Path: mit-eddie!rutgers!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!ucbvax!fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM!jane From: jane@fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM (Jane Beckman x2637) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Music-makers Message-ID: <8912281415.AA03571@fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM> Date: 28 Dec 89 22:15:36 GMT Sender: daemon@ucbvax.BERKELEY.EDU Lines: 69 Jilara listens to the discourses on music, and the poem on dancing and smiles. "Blessed are the music-makers, for they are the soul of the world. And the dancers, and lyricists, and those whose only instruments are CD players. My mother was a dancer. Her uncle Bill was a country fiddler. I come of a line of Finnish/Swedish rune-singers who would weather-work through songs. My blood hears the music of the spheres. "Look for the music, and you'll find Jilara," they say of me. I write poetry about this for a friend of mine, who has a Celtic rock band called Tempest---tempestas is a Latin term, that relates to the music of the gale. I dance, and forget all else, only the music and my body, that moves to it. "Years ago, at Renaissance Faire, there were huge ceoli's at the gate, where the musicians would gather, and we would all dance like some great and primal tribal gathering, and Chameleon, who played the satyr of the Faire, would come and dance with us in frenzied merriment, never tiring, quicksilver on bare feet, naked save for a loose pair of homespun pants. We would fall into the music, and dance for hours, hearing only the drumbeats, and the pipes, and the reverberations of the hammer dulcimer. I don't know why we didn't get tired, except that the music was an energy in itself, and we fell into it. A tapestry, a web of music and movement, part of some primal pattern of life. "Therefore, I will give you a bit of verse by Arthur O'Shaughnessy (a goodly Irishman, who knows the value of such things!), which I always thought summed things up nicely. Enjoy, and think. We are the music-makers, And we are the dreamers of dreams, Wandering by lone sea-breakers And sitting by desolate streams; World-losers and world-forsakers, On whom the pale moon gleams: Yet we are the movers and shakers Of the world for ever, it seems With wonderful deathless ditties We build up the world's great cities And out of a fabulous story We fashion an empire's glory: One man with a dream, at pleasure, Shall go forth and conquer a crown; And one with a new song's measure Can trample an empire down. We, in the ages lying In the buried past of the earth Built Nineveh with our sighing, And Babel itself with our mirth; And o'erthrew them with prophesying To the old of the new world's worth; For each age is a dream that is dying, Or one that is coming to birth." She bows slightly, with a flourish. "And, my friends, I sincerely believe it, for wherever the spark of creativity and the music of of thought resounds, worlds are born. And wherever friends gather, talk, make music, and spin tales, that is the cradle of the world. The creative spark is all, and I think everyone here in Callahan's knows it, somewhere here," she touches her hand to her heart, "if not here," and she touches her hand to her brow. "May the new decade coming bring a dream that is coming to birth." ---Jilara the Exile (I hope.) "Of all the things I've lost, I miss my mind the most." A. Brilliant (alternate identity may be jane@fsdcupt.csd.mot.com---don't you love computers with identity crises?) Path: mit-eddie!rutgers!cs.utexas.edu!uunet!microsoft!t-phils From: t-phils@microsoft.UUCP (the Eternal Stranger) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Time to say goodbye, for now... Keywords: Au revoir Message-ID: <10102@microsoft.UUCP> Date: 30 Dec 89 04:52:51 GMT Reply-To: t-phils@microsoft.UUCP (the Eternal Stranger) Organization: Microsoft Corp., Redmond WA Lines: 21 This is my last day here at Microsoft, and with my internship goes my Usenet access... so for now at least, I shall have to bid farewell to Callahan's, and all those I've "met" here (and, for that matter, to all those I haven't had the opportinuty to "meet" properly yet). If there's anything I can do about it, I'll be back... and meantime, it's onward to search full time for a permanent job. One last round on me, Mike; then I'll have to be going. If anyone wants or needs to get in touch with me, I can be reached at (206)865-0812 (phone-net), or 14262 SE 6th St #T202, Bellevue, WA 98007 (paper-net). "My ear is always open..." -- Until Friday Dec 29, Alaric is still t-phils@microsoft.UUCP `Mid dreams that die and things that end, I ask but thee, eternal friend. One lantern in the vasty dark, One stable soul, my way to mark. - Jilara Path: mit-eddie!bloom-beacon!eru!luth!sunic!tut!ousrvr!news From: so-luru@stekt.oulu.fi (Ari Husa OH8NUP) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Bits and pieces (Re: Greetings Again) Message-ID: Date: 30 Dec 89 04:57:10 GMT References: Sender: news@ousrvr.oulu.fi Distribution: alt Organization: United Lusers Against SO Prefix Lines: 66 In-reply-to: spacey@bu-pub.bu.edu's message of Thu, 28 Dec 89 01:52:33 GM > She looked at him wondering what was on his mind. To her he seemed > troubled, but dared not ask him, for fear of intruding. She sighs and then > turned her attention back to her drink and her surroundings. She takes a > sip of her drink and leans back. > "I think I'll hang around here for a bit," she thinks to herself. The young man with the strawberry blond hair suddenly clears his throat. He talks to the oriental woman with a mumbled, quiet voice of his. "I dearly thank you for that, my friend." He doesn't wait for an acknowledgement - he doesn't think he needs one - but continues, without lifting his eyes from the table and the rose and the drink. "I am sorry if it seemed like I didn't notice you or something. I am just tired. Tired of about everything." "I wonder if this christmas was a merry one. To some, it may have been. To me it seems like less and less people are having it "fine"... is that what growing up is all about?" "I don't want to sound miserable... I really don't. I would like to sound cheerful and happy - but the world just doesn't work that way, I've noticed. My grandmother is in hospital - she is 79 years of age, and I am not sure if she ever comes back home again. This was the first christmas for more than 10 years without her. Without the whole family at grammy's." "I also heard that a friend of mine had broke up with her boyfriend. After more than four years of living together. They were engaged as well." "During the past month I've been listening. Listening to my friends. One after another they have revealed their miseries. I wonder if I have one friend (of those not-too-many) who is having it OK.. or is it just that everyone does have something to hide, some private pain, only to be revealed to very few? Add my personal problems to this.. and, well... it gets rough sometimes. I think I can take it, though." A touch of sarcasm can be heard in the man's voice. "Well, I wouldn't like to add mine to the pile tonight, if you don't mind. There is enough of that already. Let us just say that I lack motivation. If you look at me closely, you will find out that I don't have the burning flame inside me that most everyone seem to have. I hope to find the fire - I hope it is still there - maybe I need someone to blow it to flames, maybe I will be able to feed it with books and papers... or maybe it just has died out. That I need to find out." He takes a sip of his drink, looking at her dark eyes, and repeats: "I lack motivation." He puts his eyes back down and sits quietly. Luru -- /// Ari Husa OH8NUP so-luru@stekt.oulu.fi o-o --... ...-- o Ham Radio Operators Do It In Higher Frequency Path: mit-eddie!rutgers!cs.utexas.edu!uunet!88opensi!ed From: ed@88opensi.UUCP (Ed Anderson) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Callahans; Just in the nick of time Keywords: NONE Message-ID: <346@88opensi.UUCP> Date: 30 Dec 89 03:33:47 GMT Distribution: usa Organization: 88open Software Initiative Inc., San Jose, CA Lines: 39 The door swings open and crashes back against its stops. He closes the door behind him softly, as if in apology for making such a brisk entrance. His wool overcoat comes promptly off and is tossed over an empty chair near the entryway. He looks very business-like; charcoal-grey double breasted suit and red tie. He has blond hair neatly cut into an almost military style flat -top. He surveys the occupancy with a smile, knowing everyone and yet knowing no one. He focuses his steel-blue eyes on the fireplace and notices the remnants of many a toast, evidence that this place is warm and special. He walks up to the bar and is greeted by the bartender. "My name is Mike, what can I getcha?"... He responds "how 'bout a shot of Glinfiddich", "You got it". He turns his head only to see that everyone in the place is staring at him, as if expecting something. He turns back to Mike with a puzzled look. "They're wondering what your story is pal, you DO have a story don't you?". Uh, em, ah yeah sure... He take the glass and pays for the drink, then moves to center of the room. "I've had some pretty hard times in the past few years, I really have no family to speak of, the friends I have are exaustingly superficial." "It was all by accident that I found Callahans. One night in an attempt to find solace in my work I started listening to you all. For so long I have ached for conversation of substance; to talk and be heard, to listen and respond...I was overcome by tears at times as I identified with your stuggles, felt your pain... You have carried me through the holidays with meaningful, heart-felt understanding and compassion that can only be found at Callahans." "To reality... with real friends" Ed Anderson 88open Software Initiative 2099 Gateway Place Suit 300 San Jose, CA. 95131 Voice (408) 436-6634 _____________________________________________________________________________ | | | Two things come out of Berkeley... LSD and BSD UNIX, and we don't think this| | is mere coincidence.. From: The Asylum | |_____________________________________________________________________________| Path: mit-eddie!rutgers!cs.utexas.edu!uunet!crdgw1!sixhub!davidsen From: davidsen@sixhub.UUCP (Wm E. Davidsen Jr) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Good things on TV Message-ID: <358@sixhub.UUCP> Date: 30 Dec 89 18:55:30 GMT Reply-To: davidsen@sixhub.UUCP (bill davidsen) Distribution: alt Organization: *IX Public Access UNIX, Schenectady NY Lines: 52 The cold wind sends a blast of cold air in the door as the tall bearded man walks in. He goes to the bar and orders a Newcastle Ale. After a few minutes he walks over and turns on the TV which nobody seemed to remember was there. It was one of those ridiculous specials, honoring somebody for something, and at the moment some band was singing "God Bless America." As the camera zoomed in on them, you can see that they are a military band. As they swing into the last stanza the camera backs away, and above the band you can see the American and Russian flags on the wall. After the songs ends the announcer says that it is the Red Army Band from Kennedy Center. Then the TV goes off and becomes as forgettable as ever. The tall man speaks. "When I was a boy in grade school, during the Korean War, several times a week we would hold Civil Defense Drills, and all go into the basement and cover our eyes against the flash." He paused for a sip. "We studies what to do after a nuclear attack, and were asked to check that our parents had enough food and water stored for two weeks. We studied this like any other subject, and had little quizes and stuff." He guestured at the TV. "There were a lot of people worried about the Red Army being in Washington, and I wish they had lived to see this day. Joe McCarthy used to go on TV and talk about the commies, and he sounded a lot like a preacher banging away about sin." "When I was going to college in Boston we had the Cuban Missle Crisis. You know JFK was not going to back down on that. I had friends on the ships off Cuba, and some of us called their parents to offer a little support. I guess some things don't change, my son-in-law was on the Caron when it was over the 'line of death' a few years ago." Finally he walked to the line. "Things get better and worse so slowly sometimes that people don't realize that they are changing. Especially young people," he said, looking at the couple holding hands under the table. "And yet, at the end of a year, and a decade, if you can remember how things were you can see them getting better. I can remember the first commercial jets and the last trollycar, my mother can remember the first car and replacing the oil lamp with modern gas." He raised his mug and tossed it into the fireplace. "To progress! May it continue, and may people be wise enough to recognize it when it comes, and patient enough to recognize that it doesn't always happen overnight." Happy New Year, All. -- bill davidsen - sysop *IX BBS and Public Access UNIX davidsen@sixhub.uucp ...!uunet!crdgw1!sixhub!davidsen "Getting old is bad, but it beats the hell out of the alternative" -anon Path: mit-eddie!rutgers!apple!oliveb!bu.edu!bu-cs!bu-pub.bu.edu!spacey From: spacey@bu-pub.bu.edu (Eva Chan) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Bits and pieces (Re: Greetings Again) Message-ID: Date: 31 Dec 89 02:02:33 GMT References: Sender: news@bu.edu.bu.edu Distribution: alt Organization: Boston University Computer Science Lines: 35 In-reply-to: so-luru@stekt.oulu.fi's message of 30 Dec 89 04:57:10 GMT She looks up at him and smiles. Nods and takes a sip of her drink. "I understand what you mean, as far as motivation goes. I have been doing nothing but study and putting most things aside. Now it seems to me that all of this effort may be for nothing. I hope not, but that is how I feel sometimes." She sighs, takes another sip, and leans her head back. A tired look appears on her face. "Now it seems that a lot of my friends and acquaintances are looking forward to a new and exciting life. I feel as if I have driven myself into a ditch. I try to get myself out, but with much difficulty." "While in this ditch, i see everyone else speed right by me. A few of them wave, but no one seems to stop and help. Every person for themselves. That's how life seems to be nowadays. Step all over the fallen." She sighs deeply and takes another sip. She seems to look a bit more distraught than before. She takes a deep breath and continues. "Like you, i wonder if that flame is still there within me. I wonder if there is any motivation left to get me through the next year. It will be a new decade, but will it bring better tidings than the last ten years?" She stops at that and takes another sip. She lokks at the young man across from her and sees him looking at her with some concern. She tries to smile, but instead frowns a little and looks down at the drink in her hand. -- Eva Chan spacey@bu-pub.bu.edu (e-mail is always appreciated) Cheers! And may you enjoy life! Path: mit-eddie!rutgers!ucsd!ucbvax!goldfarb@ocf.berkeley.edu From: goldfarb@ocf.berkeley.edu (David Goldfarb) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: A Song-and-Dance Number Message-ID: <33419@ucbvax.BERKELEY.EDU> Date: 31 Dec 89 09:52:04 GMT Sender: usenet@ucbvax.BERKELEY.EDU Reply-To: goldfarb@ocf.Berkeley.EDU (David Goldfarb) Distribution: alt Organization: University of California, Berkeley Lines: 26 Suddenly a gong resounds in the middle of the room. Everyone looks up; at the source of the sound, several...creatures are singing and dancing. Most of them are teenaged Asian girls (and really cute ones, too!). One has red hair; she seems to be the lead singer, with two others (with blue and purple hair respectively) acting as back-up. There's also a six-foot-tall panda bear and a small black pig, although they're not singing. Music is playing--the source is not immediately apparent--and some people recognize the language of the song as Japanese. The dancers are very skillful, but several people are annoyed by the tinkly techno-pop style of the music and start throwing beer nuts at them. They don't seem to notice. Also, every time the panda jumps in the air (which is often) he lands with a crash that spills every drink within twenty feet. *That* gets people *really* annoyed. Suddenly Mike grabs a handful of peanuts and flings them at a young man daydreaming at a nearby table, shouting "Cut it out, willya?" The man starts. "Wha--?" He notices the dancers, and mutters "Damn. They're getting solid again." He points at them, shouting "at-TEN-*SHUN*!" The dancers stop with sheepish grins. The animals do their best to approximate sheepish grins. Then they all softly and suddenly vanish away, the grins fading out last. David Goldfarb goldfarb@ocf.berkeley.edu (Insert standard disclaimer) "...Or, I may not feel that my belief-system needs to be self-consistent in a post-Goedelian epoch." --Dan'l Danehy-Oakes Path: mit-eddie!wuarchive!uunet!88opensi!ed From: ed@88opensi.UUCP (Ed Anderson) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Who is this guy anyway? Message-ID: <347@88opensi.UUCP> Date: 31 Dec 89 01:52:28 GMT Organization: 88open Software Initiative Inc., San Jose, CA Lines: 127 Key-words: stone Cops, ring, chain, West FL... "Mike, make this one a tall cold glass of milk. Thanks", he exchanges a dollar (Well everything else seems to cost a dollar, why be different?) for the glass of _udder deliight_ (I had to say that). "Friends, I think I should introduce myself, my name is Ed. I've lived in California all of my life. I grew up in a town just South of Yosemite National Park called Oakhurst. I'm 25 with the standard California description; blond hair, blue eyes, 5'10" 185 lbs. I don't have much formal education to speak of, I dropped out of High School to work for a little start-up company in 1979 called Apple-something-or-other. In 1982 I decided to see the wold so I joined the Marines and got stuck in 29 Palms, California for four years. In 1984 (August, 4th to be exact), I was married to a very lovely young woman. The wedding was epic; Marine Dress Blues, 500 guests and a reception in the main Ball Room of the Velvet Turtle. On March 12, 1985 I became the father of the most beautiful little girl. I was the happiest man alive." He shifts his stance gaining energy to continue. "I loved my wife, and daughter. I did the best any 21 year old could do for his family, or at least I thought it was... 1986 I was discharged from the Marines, while I was in, I was a Machine-Gunner (Not very helpful on a resume). I spent 3 months persuing gainful employment. My rational was that I would rather take three months to find a job that payed 40K rather than work as a shipping clerk the rest of my life. I did work as a shipping clerk, for a computer store. Eventually, I learned how to fix PC's and in time purchased my own and got back into programming." Taking a deep breath, he lowers his head. "Things weren't going so well at home, as a shipping clerk I worked alot of hours to make ends meet. My wife stayed home and took care of our daughter. So I was the only source of income. My in-laws helped us alot, financially. This would have been O.k., but they started fooling around with our privacy. I found a contract programming job about 700 miles away from my in-laws and took my family there in a desparate attempt to save us. The job ended prematurely and I ended up taking my family South again, but this time it was different." "I began as a software engineer for a contract at JPL in Passadena. It was was the highest paying job I'd had so far, and it was enough for us to live on comfortably. It was a five year contract and I thought things would loosen up a bit. About six months into the contract, on July 7th 1987, I woke up, did my usual preparations, got dressed, kissed my wife and daughter and whent to work." Another deep breath, let out with a heavy sigh... "I reached the office at 7:30am like usual and began going over some new code. At 7:40am I got a call. A woman I did not know introduced herself. "Mr. Anderson, - Yes, My name is Elizabeth Cortney, I'm representing Mrs. Anderson in a suit for your divorce, You need to be at the Ontario Superior Court room D at 1:00pm for a Temporary Restraining Order hearing, - I'm sorry, there must be some mistake, uh, I'm not divorcing my wife, - Your wife is divorcing you Mr. Anderson... Good Day." I didn't even know what a Restraining Order was! Divorce? Divorce Barbara?, I started to shake... what about OUR DAUGHTER!" He starts to shake visibly now. I ran into my boss's office and began to babble. Dave, whats a Restraining Order?... How could she do this? What do I do? What did I do? HELP ME!..." His voice peeked almost to a screem then recedes into a shadow of breathy sounds. "This is all some kind of mistake or bad joke, I said to myself. I raced home and when I got there, I found that there was a new dead-lock in the door. It broke me... Its was about 8:15am now and I realized this was all a pre-meditated event. The woman I slept with the night before was killing me only 2 hours after the decptive kiss I recieved from her, killing me with confusion and frustration." "To make a long story short, I went to court, I was confused and grieved, I was incoherent at best. I could not get a Lawyer, you see she cleared out our savings and I had no money for a retainer fee. I did not know at the time that I could have postponed the divorce because I had no representation. I didn't even know my name that day. She filed the restraining order, barring me from any contact with her or my daughter, she said (her lawyer said) "we fear that Mr. Anderson may try to harm..." what a joke, I never have harmed anything. In less than 10 hours my clothes were in my car and I left." "It turns out that my wife had been seeing another man for almost a year. Within 6 months he was living with her in the house that had my name on the rental agreement. My daughter screemed morning and night and I was often called to comfort her, no one else could get her to sleep or even feed her. She was the hardest hit from all of this and it broke my heart to see that." "I gave up hope, my ex-wife was making it difficult for me to see my daughter, she said, "she'll just have to get used to Daddy-Gary". She did. There were times when she would call me "Daddy-Gary" by mistake, tell me all about the things they did together... She didn't know that these things wounded me beyond belief. My hope and self-esteem tumbled, I lost my job and was forced to move on to find work. To stay alive. Survive." The emotion is gone from his face as if it has all been spent in primal screems and begging God for his family. Again he speaks, painfully. "I spent over a year doing odd jobs, barely alive, wanting to die. I had little money for food, the car was repossessed and lived to far away to see my daughter. I wrote letter though, letters that were returned unopened. My absence gave my ex-wife an excuse to do one more thing to break me. She had remarried and that was fine, but because "I hadn't made the "effort" to see my daughter" (untrue) she got the courts to label me as an abondoner. I was absent from the hearings, I had no knowledge of this until it was too late... She and her new husband adopted my daughter. I had been virtually stripped of any rights of visitation, they even changed her name!..." "It has been two years now, I don't want to disturb Deborah's emotions again by forcing (legally) myself back into her life. I want her to be happy, I know her mother and Gary love her. Gary would be dead if he didn't treat her right. She has a letter from me placed in her adoption files (the only thing I have been able to do as of yet), when she's 18 she will get it. I believe this is the best way. I really needed to reveal this part of my life, in truth I've needed to do this for along time. I am also alone like many of you, I have alot to give and I also need alot of support. I couldn't have said this anywhere else but at Callahans. A Toast: To Deborah, my daughter, may she find it in her heart to understand, forgive and hold-on for life when she decides to marry. <*PaTCHINK*> Mike, a shot Glinfiddich, thanks. A Toast: To all of you I have burdened with this story, when that SO comes along, and you decide to marry, remember 'til death us do part. And thank you for listening... <*PaTCHINK*> _____________________________________________________________________________ |Two things come from Berkely; LSD and BSD UNIX...This is not mere coincidence| |_____________________________________________________________________________| Path: mit-eddie!wuarchive!uunet!88opensi!ed From: ed@88opensi.UUCP (Ed Anderson) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Bits and pieces (Re: Greetings Again) Summary: A new year always provides avenues for hope Message-ID: <348@88opensi.UUCP> Date: 31 Dec 89 11:41:04 GMT References: Distribution: alt Organization: 88open Software Initiative Inc., San Jose, CA Lines: 49 Slowly the young man looks up at Eva, not knowing if he should speak, but his urge to respond overwhelms him... ]"Now it seems that a lot of my friends and acquaintances are looking ]forward to a new and exciting life. I feel as if I have driven myself into ]a ditch. I try to get myself out, but with much difficulty." "I understand the ditch. In the past few years I have fallen on my face emotionally and financially. I had all of the responsibility of my life, or death... in my own hands. There was noone there to hold me, instruct me. No one there to share my burden or empower me to go on. I needed that then, and I need it now, my hope was(and is) in the future. No matter what you've gone through(or are going through now), look to the future... It will come through for you." ]She stops at that and takes another sip. She lokks at the young man across ]from her and sees him looking at her with some concern. "I am concerned" He says with all the heart he can muster. ]"While in this ditch, i see everyone else speed right by me. A few of them ]wave, but no one seems to stop and help. Every person for themselves. ]That's how life seems to be nowadays. Step all over the fallen." Looking her straight in the eyes he says. "As far as I can tell, "Every person for themselves" is not a policy here at Callahans. You are in the midst of many who will stop and help, any time of the day or night..." Many nodding heads are seen and echoes of agreement. He squeezes her hand gently then relases it and moves to the bar. "Mike a shot of Glinfiddich if you will... Thank you. A Toast, and an Offering: Callahans comprises the best company of beings I have ever known, the postings are as true to life as we are. However, when one of us is in trouble, real trouble... It may be hard to wait for postings to come through the door to get the support we need. In that case I offer my number, any reason, day or night (408) 436-6634. All I can promise is a good ear, alot of understanding and a warm heart" And now the toast" It's about time Ed. "To Callahans: People to share the new year with!!!!" > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >*PaTCHINK* ____________________________________________________________________ |Smile, yall look like yer atta funral er sumpthin. | |Bye! Ed Anderson, San Jose, CA. (408) 436 6634 | |____________________________________________________________________| Path: mit-eddie!wuarchive!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!swrinde!ucsd!ucbvax!agate!earthquake.Berkeley.EDU!gwh From: gwh@earthquake.Berkeley.EDU (George William Herbert) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Panama Message-ID: <1989Dec31.194735.6638@agate.berkeley.edu> Date: 31 Dec 89 19:47:35 GMT Sender: usenet@agate.berkeley.edu (USENET Administrator;;;;ZU44) Reply-To: gwh@ocf.Berkeley.EDU (George William Herbert) Organization: ucb Lines: 16 >"It is written," he says, "in the books of the Way: >`Never kill, when to maim is enough; > Never maim, when to wound is enough; > Never wound, when to threaten is enough; > Never threaten, when to be there is enough; > The greatest samurai is he who never needs to fight.'" Maniac strides up to the bar. It is also written that sometimes you bring life through the use of violence. Much as peace has its virtues, it is never a complete solution. A toast, i think, to those who fate smiles upon enough that they never have to make a decision to use violence. [Krash] -maniac