[3650] in Central_America
New quotes for Sat Sep 28
daemon@ATHENA.MIT.EDU (Initializer.SysDaemon)
Sat Sep 28 01:28:25 1991
Date: Sat, 28 Sep 91 01:27:36 EDT
From: root@charon.MIT.EDU (Initializer.SysDaemon)
To: ca-mtg@bloom-beacon.mit.edu
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amberle (Amberle S Ferrian):
Attention unidentifed starship. This is the Federation Princess-class
frigate _USS Altalga Noreal_. You have breached Federation airspace without
permission. Please identify yourself and your intentions. This is your only
warning.
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dalamar (Craig Andera):
{From system: This user's .plan file is not world readable}
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douzzer (Daniel Pouzzner):
UROP in Lab. for Comp. Sci. Spoken Language Systems,
continuing into the fall. I have my own office!
Home address is still
Dan Pouzzner
22 Country Lane
Collinsville, CT. 06022
[for what it's good for.]
Hey, guess what! I'm not afraid of being depressed anymore!
Let me rephrase that- I'm not afraid I'll be depressed anymore.
That's good, I'm sure, since there's no safety catch on my window
on the 13th floor of MacGregor...
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gechrist (George E Christopher):
{From system: This user's .plan file is not world readable}
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sethg (Seth A. Gordon):
<strat@access.digex.com>:
I was quite shocked to hear on CNN Headline News today that [Dr. Seuss]
always secretly rooted for the Grinch to get away with stealing
Christmas, but didn't ever want the kids to know. I'm going to treat
this one as your standard journalists-speaking-ill-of-the-dead
situation. There are some things that man was not meant to know.
<tm2b+@andrew.cmu.edu>:
---------- Forwarded message begins here ----------
The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply.
Your question was:
> Whither troff?
And in response, thus spake the Oracle:
} In the faraway land of Bimingham-Bean
} King Horowitz stared at his monitor screen.
} The king he was mad, he was sore, he was vexed.
} He was staring at lines of unformatted text!
} The lines were uneven, unjustified too.
} Where paragraphs started, he hadn't a clue.
} He stared at the screen 'til he though he would break.
} His eyes, how they watered! His back, how it ached!
} Suddenly Horowitz could take it no more!
} He struck at the viewscreen which smashed to the floor!
} "I will no longer stare 'til my eyes start to bleed!
} What I require is some text I can read!
} Send for my scientist," he said to his aide,
} "It is time that he earned all the wealth he is paid!"
} And so the call went through the streets of the town,
} To search for the man, and when he was found,
} The Official Court Scientist of Bimingham-Bean
} Was involved in an act that was rather obscene.
} Not bothered the least by the odd circumstance,
} He turned himself round and he pulled up his pants.
} He was brought by the guards in front of the king.
} And the Scientist said, "You wanted something?"
} King Horowitz Second, of Verdly-on-Shext,
} said, "Yes! I want something to format my text!"
} "Ah," said the scientist, "Text you can read?
} You're in luck, Royal Highness, I have just what you need!
} Allow me a day, to draw up the plans.
} I'll deliver them right to your hot little hands!"
} Next day, in the throne room, the court was assembled.
} An army of morons is what it resembled.
} And in the room's center, the star of the scene,
} The Official Court Scientist of Bimingham-Bean
} Manned a projector, and an 80-inch screen.
} He said "Lords and Ladies, I have a surprise!
} A veritable wonderment! A feast for the eyes!
} Text will be perfect in Bimingham-Bean,
} Thanks to the Paragraph-Burbling Machine!"
} The man flipped a switch, and there on the screen,
} Was the craziest thing that they ever had seen!
} The thing at it's smallest was big as a horse!
} And looked twisted and turned by invisible force!
} He said "it looks odd, but it's no piece of junk!"
} It's the power of 6000 Micronized Monks!
} Input's the end that looks like a candle.
} You enter the text, then you pull this small handle.
} You push the red button, then turn the green dial.
} Then you twiddle your thumbs and you wait for a while.
} The Monks write the output in one of three styles :
} Courier, Helvetica, or output-to-file!"
} The machine was impressive, it had lights, it went beep.
} However, the king was decidedly cheap.
} When told of the price, he became quite distressed,
} And said, "how 'bout something a little bit less?"
} The Scientist said, "How's this for an offer?
} The X107 Grigzapper Runoff-er!
} Although all the text must be entered by hand,
} The output is perfect, it's really quite grand!
} Unformatted text is stuck in this slot,
} You crank on this crank, and what have you got?
} Why, formatted text! Just make sure that you
} Don't get stuck in the slot, or it'll format you, too."
} The king was impressed, was excited indeed,
} But still too expensive for his miserly needs.
} So the Scientist showed him the C107
} Which predicted the text using insight from Heaven,
} Then showed him the Zigula Sentence Compressor,
} The Infinitivator, the New-Line Redressor,
} The Predicate Haggler, the String Farbulator,
} The Vrabiton-Skiddley White Space Demonstrator.
} The models rolled on, getting deeper and deeper,
} And still the king said "Is there anything cheaper?"
} The Scientist paled, and said with a cough,
} "Well, Royal Highness, we've always got troff."
} "Troff? What is that? Does it work? Is it cheap?"
} "That's putting it mildly," and he started to weep,
} "Your Highness, troff-language is really quite bad!
} If you force us to use it, we'll surely go mad!"
} "Piffle!" said Horowitz, "Start right away!
} Teach it to everyone, starting today!"
} And so it was done. The public, confused,
} Was told that troff was all they could use.
} The Scientist was right, they'd all be insane,
} Had not someone noticed the events in Romania.
} The palace was stormed, the king he was shot.
} And soon after that troff was simply forgot.
} The new King, O'Malley, of Sadicum-Smecks,
} Hired the Scientist, who invented LaTeX.
} Thus came troff to the end of its time.
} And thus comes the Oracle to the end of the rhyme.
}
} You owe the Oracle a rhyme for Ceaucescu.
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smd (Sean M Dougherty):
How to get in touch with me:
If you can't reach me at the Tech or at 262-3192,
try 262-1203 or 267-9769 (let them ring...the phone will be answered
eventually) or try me at the CRL (in DUSP) at 253-2056.
my school address is: (Sigma Chi)
532 Beacon St.
Boston, MA 02215
my home address is: hm: (713) 864-9649
321 W. Cowan
Houston, TX 77007
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starflt (Derrick Kong):
BUT THEY MAKE A KEEN SOUND
In Star Trek: The Role-Playing Game (FASA), phaser rifles can't fire
as far as a bow and arrow.
from Murphy's Rules
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therese (Therese):
A waking world of innocence
So grave those first born cries
When life beings with needles and pins
It ends with swords and knives
... God save those born to die
-- Tears for Fears
The Seeds of Love
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vives (Guillaume-Yv Vives):
{From system: This user's .plan file is not world readable}
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wchsieh (Wilson C Hsieh):
Home: Work:
20 Hubbard Avenue, #9 545 Technology Square, Room 521A
Cambridge, MA 02140 Cambridge, MA 02139
(617) 864-9319 (617) 253-5261
E-mail:
wchsieh@lcs.mit.edu
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wslee (Whay Sing Lee):
Move on, move on, never look back. That is the way of life.
~~~~~~~~~~
Address: Box 52, 3 Ames Street, Cambridge, MA 02139.
Tel: (617)225-6211 (H) (617)253-6048 (W)
Alternate e-mail address : wslee@ai.mit.edu
~~~~~~~~~~
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-->> Fri Sep 27 17:08:05 EDT 1991
-->> I logged OUT from wslee@e40-008-5.mit.edu
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--- End of Central America ---
