[4752] in Central_America
New quotes for Thu Jan 21
daemon@ATHENA.MIT.EDU (Initializer.SysDaemon)
Thu Jan 21 16:13:13 1993
Date: Thu, 21 Jan 93 16:12:57 -0500
From: root@charon.MIT.EDU (Initializer.SysDaemon)
To: ca-mtg@bloom-beacon.mit.edu
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
jefft (Jeff Tang):
Yeah, yeah, sure--don't you have to go make some Elfin cookies?
--- Crow
She looks like an Oompa-Loompa!
--- Tom, "Moon Zero Two"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
nosaj (Jason M Sachs):
Once upon a time, there were seven dwarves wearing pentagrams. They
were walking home from the pickle factory where they worked, when
suddenly a voluptuous red letter F began to follow them. The seven
dwarves didn't notice (except for maybe the one in back, but he didn't
say anything because of what the voluptuous red letter F was doing to
him at the time) since the voluptuous red letter F was being very
quiet; letter F's tend not to say very nice things in general, so they
have learned to keep their mouths shut at appropriate times.
Anyway, one does not often see a voluptuous red letter F following
seven dwarves in a single file line wearing pentagrams, let alone
seven dwarves by themselves, so naturally the scene attracted the
attention of bystanders on the long route from the pickle factory to
the seven dwarves' home. The general consensus seemed to be that they
were travelers going on some kind of pilgrimage, and of course, if you
have a pilgrimage, everybody who's anybody wants to join it,
especially if they don't know what the pilgrimage is about.
Soon the seven dwarves and the letter F were joined by a long line of
followers, among them a blueberry Pop-Tart, thirteen CIA agents, four
unused telephone numbers, thirty-seven rabbits, forty-seven rabbis, a
Health Maintenance Organization, and an obscenely cute squirrel.
The seven dwarves made their way home as usual, walking along the
narrow trail through the National Telephone Booth Forest, through a
bypass hole in the foundation of Magritte's House of Plastic Surgery,
Cigars, and Flaming Tubas, along a gap in a garbage dump for surplus
function keys, over a section of the New Jersey Turnpike, around a
battery acid storage lake, and halfway through a rear-view mirror farm
before one of the dwarves noticed all the people following him.
This dwarf immediately pointed out to his comrades that they were
being followed, and proceeded to take out a white AK-47 assault rifle
and fire it into the air, for crowd control is one of the AK-47's
strengths. This scared off nearly all of the putative pilgrims, among
them some of the dwarves themselves (including the one who had fired
the AK-47; perhaps he had bullet angst), leaving behind a total of
seven: three of the dwarves with pentagrams---one named Moe, one named
Droopy, and one named Plutonium---, a voluptuous red letter F
(possibly different from the one in the beginning of the story; who
can tell?), a black hole, an evil spirit that was being possessed by a
refrigerator, and the obscenely cute squirrel mentioned earlier.
The seven travelers were in a bit of a quandary at this point: the
letter F, the black hole, and the evil spirit suddenly realized that
the dwarves they were following may not have known where they were
going (which was the usual way the dwarves got home, though normally
by now they would have been found by some sexy girl in a Ferrari who
was most likely running away from one of the many evil queens in the
area, and who would offer to drive them home if only she could spend a
night in their protection---there are other details, but we'll leave
them up to the reader's imagination); Moe, Droopy, and Plutonium
suddenly realized they were lost and without an AK-47 to wreak havoc
with; and the obscenely cute squirrel was having his own problems from
staring at the sun's reflections in the rear-view mirrors for too
long.
Fortunately, the gods were kind to them; a souped-up Atari VCS
suddenly materialized out of nowhere and fell to the ground below,
landing on top of the squirrel (don't worry---although it wasn't
killed, it did go through a lot of pain). This by itself would not have
saved them, but the gods were also kind enough to send a single cymbal
crashing down upon the squirrel as well. The six of them (again, the
squirrel was having his own problems) looked at the cymbal, but none
of them knew what it was. The voluptuous red letter F had an idea,
though, and after dragging the black hole away from what looked to be
a good game of Space Invaders, it plugged in the Atari Dictionary
cartridge, typed in "cymbal" on the Atari's nonexistent keyboard, and
identified the cymbal as a cymbal.
When the seven travelers realized that somewhere there was a matching
cymbal, they swore they would not rest until they found it. This led
to a series of severe misadventures that probably shouldn't be told at
all.... (to be continued)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
starflt (Derrick Kong):
Economy in Government
Every employee whose last name consists of three or fewer letters was
dropped from the Department of Agriculture telephone directory.
from No Comment
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
therese (Therese):
When I was a girl, I had a favourite story
Of the meadowlark who lived where the rivers wind.
Her voice could match the angels' in it's glory.
But she was blind. The lark was blind.
The king of the rivers took her to his palace
Where the walls were burnished bronze and golden braid
And he fed her fruit and nuts from an ivory chalice
And he prayed...
Sing for me, my meadowlark
Sing for me of the silver morning
Set me free, my meadowlark
And I'll buy you a priceless jewel
And cloth of brocade and crewel
And I'll love you for life, if you will
Sing for me...
Then one day, as the lark sang by the water
The god of the sun heard her in his flight
And her singing moved him so, he came and brought her
The gift of sight. He gave her sight.
And she opened her eyes to the shimmer and the splendour
Of this beautiful young god, so proud and strong
And he called to the lark in a voice both rough and tender
Come along...
Fly with me, my meadowlark
Fly with me on the silver morning
Past the sea where the dolphins bark
We will dance on the coral beaches
Make a feast of the plums and peaches
Just as far as your vision reaches,
Fly with me...
But the meadowlark said no
For the old king loved her so
She couldn't bear to wound his pride
So the sungod flew away
And when the king came down that day
He found his meadowlark had died...
Every time I heard that part, I cried...
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
wamprat (Irwin Lee):
Last logged in on w20-575-50
at Thu Jan 21 06:14:48 EST 1993
--- End of Central America ---
