Newsgroups: alt.callahans Path: mit-eddie!bloom-beacon!athena.mit.edu!sm From: sm@athena.mit.edu (Sherry Modestino) Subject: Another newcomer Message-ID: <1989Dec22.161344.16641@athena.mit.edu> Summary: Hello Sender: news@athena.mit.edu (News system) Reply-To: sm@space.mit.edu (Sherry Modestino) Organization: MIT Center for Space Research References: <20940020@hplred.HP.COM> Date: Fri, 22 Dec 89 16:13:44 GMT Lines: 25 From out of one of the many corners, a fog drifts slowly towards the bar...a voice emerges, and a dollar bill, "A vodka and water, please." Mike, non-plussed as ever, gives her (yes, it is a female voice) a tall glass. She drinks slowly (it may be hard for fogs to drink) and when finished drifts towards the fireplace... Quietly, she raises her glass "Sorry to be so undifferentiated, but it's been a busy time lately, and if I'm going to have a persona (that comes out in public), it's going to be a good one. But I didn't want to leave without making this toast." "To 1990, may the spirit of Callahan's invade the world!" There follows a resounding crash and the fog drifts off in different directions, as if distributing warm fuzzies around the room. >>which to do first??? persona or sig file?? What a quandary.... Live long and prosper... Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!ucbvax!van-bc!ubc-cs!fs1!spring.ee.ubc.ca!mikeb From: mikeb@spring.ee.ubc.ca (Mike Bolotski) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: A Food Fight Keywords: TOXIC PUN FALLOUT Message-ID: <882@fs1.ee.ubc.ca> Date: 22 Dec 89 11:04:19 GMT References: <8912190906.AA00640@fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM> <6331@ucdavis.ucdavis.edu> Sender: news@fs1.ee.ubc.ca Reply-To: mikeb@spring.ee.ubc.ca (Mike Bolotski) Organization: Dept. of Electrical Engineering University of B.C. Lines: 24 In article <6331@ucdavis.ucdavis.edu> ez000691@pollux.ucdavis.edu (Shadow) writes: > Shadow can recognize a challenge when he hears one, and rises to the >occasion with relish, without loafing around. > "Oy! I must have been nutty as a fruitcake to even get started...but, >then, I always was a sucker for a good edible pun (You can really sink your >teeth into them!). Nothing olive batter than an all-out punfest, you under- >sand,wich is something a friend of mine was always fond of. Her name was ^^^^ fondue? >Trixie. She had radish hair, butter eyes were greens. As I recall, she made a >good celery entering data on an Apple. Her boss, Waldorf, finally fired her >when the office updated to IBM, and she never ceased complaining about how ^^^^^^^ up-date-ed? English majors? Fig-ures. :-) Mike Bolotski, Department of Electrical Engineering, University of British Columbia, Vancouver, Canada mikeb@salmon.ee.ubc.ca | mikeb%salmon.ee.ubc.ca@relay.ubc.ca salmon.ee.ubc.ca!mikeb@uunet.uu.net| uunet!ubc-cs!salmon.ee.ubc.ca!mikeb Path: mit-eddie!rutgers!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!ucbvax!HPLABS.HP.COM!egly%hplred From: egly%hplred@HPLABS.HP.COM (Diana Egly) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: See you next year Message-ID: Date: 22 Dec 89 19:46:25 GMT Sender: daemon@ucbvax.BERKELEY.EDU Lines: 46 I shuffle in, this time wearing a tee-shirt that says, "San Andreas. It's our fault" and sweatpants, and carrying a christmas tin under my arm. I open it up at the bar and it's filled with candy. "I'm leaving for the holidays but I wanted to bring this first. These are carmels -- honey, maple, and chocolate ones (pointing at different ones). And chocolate fudge. Those are mints -- wintergreen, spearmint, peppermint (pointing at different colored candies)." And those (with a touch of embarrassment) are catmint for the feline folks. Guess I was thinking of the tabbifli when I made them. Oh, yes, save a couple of these chocolates for the Rev. Mom -- they're filled with nutella." "Well. Eat up. And I hope your holiday is a good one." I speak with a couple of people here and there around Callahan's before I leave for the holidays. ____________________________ Formal introduction: Diana Egly. No persona. Sometimes being human is enough. Age 36. Height 5'2". Weight 135 pounds. Hair - short, curly, light brown. Eyes - brown, bespectacled. My vision is at least as bad as Gilly's, so I'm really glad they've finally made light weight plastic lenses. My glasses frames are pink, the lenses are lightly tinted pink. I wanted to see what it would be like to look at the world through rose colored glasses. Undergrad degree in math, graduate work in cognitive psycholgy. Fantasia is my favorite movie, so I do enjoy classical music. But I mostly listen to women's music -- currently favorites are Holly Near's new album, Sky Dances; it's the one with all the AIDS-related songs on it. (And I'm just as glad that I haven't heard her perform these in public -- music has strange powers to effect me.) And also, Chris Williams' Snow Angel album (hard candy christmas sort of describes where I am this year...) My hobbies? People, politics, handcrafts, social action, volunteerism, reading. (And making candy???) Reading matter varies broadly; I can't say that there's any single gendre that I'm addicted to. There are a lot of things that I used to do -- like play D&D and square-dance -- that I just don't do any more. But I'll listen with interest if you happen on one of those topics. I share my life with two cats, both of them black cats, and I like talking about animals (I frequent rec.pets too). Oh, yes, I'm a Quaker (Religious Society of Friends) and am heavily involved in various Friends-related activities. Path: mit-eddie!bbn!usc!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!rpi!jefyoung From: jefyoung@pawl.rpi.edu (Jeffrey Young) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Do not open 'til 12/21 Summary: ..And a Warm Fuzzy For All Message-ID: <-8?`4@rpi.edu> Date: 22 Dec 89 21:13:31 GMT References: <44986@bu-cs.BU.EDU> Distribution: alt Organization: Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, Troy NY Lines: 41 "Couldn't let this one get away without saying something..." ------------------------------------------------------------------ The Unicorn-turned-youth (for purposes of holding a load of Warm Fuzzies in his lap) smiles and blinks away his tears of joy. "I guess I had to see that not one person who cares can ever be quite alone if he or she does not wish it....it's hard indeed to see that when you are the one feeling alone, and you feel abandoned...that's where it's great to have friends like all of you to remind me that there's SOMEONE out there who cares. This" (he indicated the cake and the Warm Fuzzies with a toss of his head) "proves that even one who thinks he is an outcast has friends, be they in high places, low places, or somewhere in between...like Callahan's." He sighs again, smiling, and asks that anyone who needs a Warm Fuzzy to please take one, as he's got more than enough, "...and, shared happiness is happiness doubled.." "To all of you who have made this place what it is, and anyone and everyone welcome here, Bless you all...I mean that from the bottom of my heart. But I have to shut this thing down, and hope to see you all again soon, next decade.. " ..and a last pun-wish to remember as you head home for the holidays.. "Make The World A Less Decade-nt Place-- Spend Some Time With A Loved One...." -Taldin The Blue Unicorn Defender Of Light Furry At Large (with a lot of Warm Fuzzies) -- "You are blue, Unicorn.. the Blue of clear, cloudless days where everything seems like it's going right and nothing could go wrong.. and the Blue of despair and lonliness." jefyoung@pawl.rpi.edu Path: mit-eddie!rutgers!columbia!cunixc!cunixf!shoulson From: shoulson@cunixf.cc.columbia.edu (Mark E. Shoulson) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: bye for now... (WARM FUZZIES!) Message-ID: <1989Dec22.151606.8725@cunixf.cc.columbia.edu> Date: 22 Dec 89 15:16:06 GMT Organization: Columbia University Lines: 30 He dashes into the Place and orders a shot without even taking his coat off. "Hey, all. Can't stay long; about to go home for break. I *dread* coming back and seeing all the posts I missed (though I'll probably be on periodically during vacation). Just wanted to post a "have a good break/merry Christmas/Happy Channukah (never looks good in English!)/ whatever" greeting. Hope everyone's finals went/will go well. So long to all those who won't be returning; I'll miss you. Try to get back here, at least once in a while, by hook or by crook! "It's been great talking to you all on irc and forum (I am known as yndrd there) and here, and I hope to see more of you in the future. If anyone is in the NJ area (West Orange, to be exact), give me a call (201)325-1819." With that, he slings off his knapsack, opens it, and startes distributing warm fuzzies all over the room. A merry free-for-all ensues. Soon the Place is quieter and the knapsack is empty. But I have a warm, fuzzy feeling in me that tells me there'll soon be more. G^is la revidon! ~mark o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o Mark Shoulson: shoulson@cunixf.cc.columbia.edu shoulson@cunixf.bitnet {...}!rutgers!columbia!cunixf!shoulson Path: mit-eddie!rutgers!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!rpi!nisc.nyser.net!cmx!Wintermute From: Wintermute@cmx.npac.syr.edu (Wintermute) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Newcomer's Toast Message-ID: <2174@cmx.npac.syr.edu> Date: 22 Dec 89 16:40:18 GMT Reply-To: Wintermute@cmx.npac.syr.edu (Jim Brule) Distribution: alt Organization: Department of Redundancy Department Lines: 64 { The door opens, and a figure quietly slips in, nervous about making any commotion. As the door closes, Mike's quick eyes notice the figure's cautious approach a tall frame belies what Mike's even quicker intution recognizes as an inner sense of smallness. A quick wink, a warm smile, and Mike has welcomed another sojourner to Callahan's... The newcomer edges unobtrusively up to the bar, melting into the space before him. Mike moves equally slowly to serve him, pacing his motions to the newscomer's capacity for recognition. With impeccable timing, Mike arrives to take his order just as the dollar bill touches the bartop. "A shot of tequila, please." The combination of resonance and hesitation in the newcomer's voice is as incongruous as the mixture of 'tough drink' and polite request. "That dollar entitles you to a toast, my friend," Mike gently encourages, delivering the clear liquid. The newcomer gazes down, contemplating. "Thanks," he sighs, and turns to face the fireplace. Patiently awaiting the right moment, he does not see Mike's careful high sign to the regulars. Soon, the conversation dies down, and Doc pipes up, "You look ready to make a toast, sir; have you something in mind?" The newcomer takes a deep breath, makes a last survey of the room, and takes a nominal step forward. } "Good evening. I'm known as Wintermute, a name which perhaps carries more than originally intended, but appropriate nonetheless. I've known of Callahan's for years, but only discovered the location a few days ago. And at just the right time... "Almost two decades ago, just after high school, I happened to have an experience that I wish on none of you, though I know some of you have had the misfortune to share. More than that I cannot as yet say, other than I have tucked that experience away with such skill and precision that even I was unaware of it, or its quiet, insidious effects on my relationships with others - or lack thereof. "Recently, events conspired to revive the memories of that event, and for a while, scenes from it played through my sensorium like a deranged MTV..." "Sounds redundant to me!" quipped Fast Eddie. "Ssh!" warned Doc. "S'OK," Wintermute smiled, "my sense of humor has stood by me, at least! "In any case, there I was, feeling the walls of the shell which had held those memories, and Chaos knows what else, inside begin to crack, and to tell the truth," his voice quivered, "I wasn't sure just _what_ would burst forth, or if...." Wintermute seemed to shrink as his voice faltered. Doc moved towards him, but Mike waved him off. Wintermute raised his head, his eyes brimming with tears, and started again. "Or if there would be anything recognizable left once it was through... For a while, it seemed as though the waters of my being had been irrevocably polluted by that event. Irrevocably. "And then I realized that, somehow, I was a survivor. That, somehow, I had weathered many storms; now, the Nor'easter was upon me, but I had skills untapped; resources unknown. "So, my friends to be, allow me my toast: "TO STRENGTHS DISCOVERED, AND HOPE ETERNAL!" > > > S M A S H ! < < < Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!samsung!caesar.cs.montana.edu!milton!uw-beaver!Teknowledge.COM!polya!lucid.com!lucidboston!kdo From: kdo@lucid.com (Ken Olum) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: A Scot? Message-ID: <148@boston-harbor.lucid.com> Date: 22 Dec 89 23:29:17 GMT References: <4790a3de.20b6d@apollo.HP.COM> Reply-To: kdo@lucid.com Organization: Lucid East, Sharon MA Lines: 6 In article <4790a3de.20b6d@apollo.HP.COM> betsyp@apollo.HP.COM (Betsy Perry) writes: >"Mr. Callahan.. a scot... sigh. Make that a Chambord and tonic..." Certainly not. Mike's an Irishman. :-) Ken Path: mit-eddie!rutgers!usc!samsung!uunet!microsoft!t-phils From: t-phils@microsoft.UUCP (the Eternal Stranger) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Do Not Open Until Tall Tale Night Keywords: stinkers Message-ID: <10060@microsoft.UUCP> Date: 23 Dec 89 00:45:18 GMT References: <6288@ucdavis.ucdavis.edu> Reply-To: t-phils@microsoft.UUCP (the Eternal Stranger) Distribution: alt Organization: Microsoft Corp., Redmond WA Lines: 196 Shadow writes: | | Shadow grins. "All right. So the topic is eating, hmm? Certainly one | we can milk for all it's worth..." He ducks a hail of peanuts from a corner | table (was that you, Jilara?) and protests, "Just warming up! | "Okay. Some of you may know that the current fad is oat bran... ... | "You can't reach an oat bog with Tru sticks." "Well, now," Alaric says slowly, "as it happens, your tale - speaking as it does of journeying into the wilderness - reminds me of an event I remember from the time when I, ah, took a vacation in the frozen lands that lie to the north of the city of King's Mountain. My wanderings there chanced to bring me into the lands of a clan of Kanukh tribesmen - Eskimos, I believe you would call them. "As fate would have it, I arrived as they were conducting a memorial ceremony for the tribal chieftain's brother, Koltos, who had just died an untimely death. They had his frozen body laid out in state, with his harpoons neatly stacked beside him. "Now among these tribes, it is a tradition that when conducting one of these ceremonies, something symbolizing the cause of death is placed at the feet of the deceased, as a sign that although the body is dead, the spirit has passed by whatever caused death, and can no longer be influenced by it. The thing that puzzled me, though, was that what had been placed at his feet was a small brazier of hot coals - yet even the most casual glance at the body showed that he had frozen to death. This apparent paradox aroused my curiosity, and I remained for the rest of the ceremony while the tribal shaman sang the dead man's death-song - the story of his life and accomplishments, and how he finally met his end. "Well, it seemed that Koltos had been an exceptional member of the tribe, from his earliest childhood. He did, however, have a considerable aversion to cold (strange for a Kanukh, I know), and the influence of this was easily visible in his life. He hunted the great icebears, because their hides made the warmest sleeping furs; whenever he built an igloo, he took extra care to seal every tiny crack and chink, so that not even the tiniest draught could find its way in. On hunting expeditions, he was always the one who volunteered to tend the cooking fire, and he had great thick calluses on the palms of his hands from twirling the firedrill. He could get a fire started faster that anyone else in the tribe, and had an eagle eye for scraps or driftwood dry enough for fuel. He was always the first to notice an incoming blizzard or a change in the weather, since he watched the skies with such dedication - they said he could smell snow in the air three days before it snowed. "This all made things even more puzzling, because by all accounts, Koltos was a great survivor. How could such a man be so incautious as to get into a situation in which he could freeze to death?" Alaric pauses, looking regretfully at his empty glass. "Actually, just between you and me, I'm starting to feel the chill a little myself. Something warming like an Irish coffee would go down very well right now... ah, thank you, Mike." He sips, appreciatively. "Yes, that's more like it. Now, where was I?" "Oh yes. Well, it seems that as life went on, so he seemed to feel the cold more and more. He began to try and avoid fishing expeditions - the hours of sitting over a hole in the ice waiting for a fish to bite chilled him to the bone. He started finding reasons not to go on the seal and walrus hunting trips, too; these Kanukhs did their walrus hunting from kayaks, closed canoes made from sealskin stretched over a wooden frame, and he had always found kayaking an unenjoyable experience. That layer of sealskin was the only thing between the occupant and the ocean, and the water gets very cold up there. He was respected by the tribe for his weather sense and his skill at survival, though (and also for being the Chief's brother), and rarely had to go out hunting except when he felt like it. "There came a time, though, when for some reason that nobody knew, the winter was especially hard one year, and the hunting was poor. The fish wouldn't bite; the bears had retreated to the wildest and most desolate areas of the wilderness; the caribou had not come north that year as they usually did; the seals had mostly headed south in search of warmer waters; and the few walrus to be found were nowhere near sufficient to feed the tribe. They were used to being able to pick and choose - now, they had to chase every walrus they saw, even if they sighted it miles away. To find food now meant long hours spent alone in a kayak searching among the ice floes for signs of walrus, usually without success - and with hunting taking so much time for so little reward, this meant that every hunter was needed, even Koltos. "So Koltos got out his kayak, and paddled off with the other hunters to search for walrus. For two days he saw nothing and came back empty-handed, and the weather was still getting colder. Finally, late on the third day, he spied a dark shape on a far-off ice-floe, on the far side of a great open channel in the ice. Checking his harpoon, he set off in the direction of this promising target. To his surprise, it seemed to be a long time before he started to gain on it, and when he got out about half-way to where the floe had been, he realised why, as he felt the sudden tug of a current against his kayak. The current had been carrying the iceberg away from him. Now, though, he was riding the same current, and going with the floe. With that help, he caught up to it quickly. Stealthily paddling around the edge of the floe, he readied his harpoon for the throw, came around the corner of the ice floe - and saw that the prey he had hoped for was nothing more than an abandoned, broken kayak, frozen into the ice. "Looking back the way he had come, he realized he was now a long way from shore. It was going to be a long, cold paddle back. As he looked at the wrecked kayak on the floe, though, the splintered frame caught his eye, and he was struck by a sudden idea. The wreck was beyond any possibility of salvage as a kayak, but he could break up what was left of the frame, use a small piece of the covering to protect his own kayak, and if he was oh so careful, he could have a small fire to warm his hands on the way back! "Well, he broke up the frame for firewood, and cut away a part of the skin that was free of the ice, and setting the skin in front of him on the shell of his own kayak, he carefully built and lit a small fire. "He fed tie fire with tiny scraps of wood from the broken frame as he paddled, being careful not to rock the boat - no-one but Koltos could have kept that fire going, on the deck of a kayak splashed with spray from the paddle, but keep it going he did. Now, though, he was fighting against the current; and where it had taken him three or four hours to get to the floe, four hours of paddling took him scarcely half-way back - and he was beginning to tire, now. "For hours Koltos paddled, eking out the last of the firewood with desperate care, trying to keep the coals alive as long as possible, but finally the wood ran out. With the fire gone, the weather seemed even colder than it had before, and he still hadn't reached solid pack-ice where he could pull his kayak ashore and rest. Almost numb from cold and exhaustion, he hit on a desperate scheme. He most be close now - if he broke just a few little pieces off the frame of his own kayak, unimportant pieces like the frame that his skin spray-deck tied onto, he could keep the fire going a little longer and get some more precious warmth. The sea was calm, so he didn't need to use the spray-deck. He should reach solid ice where he could rest and find shelter before too much longer. "So he broke off a few little pieces, and kept paddling and feeding his tiny fire... but soon the spray-deck frame was gone, and he stil hadn't reached the shore. `Well, a few more tiny pieces won't hurt,' he thought, `if I take them carefully...' and so he broke off a few more pieces, in places that wouldn't weaken the kayak too much. And so he went on, until finally he noticed that he was almost there. "With a sudden second wind, he started paddling with renewed fervor, and the kayak leapt ahead - for a few strokes, and then there was a sudden ominous creaking and the kayak sagged in the middle. He realized, horrified, that he had taken too much wood from the frame - he had weakened the kayak too much, and he now had but moments to reach safety before the kayak collapsed completely. He paddled frantically, trying to reach shore, but the strain was too much for the weakened kayak. Just seconds later, it broke in half and sank, leaving him floundering amid the wreckage, suddenly afloat in the icy-cold water. "Well, he wasn't the kind to give up easily, and he struck out for shore, swinning strongly. But his thick furs were awkward to swim in, and the deadly cold of the water sapped the strength from his muscles. With determination born from the fear of imminent death, though, he kept on, soaked to the skin, and finally he reached the shore. With a last effort he pulled himself out onto the ice but, totally exhausted from his ordeal and chilled to the bone, he did not have the strength to go any further - or even, at first, to stand against the weight of his waterlogged clothes. "`I must build a fire,' he thought, `I must get warm and get dry... but I need to rest for a minute first. Just a few minutes, then I'll go on.' But the few minutes turned into many, and the cold air froze his wet clothes, and when he tried to get up he found to his horror that his wet furs had frozen solid, and he could not move - he was as though entombed alive, encased in a coffin of ice. "Another hunter from his tribe found the wreckage of his kayak the next day, and realized that something must have happened to him. Searching in the area, found Koltos on the edge of the pack ice, frozen absolutely solid. Tying him onto the back of his kayak, he took his body back to the village, and told the clan chieftain the sad news. "Well, they gave him a hero's funeral, of course - only a hero could have swum that far in that freezing water - and they had the clan shaman perform an augury to find out what it was that had wrecked his kayak, so that they could properly honor him. So that explained the brazier of coals." Sitting back, Alaric takes a long swallow of the steaming Irish coffee. "You know," he says, "I'm glad I don't live up there in the frozen wastes." "Pardon me for asking," Doc Webster inquires politely, "but I think I must be missing something... this is a fascinating tale, but I don't see what it has to do with food. Apart from the incidental aspect of hunting, that is." "Dat's right," chimes in Fast Eddie, "and it don't got no pun in it, neither!" Ignoring Eddie's interjection, Alaric looks innocently at the Doc. "Well, it's really quite simple, you see," he says. "The whole story just goes to show one thing: "You can't _have_ your kayak, _and_ heat it..." -- CHECK ALL BOXES THAT APPLY: [ ] Out-of-place Renaissance man [ ] Frustrated idealist with no utopia [ ] Romantic with no-one to romance [ ] Amateur superhero minus superpowers [ ] Sometime poet with no audience [ ] t-phils@microsoft.UUCP [ ] Gallant knight with no holy sword [ ] Software wizard seeking new tower [ ] Player at Life, with no rule book [ ] Empath with no-one to help [X] All of the above Path: mit-eddie!bu-cs!lll-winken!uunet!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!ucbvax!ZIP.EECS.UMICH.EDU!tyg From: tyg@ZIP.EECS.UMICH.EDU (Tom Galloway) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: SF puns Message-ID: <8912230228.AA05225@zip.eecs.umich.edu> Date: 23 Dec 89 02:28:02 GMT Sender: daemon@ucbvax.BERKELEY.EDU Lines: 17 A few years back, Spider was GoH at Baycon, so they had a Punday night with Spider presiding. The topic of SF authors came up, and I managed the following; It's a little known fact that Spider here comes from a long line of famous authors. They were all Robinsons, but wrote under pen names like Shakespeare, Melville, Joyce, Heinlein, etc. Now, Spider is a believer in nuture over nature, so when he was starting out he tried his best to write and make it big using only the techniques he'd learned in his life. While reasonably well received, the stories just weren't making it big. So he gave in and wrote a story that won all sorts of awards. Which story is that? Why, Stardance, of course, because that's the first one where he co-wrote with his Robinson, Jeanne. (the most notable thing during that round was that a co-owner of The Other Change of Hobbit sf bookstore blanked on the topic of sf authors!) tyg tyg@caen.engin.umich.edu Path: mit-eddie!rutgers!usc!hacgate!lori From: lori@hacgate.scg.hac.com (Lori Barfield) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: The Answer, Of Course, Is 42 (SOLUTION) Message-ID: <6558@hacgate.scg.hac.com> Date: 22 Dec 89 23:34:29 GMT Organization: Hughes Aircraft Company, El Segundo CA Lines: 79 OK, Mike, here's a stack of singles for Phil. He came soooo close.... Heh heh heh. ;-) This has been fun. I'm sorry if *anyone* missed out on guidance because my mailer was sick. [Once again, Eddie strikes up, "Hey, Mr. Postman...."] ******* DRUM ROLL PLEASE ******* The "twist" to the puzzle can be found by examining the title of the puzzle and the beginnings of all the solution words. Here are the correct solutions that Phil posted: clock chip technology q u a R t z XXX compile time reading material p e n t h O u s e link B i n d remove trailing blanks t r I m type of variable u n i N i t i a l i z e d See it? Every word starts off with either a common Greek or Latin number-prefix, but NONE of the words is lexically based on these roots. Now, that was the "twist," but not the whole solution.... To get the last few, you had to have noted the *title* of the puzzle. (To help out, I also posted the clue that this puzzle was "commutative.") Hmmm...Answer is 42...number prefixes...maybe you could add these up.... 4+5+2+3+1. That's a a pretty low sum, so high-value prefixes might be needed for the last three solution words. I forced myself to stick to numbers 10 and under because they're the ones everyone knows. To help out, the first five intentionally were 1-5, and I also didn't repeat any. Because the next word had such an iffy relationship to the "Computerness" theme, I gave a *second* clue by misspelling "source." There are no prefixes other than the correct one which could fit into _E_ except dEc, which isn't a stand-alone word, and then there was the tie-in with "sorceror".... sorce of the last bug in any program h E x For this next word, I had hoped that someone would notice what company makes VAXen. You needn't have gotten the correct product name to deserve a round for this one! There could be several answers, anyway, I'm no DExpert. VAX communication link d e c N e t And this last one could probably only be solved by the process of subtraction :-). There could be many close-enough answers, so I'd have bought a round for anyone who just knew what it had to start with. nerd personality trait n o n a s S e r t i v e Viola! The answer, of course, Is 42. But then, that's what I've been saying all along! ******** This puzzle was tricky to write because in order to make it solvable, I thought it had to have a familiar theme (Computerness), a vertical clue tying it in with alt.callahans (ROBINSEN), and a title so obvious that it would give away the "twist" (The Answer is 42). The first five words were intended to be easy (sorry if anyone was offended) in order to facilitate catching the "twist" right away. I don't know of anyone who caught the twist or came closer than Phil. If you did, post your say-so, and the next round or two is also on me! I have gotten very little feedback on whether many people on alt.callahans are into puzzling any more. It's been interesting to watch the evolution of this net over the past month or so. If anybody out there wants to try another, post a theme-- It's Phil's turn! ...lori