Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!bbn!granite!mandel From: mandel@granite.cr.bull.com (Mark Mandel) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: The Woman Beside Summary: clarification Message-ID: <1990Jan22.204117.12785@granite.cr.bull.com> Date: 22 Jan 90 20:41:17 GMT References: <9001151717.AA03010@fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM> <9060011@hpfcso.HP.COM> Reply-To: mandel@granite.cr.bull.com (Mark Mandel) Organization: Bull HN Information Systems Inc. Lines: 35 In article <9060011@hpfcso.HP.COM> daq@hpfcso.HP.COM (Doug Quarnstrom) writes: >> I'm sorry you're so bitter about relationships and marriage. >Why are you sorry? There are many ways to live a life. I could >just as easily say that I am sorry you are married. There is >no need to feel sympathy for me. Looks like we're not quite connecting. I didn't say I was sorry you were solitary. On the contrary, if if gives pleasure to you and harm to none, I'm glad of it. I said I was sorry you were *bitter*, because I've always felt sustained bitterness to be a kind of acid that eats away at the container. >I understand perfectly that people can gain from relationships, >and I am happy for you just as you are sorry for me. See above. >> Mike, a decaf coffee please, with milk. >You know, I have always sort of wondered what the point of decaf >coffee is. It's a pleasant-tasting hot drink that doesn't keep me awake if I drink it after suppertime. I seem to be quite sensitive to stimulants like caffeine. (Silverblack looks at his coffee cup.) I don't know house policy on these... (Jake catches his attention and gives the thumbs-up.) OK, then. (To the chalk line.) To whatever path each of us chooses to walk without stepping on anyone else! (CRASH Clash clatter) -- -- Mark Mandel (InterNet: Mandel@granite.cr.bull.com) /* My employer is not responsible for anything I say, do, think, or eat. */ Path: mit-eddie!bu.edu!bu-cs!bu-pub!spacey From: spacey@bu-pub.bu.edu (Eva Chan) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Nose to the Grindstone Message-ID: Date: 23 Jan 90 05:43:38 GMT Sender: news@bu.edu.bu.edu Distribution: alt Organization: Boston University Computer Science Lines: 58 Slowly the door opens and two long ears appear. Then the rest of the bunny appears in the doorway, carrying an Eddie Bauer briefcase with its shoulder strap nearly slung around her neck. The bag is laiden down with note books and big heavy (and terribly over-priced) textbooks. Huffing and puffing, the bunny makes her way to the bar. "MIKE! A cold glass of carrot juice. PLEASE!" And plops a buck on the bar. Mike humbly obliges. The bunny takes the drink and slowly hobbles over to her little place near the fire. She sits in front of Luru and takes a big gulp of carrot juice. "Ahhhhh! I needed that! Ugh! First week of classes is done, and I still don't feel as if I am ready to get back into the swing of things yet..." "I still don't seem to have that fire going yet...It's still smoldering a bit. I think I need to find some enthusiasm for school. Maybe i am just getting a bit bored? Or even a bit tired of this rat race! Either way, I feel that I must go on and strive. That's what my mind is telling me, but it is hard to do." With a deep sigh, the bunny slowly transform back into human form. Closing her eyes and sighing a deep and tried sigh, she leans back and takes a short nap before her next class. -- Eva Chan spacey@bu-pub.bu.edu Cheers! And may you enjoy life! "Why are grocery carts made with one wheel that has a mind of its own and runs cockeyed to the other three? Why do so many people close their eyes when they brush their teeth? Why do people believe that pushing an elevator button several times will make the car come quicker? Why can't we just spell it "orderves" and get it over with? Why do people drop a letter in the mailbox and then open the lid again to see if it really went down? Why are there zebras? Why do people put milk cartons back into the fridge with just a tiny bit of milk lest in the bottom? Why aren't there any traditional Halloween carols? Why does every tree seem to have one old stubborn leaf that just won't let go?" - from "All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten" by Robert Fulgham Path: mit-eddie!bu.edu!bu-cs!mirror!necntc!ima!haddock!karl From: karl@haddock.ima.isc.com (Karl Heuer) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Karl returns Message-ID: <15732@haddock.ima.isc.com> Date: 23 Jan 90 05:33:07 GMT Reply-To: karl@haddock.ima.isc.com (Karl Heuer) Organization: Interactive Systems, Cambridge, MA 02138-5302 Lines: 39 The door opens. A few people glance over, and pause as if trying to remember where they've seen this figure before. He certainly hasn't been seen in Callahans in the last couple of months... The newcomer stomps the snow off of his feet, thus providing a clue as to the climate in his neighborhood. This makes the absence of a warm jacket a bit conspicuous, which is a clue: he was similarly dressed when he left, and though there was no snow on the ground at the time, even then it was cold enough for his attire to be unusual. He brushes a few snowflakes from his beard, and looks around the room. He nods to Silverblack. "Saluton, Marko. Oni nuligis la januaran kunsidon pro la semajnfina vetero; do mi devas iri al alia loko por praktiki la lingvon. Kial ne al la transtempa trinkejo? Sed mi vidas multajn nekomprenantojn. Mi krokodilu." He picks up a plastic toy crocodile, the significance of which is lost to most of the audience, and continues in English. "Final clue. I had a companion last time around: a short teddy bear by the name of Willy." The sudden clicks of recognition are almost audible. "I've been staying away due to the high traffic, though I've walked past and listened in. Willy hasn't been around lately because I grounded him." He finds an open space near the fire and sits down. "The incident occurred over the holidays. Willy saw a woman wearing a sweatshirt with a teddy bear picture on the front. He got excited and wanted to show me. So I followed him over, and then he said, with his usual poor choice of words, `Excuse me, lady, but Karl wants to see your bear chest.'" He touches a spot on his face and winces as if with the memory of a bruise recently healed. "That was about a month ago. He's not grounded anymore, but when he saw the snow outside he decided he should be hibernating. He'll probably show up later. Anyway, I just thought I stop in and reintroduce myself briefly before bending your collective ear with my troubles." He closes his eyes and basks in the heat of the fireplace. Karl Heuer karl@haddock.ima.isc.com rutgers!harvard!ima!haddock!karl Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!think!bbn!granite!mandel From: mandel@granite.cr.bull.com (Mark Mandel) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Karl returns Message-ID: <1990Jan23.220048.8026@granite.cr.bull.com> Date: 23 Jan 90 22:00:48 GMT References: <15732@haddock.ima.isc.com> Reply-To: mandel@granite.cr.bull.com (Mark Mandel) Organization: Bull HN Information Systems Inc. Lines: 18 In article <15732@haddock.ima.isc.com> karl@haddock.ima.isc.com (Karl Heuer) writes: >He nods to Silverblack. ... "Kial ne al la transtempa trinkejo? ... >Mi krokodilu." He picks up a plastic toy crocodile, the >significance of which is lost to most of the audience, and continues in >English. ^^ <--- (Those are Silverblack's eyebrows rising in surprise. He raises his glass, too, but in greeting.) Saluton, salaton, pipraton, pipmuson! Au` trinku au` drinku, lau` via plac^o. (Enough of this Esperanto nonsense, which is what it literally is. As the crocodile suggested, this is not the place for it.) Many crossroads, indeed, idea-sharer! -- -- Mark Mandel (InterNet: Mandel@granite.cr.bull.com) /* My employer is not responsible for anything I say, do, think, or eat. */ Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!ucbvax!fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM!jane From: jane@fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM (Jane Beckman x4030) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Speaking in Tongues Message-ID: <9001231655.AA03174@fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM> Date: 24 Jan 90 00:55:35 GMT Sender: daemon@ucbvax.BERKELEY.EDU Lines: 7 Jilara grins from a corner. "Damn, but I thought I'd forgotten most my Esperanto, but I caught a good part of that. Been almost fifteen years... If we get into something like this we could all be speaking in tongues, and need a suomi to explain. Still, those gaels can take their licks, and the French will have to blow their horns to speak Cornish..." She ducks under the table to avoid objects thrown by those who understand savoir-faire... Path: mit-eddie!rutgers!usc!ucsd!ucsdhub!hp-sdd!hplabsy!hpfcso!daq From: daq@hpfcso.HP.COM (Doug Quarnstrom) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Cynic on Beauty and Pain Message-ID: <9060014@hpfcso.HP.COM> Date: 23 Jan 90 04:29:53 GMT Organization: Hewlett-Packard, Fort Collins, CO, USA Lines: 68 The Cynic again enters the bar and crosses to the makeshift bulletin board to tack up another message. Anyone reading the paper sees the following: On Beauty and Pain Nearly three decades of life have left me with a curious reaction to beauty. I thought that I would mention it and see if anyone else understands or agrees with my impressions. Imagine, if you will, gazing at the most beautiful scene you can imagine. Imagine a wonderful sunset, or the face of a lover. Imagine a snow covered field on a moonlit night. What is your reaction? Is it joy or euphoria. Is it comfort, a warm sense of well being? My reactions to such a scenes tend to include a very strong overtone of pain and melancholy. Sometimes I almost cannot bear the aching in my chest when beholding a particular sublime image. I have spent some time trying to figure out why this is. I have some ideas. When confronted by beauty, my initial reaction may be the same as that of anyone else. There is an initial sense of awe and joy. I honestly believe that pain reaction comes from the transitory nature of the experience. Certainly the beauty is wonderful, but it cannot be captured and conjured up when it is needed in the future. A wonderful experience offers no ammunition during times of future pain. The fact that any beauty, no matter how great, begins to fade in the memory immediately, and becomes such a thin ghost of itself so quickly, makes this beauty very difficult to deal with. When confronted with these things, my mind says, "How wonderful," but my heart is saying, "It will be gone soon and will give you no comfort when you need it." Perhaps it is only that I want to possess and control. Perhaps I have an addictive nature that cannot be content with brief exposure, but needs to experience a thing over and over until I tire of it. Certainly I know that all people must deal with the transitory nature of beauty and happiness for that matter, but I cannot control the way I react to things. Has anyone else felt these things. I am sure that this feeling must be pretty common, but I would be interested to hear others express it. Cynic It all passes by my eyes so quickly It is here and then it is gone I cannot even rember what attracted me I'll forget it all before long If only it would tarry for a moment If it would stay for a night and a day Perhaps I could recall Maybe it would remind me What it is to be alive To struggle and strive for something better Instead of just something Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!yale!cs.utexas.edu!rutgers!shelby!csli!cphoenix From: cphoenix@csli.Stanford.EDU (Chris Phoenix) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Cynic on Beauty and Pain Message-ID: <11889@csli.Stanford.EDU> Date: 24 Jan 90 05:30:13 GMT References: <9060014@hpfcso.HP.COM> Sender: cphoenix@csli.Stanford.EDU (Chris Phoenix) Reply-To: cphoenix@csli.stanford.edu (Chris Phoenix) Organization: Center for the Study of Language and Information, Stanford U. Lines: 68 In article <9060014@hpfcso.HP.COM> daq@hpfcso.HP.COM (Doug Quarnstrom) writes: >Nearly three decades of life have left me with a curious >reaction to beauty. I thought that I would mention it >and see if anyone else understands or agrees with my >impressions. Well, I have less than two decades of life, but I have a very similar reaction, though milder, to some kinds of beauty. >I have spent some time trying to figure out why this is. >I have some ideas. When confronted by beauty, my initial >reaction may be the same as that of anyone else. There >is an initial sense of awe and joy. I honestly believe >that pain reaction comes from the transitory nature of >the experience. For me, there's a definite feeling of something missing. I really want to share the beauty with someone. This usually happens when I'm walking around, looking at nature. I'll see something really beautiful, and I'll start to say, or feel, "Wow, look at that!" ... and then I'll realize there's no one there to say it to. This makes me feel really sad, both because it reminds me that there's no one in my life right now that I can share beauty with like that, and because I just want someone else to see it too. It's quite possible that this is similar to your feeling that the beauty will fade. Maybe I think if I share it with someone else, it's not as wasted as if only I see it. Most works of art don't strike me as really beautiful, but if one does I get the same feeling--even though I know it won't disappear. The exception is computer art. I don't feel like someone else should be sharing it with me, probably because I know most people won't find it beautiful. >The fact that any beauty, no matter how great, begins >to fade in the memory immediately, and becomes such >a thin ghost of itself so quickly, makes this beauty >very difficult to deal with. When confronted with >these things, my mind says, "How wonderful," but my >heart is saying, "It will be gone soon and will >give you no comfort when you need it." This by itself doesn't really bother me. I don't look to beauty for future comfort, just for present joy. So if I derive joy from it, I don't feel that it has let me down. And if I don't derive joy from it, it's not beautiful, so the question is moot. What bothers me is when I'm the only one to see the beauty. This does feel like a waste. >Perhaps it is only that I want to possess and control. >Perhaps I have an addictive nature that cannot be content >with brief exposure, but needs to experience a thing >over and over until I tire of it. Certainly I know that >all people must deal with the transitory nature of >beauty and happiness for that matter, but I cannot >control the way I react to things. I generally don't want to possess and control things, but I still feel the same way. I don't know what that means, though. And I deal with the transitory nature of beauty by simply expecting less of it. Did you write that poem? I like it... -- Chris Phoenix | A harp is a nude piano. cphoenix@csli.Stanford.EDU | "More input! More input!" ...And I only kiss your shadow, I cannot see your hand, you're a stranger now unto me, lost in the dangling conversation, and the superficial sighs... Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!usc!brutus.cs.uiuc.edu!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!math.lsa.umich.edu!sharkey!lopez!flash From: flash@lopez.UUCP (Gary Bourgois) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: A Hoser enters Keywords: hoser Message-ID: <1120@lopez.UUCP> Date: 24 Jan 90 07:42:24 GMT Organization: Great White North/UPLink, Marquette, MI Lines: 47 The stocky Northern Michigander enters, his beard encrusted with ice and snow. Removing his toque, he nods knowingly at the SAC flyer, and walks over to the bar. "You must be Mike", he says, and orders a coffee, black, and hopes it will help him thaw out. "I don't usually venture out during a blizzard, but I have heard some nice things about this place.... Hoserhaus is just too quiet for me on a night like tonight, the wind howling outside, the snowflakes twinking against the window..." "Just could not get into anything tonight. I am trying to wade through a PERN book, but the realities of life leave no room for Dragons." Mike nods, understandingly, as the Michigander unbuttons his thick brown jacket. Glancing at the patrons, he notices how much younger they all are, and thinks to himself how much younger the entire world seems these days, and yet, he does not feel like a "grup"... "It might seem odd to propose a toast with black coffee, but here goes... This one is for the lady on South Padre Island. She could not take the six month winter, and so we packed the camper, and she left before the snows began. Now, four months later, it is still snowing, as it will for at least two more months... Each week I send her a care package, and curse the disease LUPUS that makes us winter apart. We do what we must.... God, though, I miss her......" Noting it is nearing last call, the Michigander tells Mike to refill the SAC flier's drink. He pays for it, and puts an extra Purchasing Unit on the bar. It will be a long walk back in the quiet snowfall. A time to think. The Michgander will probably rattle around hoserhaus til 4 or 5 AM. For now, he sits at the bar, staring silently at the grounds in the bottom of his cup... Thinking. Thinking. Remembering. -- == 14.313 == Amateur Radio Forum Daily @ 11:00AM Eastern time == 14.313 == == Gary Bourgois flash@lopez (rutgers!sharkey!lopez!flash) GWN UPLink == == 3.950 Nationwide Amateur Radio Nightly after 0200z=Learning Channel == =============== WB8EOH = The Eccentric Old Hippie = WB8EOH ================ Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!yale!cs.utexas.edu!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!ucbvax!mtxinu!unisoft!greywolf From: greywolf@unisoft.UUCP (The Grey Wolf) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Paladins And Unicorns, Quests, Inner Fires, More Message-ID: <2770@unisoft.UUCP> Date: 24 Jan 90 06:00:15 GMT References: <9001151717.AA03010@fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM> <90020.234601EMD101@PSUVM.BITNET> Reply-To: greywolf@unisoft.UUCP (The Grey Wolf) Lines: 106 A grey wolf with white paws, a white diamond on his forehead and a soft white underbelly somehow manages to pull the door open and plod in somewhat less than gracefully, somewhat despairing, rather confused, very weary but very much still alive. { Mike, just a very large hot chocolate with lots of freshly whipped cream and two regular marshmallows. } The wolf manages to dig out a (large) silver coin, toss it in the air and knock it just over the front edge of the bar, where it slides halfway to the back edge. { Hello, Tal, Gilly, Chris, and all of you here... } He collects his drink from Mike ... { Thank you, Michael...} .. and makes his way towards the other familiar faces. { It's good to "see" you all again... and I need your help. Not advice, only ears -- comments are welcome, though...} { Before I get started, Taldin, Chris, Gilly and Running Wolf, I did get your mail; haven't had much time to reply lately, and when I have, my mind has been so distracted that I haven't been able to construct a co- herent reply to your initial discussion... not without including the letter. } { I have just finished reading a *wonderful* book called "The Way of the Peaceful Warrior", by Dan Millman. While I don't always hold the things it has to say so dear, most of the book makes a whole lot of sense. I have, as of late, begun to feel a very strange stirring within -- it smacks of discontent in some form or another, and I cannot identify the feeling. Something is going to happen to me soon, I feel, and I don't know whether or not it is good or bad. It is, however, leaving me feeling incredibly strange. Prior to reading this book, I began to feel this way. Reading the book has not accentuated it per se, but it certainly has increased my aware- ness of the situation. All day today (Tuesday), most of Monday, I have been just waiting for the rock to hit the water, and to discover what awaits me. I don't know how I'm going to react to it, for it hasn't happened yet. I have found myself wishing that whatever was going to happen would happen soon, or that some- thing somewhat major would happen in the meantime, because at this point I could use a good cry/howl (the difference in volume is quite noticeable; a cry is mostly silent in my case). I don't understand it -- why this feeling of despair... I mean, it's like this. My job is stable. I am part of several groups, all of which are more than groups, they are collections of individual people. This includes everyone I know through Callahan's, this includes the sysad team here at work, and it includes several other, distinctly different, groups of friends. I can afford wheels, I can afford food in my stomach, I can afford a roof over my head and clothes on my back and a means of communicating with my soulmate ( Pacific * Bell ***LOVES*** me... ), and I still have money left over to put away into savings. My relationship occasionally hits me as half a relationship simply be- cause she doesn't feel she can leave the situation she is currently in, and because she doesn't feel I'm financially ready for her just yet (no, she is not after me for my money -- I don't consort with those types!. I know her better than you do, so don't say anything ;-). And sometimes that gets to me. But I feel as though I can wait it out now; sometimes I feel like telling her, "Okay, fine, be that way -- if you want me, you know where to find me, but I'm tired of waiting. I have other things to do and other people to meet and other experiences to have." Other times, I am silent, and understand her predicament and know that nothing I can say or do will ever make anything happen any faster. But for the most part, I'm happy with what I have; all I have to do is forget about that hole that isn't filled. } He stops to lap at his (now lukewarm) chocolate (with some whipping cream floating around the top)... If a wolf could cry and shed tears in a human(oid) fashion, this one would be doing so... in fact, he metamorphoses into his half-elfin form at this point, sits at his usual table with (what he calls) the "Killer Death Coffee Mug from Hell", and proceeds to let himself fall apart. His body cries, his mind speaks. { It's so easy to imagine this; I'm not afraid to show what I feel, to show a weakness. Higher ones, higher one, or even my higher self (if I can find him/her), and friends, at this point I am lost. If anyone has anything to say, even if it's "You ramble too much", I can find comfort in it at this point. } "Did her eyes at the Turn of the Century Tell me plainly How we'll meet, how we'll love? Oh, let life So transform me Like leaves we touched, we danced. We once Knew the story As Autumn called, and we both remembered All those many years ago I'm sure we know..." { Am I an empath...? Or am I a vampire? I hope i am not the latter... } { perhaps I am both. } h ... e --- l ... p -- "You guys are NUTS! En-Vee-Tee-Ess, NUTS!" -- History of the World, part I. Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!usc!bbn!granite!mandel From: mandel@granite.cr.bull.com (Mark Mandel) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Speaking in Tongues Message-ID: <1990Jan24.135945.10815@granite.cr.bull.com> Date: 24 Jan 90 13:59:45 GMT References: <9001231655.AA03174@fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM> Reply-To: mandel@granite.cr.bull.com (Mark Mandel) Organization: Bull HN Information Systems Inc. Lines: 14 Silverblack -- he almost wrote "Silvertongue", hah! -- gets another drink from Mike, leaving a dollar on the bar, and sits down. "Some of my friends know this, but only one or two of you here do, till now: before coming to work where I do now, I was, really and truly, a cunning linguist!" (As he ducks the carrots, cushions, etc. being flung his way he accidentally spills his beer; the liquid, foam, and mug land on the floor together half on a fallen seat cushion, making a sound like "PhD!") -- -- Mark Mandel (InterNet: Mandel@granite.cr.bull.com) /* My employer is not responsible for anything I say, do, think, or eat. */