of the village and between the mountains. The Trids walked along the riverbank discussing what the oldside world would be like. They had been walking for a couple of hours when a HUGE giant jumped out from behind a boulder, ran up and kicked the leading the Trid. The poor Trid was hurled into the river by the mighty blow where he promptly drowned. The other Trids scattered, but the Giant found and kicked them all into the river. Only the Rabbi was safe because he has climbed up a tree. When the giant saw that all of the Trids but the Rabbi (whom he could not reach) were dead, he retreated a ways and sat down, blocking the entrance to the outside world. Shaken, the Rabbi waited for several hours in the tall tree, hoping that the giant would grow weary and go home. Finally, the nervous Rabbie decided that he would rather drown that starve to death. So he slowly climbed down the tree. The giant watched the Rabbi with a big grin on his face but didn't move from his spot. The Rabbi took a few steps forward then stopped, looking cautiously at the giant. But, the giant didn't even twitch. The Rabbi bolted, but the giant just sat there. When he realized that he wasn't being followed, the Rabbi sat down to think about why he had been spared. Curious, he went to the place where the giant sat. 'Aren't you going to chase me and kick me?' asked the Rabbi. The giant looked at the Rabbi and laughed, 'Silly Rabbi, kicks are for Trids!'" With that, the red-headed stranger jumped out of his chair and ran for the door, laughing .... -- Jason Coughlin ( jk0@sun.soe.clarkson.edu , jk0@clutx ) "Every jumbled pile of person has a thinking part that wonders what the part that isn't thinking isn't thinking of." - They Might Be Giants Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!usc!hacgate!lori From: lori@hacgate.scg.hac.com (Lori Barfield) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: The Answer, Of Course, Is 42 Message-ID: <6460@hacgate.scg.hac.com> Date: 15 Dec 89 19:49:31 GMT References: <6424@hacgate.UUCP> <6425@hacgate.UUCP> Reply-To: lori@hacgate.UUCP (Lori Barfield) Organization: Hughes Aircraft Co., El Segundo, CA Lines: 50 Hey, Mike, I just received the first response to my puzzler, so my mailer is finally up! Tell the guys that line seven is indeed correct: > sorce of the last bug in any program _ E _ In the interest of fairness, here is the reply I sent to Phil S. about it: The 'E' is ligit-- I mention it in my first post as "the OCI" (Obligatory Callahanian Inconsistency). ;-) That means there was no graceful way to spell "Robinson" correctly while sticking to the computer theme *and* providing the "twist" (which, BTW, you obviously haven't gotten yet....heh heh heh). BTW, Phil has *almost* got it.... (heh heh heh) And, Mike, remind them that I corrected line six by adding a blank: > nerd personality trait _ _ _ _ _ S _ _ _ _ _ _ Here is the complete and correct puzzle again (complete with OCI): clock chip technology _ _ _ R _ _ XXX compile time reading material _ _ _ _ _ O _ _ _ link B _ _ _ remove trailing blanks _ _ I _ type of variable _ _ _ N _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ nerd personality trait _ _ _ _ _ S _ _ _ _ _ _ sorce of the last bug in any program _ E _ VAX communication link _ _ _ N _ _ ...lori (heh heh heh....) Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!ucbvax!HPLABS.HP.COM!egly%hplred From: egly%hplred@HPLABS.HP.COM (Diana Egly) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Notes to the Cynic Message-ID: Date: 15 Dec 89 22:07:27 GMT Sender: daemon@ucbvax.BERKELEY.EDU Lines: 81 Unnoticed by the crowd at callahans, I wander over and look at the Cynic's message. I too have been called a cynic in my day. A bit later people notice the message is gone and I am scribbling (with a VERY fine-line pen) on something, which I put back up on the bulletin board. It reads as follows: > I am known as the Cynic. I heard about this place; a place where > one can come to discuss ideas with people who will not flame > merely because the ideas are different. I wonder if it is true. I will try -- I think we all will try -- to listen and to understand. To understand how you've reached the conclusions that you have. I'm not perfect, I may fail you, but I'll try not to. But please, don't walk out the door again without dropping by my table for a drink. I'll buy. > Is there a place in this bar for a devil's advocate? I'm not sure what a devil's advocate at callahans would be? Someone who didn't beleive that people can and do care about each other? For someone like that there is room. Someone who occasionally enjoys taking a contrary position for the joy of discussion? As long as they know how to do it without applying heat, I'd hope they were welcomed. For someone who find that their ideas and thoughts are often just plain different from other people? Ah... There are a lot of us at Callahans like that. > Is it possible to empathise and disagree simultaneously? I *hope* so. Otherwise I'm in lots of trouble myself as a self-deluded hypocrite. Empathy is the ability to understand the other's feeling, even if you don't agree or approve. Several years ago I had a six-week old baby in my house after her father had hit her. At first, all I felt was condemnation and disapproval for a man who would batter a tiny babe. But eventually -- with the help of child protective services and the volunteer agency I was attached to -- and after spending a lot of time listening to the mother (and to people who'd talked to the father), I finally understood his motivation -- his perspective. I'll never approve of what he did, nor do I want for another child to be anywhere near him in the future. But I can understand, and empathize, and disagree and even disapprove all simultaneously. I'd say it's possible. > Can one represent opposing viewpoints without flaming? I've seen it done. > Is there enough common humanity between the empathic people > of this bar and a man who has grown to have little but > contempt for humanity to make meaningful communication > possible? Cynic, to have grown to have little but contempt for humanity, suggests that you have seen some of the worst that people can do. Terrible things happen, people do terrible things to other people, it happens more often than most reasonable people can bear. If you know this, then you have much in common with some of the people at Callahan's. Some of us have seen this and as a result of it have chosen to be different. Empathy is not idealism; it's not an unfamiliarity with the way that much of the world operates. Caring, compassion, is a choice that we make when we've learned to feel the effects produced by the alternate choices. It'S something we do as much for our own survival as for yours. > I will leave with a toast: > > A toast to pride > I drink a toast dignity. > > A toast to cool, calculated self-reliance > And cold, hard chains for empathy. > > I drink to independence and survival > I drink no toast to luxury. > > I empty the glass to realism > That leaves no room for sympathy. > > And as I taste the last libation > I bow my head in resignation. > > > The Cynic