Path: mit-eddie!wuarchive!emory!dscatl!wa4mei!nanovx!ncsatl!miller From: miller@ncsatl.uucp (Alan Miller) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: I've found Callahans at last! Message-ID: <1458.25a4e301@ncsatl.uucp> Date: 5 Jan 90 18:10:09 GMT Organization: National Computer Systems, Atlanta, GA Lines: 15 I am a new user on the WorldNet. I have been looking at several catagories and getting more lost/overwhelmed with each passing 1000 messages or so. Then I saw Callahans and didn't feel quite so lonely anymore. I'm pleased to meet you all. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Alan Miller "Black holes are where God is dividing by 0" UUCP: ...gatech!ncsatl!miller USMail: National Computer Systems / 400 Northridge Rd / Atlanta, GA 30350 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Path: mit-eddie!rutgers!cs.utexas.edu!samsung!emory!dscatl!wa4mei!nanovx!ncsatl!miller From: miller@ncsatl.uucp (Alan Miller) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: I've found Callahans at last! Message-ID: <1458.25a4e301@ncsatl.uucp> Date: 5 Jan 90 18:10:09 GMT Organization: National Computer Systems, Atlanta, GA Lines: 15 I am a new user on the WorldNet. I have been looking at several catagories and getting more lost/overwhelmed with each passing 1000 messages or so. Then I saw Callahans and didn't feel quite so lonely anymore. I'm pleased to meet you all. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Alan Miller "Black holes are where God is dividing by 0" UUCP: ...gatech!ncsatl!miller USMail: National Computer Systems / 400 Northridge Rd / Atlanta, GA 30350 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Path: mit-eddie!wuarchive!brutus.cs.uiuc.edu!samsung!umich!umich!itivax!sharkey!lopez!strike From: strike@lopez.UUCP (Tim Bowser) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: The aviator speaks Message-ID: <1091@lopez.UUCP> Date: 9 Jan 90 04:47:43 GMT Organization: Great White North/UPLink, Marquette, MI Lines: 99 The conversation dims a bit as the apparition appears at the line. The green garbed aviator has risen from his seat at the bar, and with an air of tightly controlled agitation, tries to speak in a rational manner... "It seems odd to be standing here. Stranger yet when the urge has dragged me from my bed, where I am supposed to be sleeping for another flight in my silver-grey jet, ready to fight for truth, honor and fuel for the hungry shark behind me. Yet here I am , and the thoughts drive me still." "Who am I, that I finally step out of the shadows to speak? I am the Strikemaster, a nom-de-plume I acquired long ago when the CB craze spread across the land. Even then I was more of a listener, a gatherer of thought than a speaker. It is my curse; to think long and hard, and to debate my actions long after the time has passed. I have screamed across the sun drenched oceans, higher than any bird can fly, in the performance of my duty to country. I have stood time in the darkness of my room in the Alert Facility, waiting for the moment I hope never arrives; when I have to unleash Armageddon, and die knowing that I have failed to prevent it. I am a soldier, and have been for now these 15 years. It has wearied me, but I must still go on. To sacrifice one's life to save many more, even if it is merely to die of boredom, is still to me a noble way to live. The need for knights has not gone yet, Unbeliever, nor shall it ever when man threatens his fellow travelers on this dust mote we call home." "Why should any of this mean something to this gathering? You, who have seen maybe eighteen years of life, where I have seen nearly twice that? It is that you have to keep hope alive! I have seen in this room the pain of others. The tale of one individual dealt me an almost fatal blow, as it brought back terrifying memories of my own losses. To be alone for the holidays, on ready alert in the shack at Keflavic, Iceland, and to hear on the phone that your wife has taken everything you held dear and left you forever, can a man live through that? He can, though for three years I wished to the gods that I could just pass from this life to escape the pain. I am by nature a somber individual. I wear these muted colors by choice, for I am not given to showy displays of finery. But that loss, combined with my normal tendency towards pessimism, drove me to the brink of suicide more times than I care to admit. That I have survived is due to friends who cared, who gave of themselves when it was needed, and finally showed me that in life, there is always hope." "There is a basic truth in the spirit of Callahan's; "Pain shared is pain diminished". I was not aware of this truth for those years. In keeping all of that agony inside, I was literally trapped in time. I am now on my way back to normalcy, or as close to it as I can come. I still hesitate to drop the walls around my soul, or "the mask" as some of you so eloquently state it. The fortress around my heart has two purposes; to defend it from attack, and to shield others from the despair I still have to expunge. Neither of these actions would seem to be necessary to others, yet it is to me. Under the gruff exterior lies a soul with a weird sense of humor, quick to twist the most innocent of statements into the surreality of a Steven Wright skit. There still is a spark of the maniac who flew ultralight aircraft back when they still were underpowered lawn chairs tied to gossamer wings. I don't want to lose that flickering flame again. The walls have to stay, until such time as I regain the strength to live without them." "I gave all I thought I had to one person, and lost. For all the progress I have made over the past three years, I still feel that those first steps are just behind me. One slip, and it's back into the abyss. I am alone, and to me that is the most painful part of it all. When you have never had something, you don't miss it. I thought I had for a time that close companionship that Richard Bach calls "a soulmate", and the wrenching loss of that makes it all the harder to try again. "Once burned, twice shy" goes the saying. Funny how the shortest phrases are really distilled truth. Others, I am told, remember the joy they had and rush for the next object of their desire. I remember the searing fire and shy away, yet still there is the desire for the warmth. The fear must be conquered, but the burns have to heal." "It can be hard to keep hope alive. When you make mistakes, and the results are to you as overwhelming as the tide, hope may be the only thing to keep you going. Win your battles, my friends, by keeping that sacred fire burning. I had help from people such as yourselves, they shielded the winds of despair from my hearth enough to give me the chance to rekindle my flame. It burns steadier now, and with time I can return the warmth to someone else. I can now believe in the concept of soulmates, but before I resume the search, I have to be sure of myself. The walls have to come down. You cannot "be the light in someone else's eyes" if you keep your beacon hidden. This much I understand. First thing though, is to be certain that the flame won't go out when the fortress walls are dropped." "To The Inner Fires; may they burn bright for all to see, for those that you love to feel the warmth, and to let your soulmate find you wherever they may be..." And with an underhand movement too fast for the eye to see, he launches the glass into the fireplace, where it shatters into a million shards of fiery light... -- Tim Bowser ("Strikemaster"), Hardware Maintainer| rutgers!sharkey!lopez!strike GWN UPLink! BBS, The U.P.'s UNIX Connection | or strike@lopez.UUCP Marquette, Mi. (906)228-4399 | else (906)346-6735 voice ----> "Advanced technology cannot be distinguished from a rigged demo." <---- Path: mit-eddie!bu.edu!bu-cs!lll-winken!brutus.cs.uiuc.edu!samsung!emory!dscatl!wa4mei!nanovx!ncsatl!miller From: miller@ncsatl.uucp (Alan Miller) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: I've found Callahans at last! Message-ID: <1458.25a4e301@ncsatl.uucp> Date: 5 Jan 90 18:10:09 GMT Organization: National Computer Systems, Atlanta, GA Lines: 15 I am a new user on the WorldNet. I have been looking at several catagories and getting more lost/overwhelmed with each passing 1000 messages or so. Then I saw Callahans and didn't feel quite so lonely anymore. I'm pleased to meet you all. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Alan Miller "Black holes are where God is dividing by 0" UUCP: ...gatech!ncsatl!miller USMail: National Computer Systems / 400 Northridge Rd / Atlanta, GA 30350 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Path: mit-eddie!mit-amt!snorkelwacker!apple!brutus.cs.uiuc.edu!samsung!emory!dscatl!wa4mei!nanovx!ncsatl!miller From: miller@ncsatl.uucp (Alan Miller) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: I've found Callahans at last! Message-ID: <1458.25a4e301@ncsatl.uucp> Date: 5 Jan 90 18:10:09 GMT Organization: National Computer Systems, Atlanta, GA Lines: 15 I am a new user on the WorldNet. I have been looking at several catagories and getting more lost/overwhelmed with each passing 1000 messages or so. Then I saw Callahans and didn't feel quite so lonely anymore. I'm pleased to meet you all. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Alan Miller "Black holes are where God is dividing by 0" UUCP: ...gatech!ncsatl!miller USMail: National Computer Systems / 400 Northridge Rd / Atlanta, GA 30350 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Path: mit-eddie!mit-amt!snorkelwacker!apple!brutus.cs.uiuc.edu!samsung!umich!umich!itivax!sharkey!lopez!strike From: strike@lopez.UUCP (Tim Bowser) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: The aviator speaks Message-ID: <1091@lopez.UUCP> Date: 9 Jan 90 04:47:43 GMT Organization: Great White North/UPLink, Marquette, MI Lines: 99 The conversation dims a bit as the apparition appears at the line. The green garbed aviator has risen from his seat at the bar, and with an air of tightly controlled agitation, tries to speak in a rational manner... "It seems odd to be standing here. Stranger yet when the urge has dragged me from my bed, where I am supposed to be sleeping for another flight in my silver-grey jet, ready to fight for truth, honor and fuel for the hungry shark behind me. Yet here I am , and the thoughts drive me still." "Who am I, that I finally step out of the shadows to speak? I am the Strikemaster, a nom-de-plume I acquired long ago when the CB craze spread across the land. Even then I was more of a listener, a gatherer of thought than a speaker. It is my curse; to think long and hard, and to debate my actions long after the time has passed. I have screamed across the sun drenched oceans, higher than any bird can fly, in the performance of my duty to country. I have stood time in the darkness of my room in the Alert Facility, waiting for the moment I hope never arrives; when I have to unleash Armageddon, and die knowing that I have failed to prevent it. I am a soldier, and have been for now these 15 years. It has wearied me, but I must still go on. To sacrifice one's life to save many more, even if it is merely to die of boredom, is still to me a noble way to live. The need for knights has not gone yet, Unbeliever, nor shall it ever when man threatens his fellow travelers on this dust mote we call home." "Why should any of this mean something to this gathering? You, who have seen maybe eighteen years of life, where I have seen nearly twice that? It is that you have to keep hope alive! I have seen in this room the pain of others. The tale of one individual dealt me an almost fatal blow, as it brought back terrifying memories of my own losses. To be alone for the holidays, on ready alert in the shack at Keflavic, Iceland, and to hear on the phone that your wife has taken everything you held dear and left you forever, can a man live through that? He can, though for three years I wished to the gods that I could just pass from this life to escape the pain. I am by nature a somber individual. I wear these muted colors by choice, for I am not given to showy displays of finery. But that loss, combined with my normal tendency towards pessimism, drove me to the brink of suicide more times than I care to admit. That I have survived is due to friends who cared, who gave of themselves when it was needed, and finally showed me that in life, there is always hope." "There is a basic truth in the spirit of Callahan's; "Pain shared is pain diminished". I was not aware of this truth for those years. In keeping all of that agony inside, I was literally trapped in time. I am now on my way back to normalcy, or as close to it as I can come. I still hesitate to drop the walls around my soul, or "the mask" as some of you so eloquently state it. The fortress around my heart has two purposes; to defend it from attack, and to shield others from the despair I still have to expunge. Neither of these actions would seem to be necessary to others, yet it is to me. Under the gruff exterior lies a soul with a weird sense of humor, quick to twist the most innocent of statements into the surreality of a Steven Wright skit. There still is a spark of the maniac who flew ultralight aircraft back when they still were underpowered lawn chairs tied to gossamer wings. I don't want to lose that flickering flame again. The walls have to stay, until such time as I regain the strength to live without them." "I gave all I thought I had to one person, and lost. For all the progress I have made over the past three years, I still feel that those first steps are just behind me. One slip, and it's back into the abyss. I am alone, and to me that is the most painful part of it all. When you have never had something, you don't miss it. I thought I had for a time that close companionship that Richard Bach calls "a soulmate", and the wrenching loss of that makes it all the harder to try again. "Once burned, twice shy" goes the saying. Funny how the shortest phrases are really distilled truth. Others, I am told, remember the joy they had and rush for the next object of their desire. I remember the searing fire and shy away, yet still there is the desire for the warmth. The fear must be conquered, but the burns have to heal." "It can be hard to keep hope alive. When you make mistakes, and the results are to you as overwhelming as the tide, hope may be the only thing to keep you going. Win your battles, my friends, by keeping that sacred fire burning. I had help from people such as yourselves, they shielded the winds of despair from my hearth enough to give me the chance to rekindle my flame. It burns steadier now, and with time I can return the warmth to someone else. I can now believe in the concept of soulmates, but before I resume the search, I have to be sure of myself. The walls have to come down. You cannot "be the light in someone else's eyes" if you keep your beacon hidden. This much I understand. First thing though, is to be certain that the flame won't go out when the fortress walls are dropped." "To The Inner Fires; may they burn bright for all to see, for those that you love to feel the warmth, and to let your soulmate find you wherever they may be..." And with an underhand movement too fast for the eye to see, he launches the glass into the fireplace, where it shatters into a million shards of fiery light... -- Tim Bowser ("Strikemaster"), Hardware Maintainer| rutgers!sharkey!lopez!strike GWN UPLink! BBS, The U.P.'s UNIX Connection | or strike@lopez.UUCP Marquette, Mi. (906)228-4399 | else (906)346-6735 voice ----> "Advanced technology cannot be distinguished from a rigged demo." <---- Path: mit-eddie!rutgers!cs.utexas.edu!samsung!umich!umich!itivax!sharkey!lopez!strike From: strike@lopez.UUCP (Tim Bowser) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: The aviator speaks Message-ID: <1091@lopez.UUCP> Date: 9 Jan 90 04:47:43 GMT Organization: Great White North/UPLink, Marquette, MI Lines: 99 The conversation dims a bit as the apparition appears at the line. The green garbed aviator has risen from his seat at the bar, and with an air of tightly controlled agitation, tries to speak in a rational manner... "It seems odd to be standing here. Stranger yet when the urge has dragged me from my bed, where I am supposed to be sleeping for another flight in my silver-grey jet, ready to fight for truth, honor and fuel for the hungry shark behind me. Yet here I am , and the thoughts drive me still." "Who am I, that I finally step out of the shadows to speak? I am the Strikemaster, a nom-de-plume I acquired long ago when the CB craze spread across the land. Even then I was more of a listener, a gatherer of thought than a speaker. It is my curse; to think long and hard, and to debate my actions long after the time has passed. I have screamed across the sun drenched oceans, higher than any bird can fly, in the performance of my duty to country. I have stood time in the darkness of my room in the Alert Facility, waiting for the moment I hope never arrives; when I have to unleash Armageddon, and die knowing that I have failed to prevent it. I am a soldier, and have been for now these 15 years. It has wearied me, but I must still go on. To sacrifice one's life to save many more, even if it is merely to die of boredom, is still to me a noble way to live. The need for knights has not gone yet, Unbeliever, nor shall it ever when man threatens his fellow travelers on this dust mote we call home." "Why should any of this mean something to this gathering? You, who have seen maybe eighteen years of life, where I have seen nearly twice that? It is that you have to keep hope alive! I have seen in this room the pain of others. The tale of one individual dealt me an almost fatal blow, as it brought back terrifying memories of my own losses. To be alone for the holidays, on ready alert in the shack at Keflavic, Iceland, and to hear on the phone that your wife has taken everything you held dear and left you forever, can a man live through that? He can, though for three years I wished to the gods that I could just pass from this life to escape the pain. I am by nature a somber individual. I wear these muted colors by choice, for I am not given to showy displays of finery. But that loss, combined with my normal tendency towards pessimism, drove me to the brink of suicide more times than I care to admit. That I have survived is due to friends who cared, who gave of themselves when it was needed, and finally showed me that in life, there is always hope." "There is a basic truth in the spirit of Callahan's; "Pain shared is pain diminished". I was not aware of this truth for those years. In keeping all of that agony inside, I was literally trapped in time. I am now on my way back to normalcy, or as close to it as I can come. I still hesitate to drop the walls around my soul, or "the mask" as some of you so eloquently state it. The fortress around my heart has two purposes; to defend it from attack, and to shield others from the despair I still have to expunge. Neither of these actions would seem to be necessary to others, yet it is to me. Under the gruff exterior lies a soul with a weird sense of humor, quick to twist the most innocent of statements into the surreality of a Steven Wright skit. There still is a spark of the maniac who flew ultralight aircraft back when they still were underpowered lawn chairs tied to gossamer wings. I don't want to lose that flickering flame again. The walls have to stay, until such time as I regain the strength to live without them." "I gave all I thought I had to one person, and lost. For all the progress I have made over the past three years, I still feel that those first steps are just behind me. One slip, and it's back into the abyss. I am alone, and to me that is the most painful part of it all. When you have never had something, you don't miss it. I thought I had for a time that close companionship that Richard Bach calls "a soulmate", and the wrenching loss of that makes it all the harder to try again. "Once burned, twice shy" goes the saying. Funny how the shortest phrases are really distilled truth. Others, I am told, remember the joy they had and rush for the next object of their desire. I remember the searing fire and shy away, yet still there is the desire for the warmth. The fear must be conquered, but the burns have to heal." "It can be hard to keep hope alive. When you make mistakes, and the results are to you as overwhelming as the tide, hope may be the only thing to keep you going. Win your battles, my friends, by keeping that sacred fire burning. I had help from people such as yourselves, they shielded the winds of despair from my hearth enough to give me the chance to rekindle my flame. It burns steadier now, and with time I can return the warmth to someone else. I can now believe in the concept of soulmates, but before I resume the search, I have to be sure of myself. The walls have to come down. You cannot "be the light in someone else's eyes" if you keep your beacon hidden. This much I understand. First thing though, is to be certain that the flame won't go out when the fortress walls are dropped." "To The Inner Fires; may they burn bright for all to see, for those that you love to feel the warmth, and to let your soulmate find you wherever they may be..." And with an underhand movement too fast for the eye to see, he launches the glass into the fireplace, where it shatters into a million shards of fiery light... -- Tim Bowser ("Strikemaster"), Hardware Maintainer| rutgers!sharkey!lopez!strike GWN UPLink! BBS, The U.P.'s UNIX Connection | or strike@lopez.UUCP Marquette, Mi. (906)228-4399 | else (906)346-6735 voice ----> "Advanced technology cannot be distinguished from a rigged demo." <---- Path: mit-eddie!rutgers!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!ucbvax!agate!sandstorm.Berkeley.EDU!gwh From: gwh@sandstorm.Berkeley.EDU (George William Herbert) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Life; and Masks Message-ID: <1990Jan9.073457.12286@agate.berkeley.edu> Date: 9 Jan 90 07:34:57 GMT Sender: usenet@agate.berkeley.edu (USENET Administrator;;;;ZU44) Reply-To: gwh@ocf.Berkeley.EDU (George William Herbert) Organization: ucb Lines: 39 Maniac struggles free from the vacation-induced stupor that has overtaken him of late, looks around the bar, and wanders up to Mike. "Romulan Ale?" Mike looks at him sorta funny. "You Know how bad that stuff is for you?" "Just don't serve it in a plastic cup." "Anyway, I was wondering as life floated on by if there were any out there who were sucessfully making livings being generalists. If so, email me, i could use a bit of cheering up [don't worry, I am one and will remain one. It's not a life and death decision or anything]. "A few messages back i noticed some discussion of the merits of masks, and last message i saw had some of walls inside yourself. Having some experience with both, i thought i'd chip in my two cents. Masks do what they are supposed to, they give an impression you want to to people. I personally decided that i would rather let people see what they think in me, not what i think. It scares a lot of people off, but it has gotten me a bunch of very close friends too. Your decision, it can work either way. ANd as for internal walls: I had a wall once. I needed to keep a particularly nasty corner of myself under control, and walling it off and denying it worked. For a while. Relying on internal walls has the disatvantage that they break, and mine came close enough to doing so [with possibly fatal results for someone] that i scared myself into changing. It was simply easier and safer to deal with the problem. Salut. [COUGH] Aiee, Mike, you chilled it too much! Mike looks over. "You have to be Joking." A blue-skinned visitor looks up. "He's right, it ought to be burning my e eyes from where he's standing." Mike looks over with a nasty look. "ANd when did You sneak in?" "Oh, i just gave up my own race and fammily for peace." "I'll get you one warm" -maniac [Hey, Mike, do we allow Plants in now? There's a Pine over in the corner, arguing with Jilara, and i'm not sure whether to leaf it alone or not. "Just don't needle it about it's kingdom."] Path: mit-eddie!rutgers!cs.utexas.edu!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!ucbvax!ucdavis!pollux!ez000691 From: ez000691@pollux Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Good things on TV Summary: more wining Keywords: pun Message-ID: <6410@ucdavis.ucdavis.edu> Date: 9 Jan 90 07:16:56 GMT References: <358@sixhub.UUCP> <5051@sns4.fps.com> Sender: uucp@ucdavis.ucdavis.edu Reply-To: ez000691@pollux.ucdavis.edu (Shadow) Followup-To: alt.callahans Distribution: alt Organization: University of California, Davis Lines: 30 In article <5051@sns4.fps.com> mbn@fpssun.fps.com (Mike Northam ext 2651) writes: >Grabbing my wine, I wander over to the chalk line and state: "Here's to >happiness, and frivolity; let the good times roll! There's been an awful >lot of sad talk in here lately, and I certainly don't begrudge that, as >them that needs, finds there way here somehow, but let's not all forget the >main reason for Callahan's (a nod in Mike's direction), funs and puns! >Why whine when you can wine? (Or wine not kick back and enjoy yourselves.) >-- >Mike Northam mbn@fpssun.fps.com Home:123 11' 40"W 45 37' 14"N >(503) 641-3151 x2651 {tektronix}!nosun!fpssun!mbn >*FPS Computing has a company spokesperson, and it's certainly not me* >"Every now and then things become clear." Jane Siberry, "The Walking" "Oh, wine heck did you have to start encouraging me?" Shadow gripes. "And things were looking so rose..." "I'd love to jump in," rumbles Doc Webster, "but I'm drawing a Blanc." "Oh, hell! The Doc must be sick!" Jake shouts, oozing false worry. "Somebody call him a Cabernet!" Long Drink counters, "Jake, you're acting like a vintage idiot." "Ah, mon ami," Gilly says, with an outrageous French accent, "perhaps you have had a little too much yourself, ma sherry?" "Would you clowns," Mike grunts from behind the bar, "kindly knock off the carafe?" "Don't worry, Mike," Jilara chimes in, "just a little dry humor." Shadow, by this point, has crawled under a table. Shadow -- From the only slightly twisted mind of... "In case we decide to ez000691@pollux.ucdavis.edu surrender to them, Number One." Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!ucbvax!agate!sandstorm.Berkeley.EDU!gwh From: gwh@sandstorm.Berkeley.EDU (George William Herbert) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Life; and Masks Message-ID: <1990Jan9.073457.12286@agate.berkeley.edu> Date: 9 Jan 90 07:34:57 GMT Sender: usenet@agate.berkeley.edu (USENET Administrator;;;;ZU44) Reply-To: gwh@ocf.Berkeley.EDU (George William Herbert) Organization: ucb Lines: 39 Maniac struggles free from the vacation-induced stupor that has overtaken him of late, looks around the bar, and wanders up to Mike. "Romulan Ale?" Mike looks at him sorta funny. "You Know how bad that stuff is for you?" "Just don't serve it in a plastic cup." "Anyway, I was wondering as life floated on by if there were any out there who were sucessfully making livings being generalists. If so, email me, i could use a bit of cheering up [don't worry, I am one and will remain one. It's not a life and death decision or anything]. "A few messages back i noticed some discussion of the merits of masks, and last message i saw had some of walls inside yourself. Having some experience with both, i thought i'd chip in my two cents. Masks do what they are supposed to, they give an impression you want to to people. I personally decided that i would rather let people see what they think in me, not what i think. It scares a lot of people off, but it has gotten me a bunch of very close friends too. Your decision, it can work either way. ANd as for internal walls: I had a wall once. I needed to keep a particularly nasty corner of myself under control, and walling it off and denying it worked. For a while. Relying on internal walls has the disatvantage that they break, and mine came close enough to doing so [with possibly fatal results for someone] that i scared myself into changing. It was simply easier and safer to deal with the problem. Salut. [COUGH] Aiee, Mike, you chilled it too much! Mike looks over. "You have to be Joking." A blue-skinned visitor looks up. "He's right, it ought to be burning my e eyes from where he's standing." Mike looks over with a nasty look. "ANd when did You sneak in?" "Oh, i just gave up my own race and fammily for peace." "I'll get you one warm" -maniac [Hey, Mike, do we allow Plants in now? There's a Pine over in the corner, arguing with Jilara, and i'm not sure whether to leaf it alone or not. "Just don't needle it about it's kingdom."]