[3751] in Central_America
New quotes for Sun Nov 3
daemon@ATHENA.MIT.EDU (Initializer.SysDaemon)
Sun Nov 3 01:35:47 1991
Date: Sun, 3 Nov 91 01:35:03 EST
From: root@charon.MIT.EDU (Initializer.SysDaemon)
To: ca-mtg@bloom-beacon.mit.edu
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amgreene (Andrew Marc Greene):
The best laid plans...
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dom (Dominic J Sartorio):
{From system: This user's .plan file is not world readable}
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heff (Heather Anne Kinner):
...of mice and men...
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jinx (Guillermo J Rozas):
I hardly ever use this account.
Do "finger -l jinx@zurich.ai.mit.edu" for more up to date information.
Written on Sat Nov 2 07:00:02 EST 1991
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sao (Andy Oakland):
From THE PC MANIFESTO by Saul Jerushalmy & Rens Zbignigwiuw X:
Q: WHAT IS P.C.?
PC stands for Politically Correct. We of the Politically Correct
philosophy believe in increasing a tolerance for a DIVERSITY of cultures,
race, gender, ideology and alternate lifestyles. Politically Correctness
is the only social and morally acceptable outlook. Anyone who disagrees
with this philosophy is bigoted, biased, sexist, and/or closed-minded.
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sethg (Seth A. Gordon):
Date: Tue, 29 Oct 91 15:38:00 EST
From: Jim Paradis <paradis@sousa.enet.dec.com>
Subject: Re: More on Keyboards
To: elbows@mc.lcs.mit.edu
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> So, now that everyone has commented on the best of all possible keyboards,
> I'm now going to whine about my temporary developement machine. It has a
> specially modifide keyboard, used to keep out the grime of its worksite
> (trains.) It has a black latex/rubber shell glued over the top of the
> keyboard. It's like typing through chewing gum.
Oh, but don't you know? It's a keyboard condom! They were originally
developed for debugger keypads so that the operators could engage in
safe hex. Now that computer viruses are even more widespread, operators
can't be too careful, so they wrap the whole keyboard.
Add smileys to taste 8-)
--
Jim Paradis (paradis@tallis.enet.dec.com)
"Fahrvergnuegen!" "Gesundheit!"
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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):
One day in a nuclear age
they may understand our rage
They build machines that they can't control
And bury the waste in a great big hole
Power was to become cheap and clean
Grimy faces were never seen
But deadly for twelve thousand years is
carbon fourteen
We work the black seam together
- Sting
Dream of the Blue Turtles
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wchuang (Mithrandir):
...and so the world changes... sometimes torn out from under our
feet, sometimes subtly like the slow change in one summer day to
another on its course to fall, but it changes nonetheless and it
takes us with it.
I regret many things, and I love many things, but a certain one
of each conflict in my heart -- I *must* resolve this before I
am torn apart by the anger and love that storms through my soul
like the fire of a volcano and the ice of some high mountain.
So be it.
*********
Another day, another week, another month.
I stroll lazily, immersed in thought; then a happy couple will
pass by, and again realizing what loss and loneliness are, my
steps quicken, as if this compensates for that missing from within
me.
A chill winter wind knifes through sweater and overcoat, biting my
ears and cheeks and nose. I remember the way yours once glowed.
Mine are only cold now, my feet soaked as I slog through sodden
heaps of leaves, and myself only barely perked up by the pungent
smoke of burning wood from some warm cozy fireplace.
At one time there was a flame in our hearts; strong, vital, impetuous,
a wild thing born of you and I. Not a spark, not a small fire, but
one that raged untamed... like our love.
Where am I now? I wish I knew... perhaps wandering the memory of
a warm night one summer, walking along the river, seeing the shine
of lights off of the water and the brightness in your eyes; a soft
touch, stray hair falling across your face, a kiss, desperate, deep,
searching... sometimes I find myself wondering how to return. And
then, at other times I am empty; I walk into the wind, its cold
brushes by me and blasts through where my heart should be.
A single leaf, patched of autumn reds and yellows, lazily flutters
down.
There are different sparks now, dancing about you; but they are
nothing in comparison. You made your choice. You are taking a
path that leads away... and so I must make mine.
On a bleak winter day, I step on a fallen leaf and walk on...
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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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-->> Sun Nov 3 00:44:25 EST 1991
-->> I logged OUT from wslee@e40-008-5.mit.edu
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--- End of Central America ---
