[5448] in Central_America
New quotes for Sat May 14
daemon@ATHENA.MIT.EDU (Central America)
Sat May 14 03:12:35 1994
Date: Sat, 14 May 1994 03:12:05 -0400
From: Central America <root@charon.MIT.EDU>
To: ca-mtg@charon.MIT.EDU
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dryfoo (Gary L. Dryfoos):
} [5447] wesommer@ATHENA.MIT.EDU Central_America 05/13/94 15:06 (7 lines)
} Subject: Re: New quotes for Thu May 12
}
} But Gary, what about the Boy Scouts and State Troopers he kills for their
} hats?
A base canard, grasshopper.
All Boy Scouts
know that Smokey is their patron deity,
and model their hats after His.
His own hat is Eternal.
Besides,
each year, at every Boy Scout camp around the country,
in late June and early September (the beginning and end of camp season),
an altar to Smokey is set up on the farthest edge of the camp
complete with bowls of honey, berries, nuts,
balogna sandwiches on whitebread
and a newly-carved wooden Smokey figurine
wearing a beautiful new felt smokey hat (in his own holy size 9 3/8).
So that if he needed a new hat, he could just take that one.
At Ken-Ettawa-Pec, we members of the Order of the Arrow were responsible
for this holy obligation,
and we fulfilled it with pride.
Of course, what He does with State Troopers is his business.
Drown their butts!
Crush their butts!
Drown their butts!
Crush their butts!
[I am now also "http://www.mit.edu:8001/people/dryfoo/home.html"]
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kdmiller (Kenneth D Miller):
void main(){char b[17];int a=0,c=0,d; /* / for a good time, email: \ */
while(c!=-1){printf("%07x0:",a++);for /* ( kdmiller@athena.mit.edu ) */
(d=0;d<16;d++){c=getchar();b[d]=(c<' ' /* \ (Kenneth D. Miller III) / */
||c>'~')?'.':c;printf( "%s%02x",d&3?"":" ",c&255);}printf(" | %s\n",b);}}
Yes!! I'm online! Just use 'kdmiller@m4-167-5.mit.edu'...
I've been on since Sat May 14 00:54:01 EDT 1994
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mcmorgan (Michael C Morgan):
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rajchak (Rajat Chakraborty):
{from system: This user's .plan file is not world-readable}
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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...
--- End of Central America ---
