[5718] in Central_America
New quotes for Fri Dec 30
daemon@ATHENA.MIT.EDU (Central America)
Fri Dec 30 03:53:43 1994
Date: Fri, 30 Dec 1994 03:53:11 -0500
From: Central America <root@charon.MIT.EDU>
To: ca-mtg@charon.MIT.EDU
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aramchek (Lawrence W Chang):
{from system: This user's .plan file is not world-readable}
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eichin (Mark W. Eichin):
{from system: This user's .plan file is a symlink!}
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ghudson (Greg Hudson):
Understand current gathering iteration algorithm in Hanrahan code (done)
Write thesis proposal (done)
Reorganize top-level code to do batch calculation (done)
Parallelize gathering on single processor (debugging)
Implement multi-processor shared memory primitives
Analyze performance of gathering versus serial algorithm
Understand current refinement algorithm (done)
Parallelize refinement using single processor synchronization
Implement multi-processor synchronization primitives
Analyze performance versus serial algorithm
Write thesis
Grow old
Die
---
Well I'm not dumb but I can't understand
How he can lift me in the air just by raising his hand
-- Weird Al Yankovich, "Yoda"
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rsompall (Ravi Sompalli):
{from system: This user's .plan file is not world-readable}
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sgw (stephen g. wadlow):
Well I tried to make it Sunday
but I got so damned depressed
That I set my sights on Monday
and I got myself undressed
I ain't ready for the altar
but I do agree there's times
when a woman sure can be a friend of mine
Well I keep on thinkin' 'bout you
Sister golden hair surprise
And I just can't live without you
Can't you see it in my eyes?
I've been one poor correspondent
I've been too too hard to find
but it doesn't mean
you ain't been on my mind
Will you meet me in the middle
Will you meet me in the air
will you love me just a little
just enough to show you care
Well I tried to fake it
I don't mind sayin'
I just can't make it
"Sister Goldenhair"
by America
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sipb7 (Rhonda Peck):
Rhonda Peck
54 Massachusetts Ave
Arlington, MA 02174
H: 617-646-0906
W: 617-563-4414
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sorokin (Jessie Stickgold-Sarah):
Instructions to the Double
Tess Gallagher
So now it's your turn,
little mother of silences, little
father of half-belief. Take up
this face, these daily rounds
with a cabbage under each arm
convincing the multitudes
that a well-made-anything
could save them. Take up,
most of all, these hands
trained to an ornate piano
in a house on the other side
of the country.
I'm staying here
without music, without
applause. I'm not going
to wait up for you. Take
your time. Take mine
too. Get into some trouble
I'll have to account for. Walk
into some bars along
with a slit up your skirt. Let
the men follow you on the street
with their clumsy propositions, their
loud hatreds of this and that. Keep
walking. Keep your head
up. They are calling to you -- slut, mother,
virgin, whore, daughter, adultress, lover,
mistress, bitch, wife, cunt, harlot,
betrothed, Jezebel, Messalina, Diana,
Bathsheba, Rebecca, Lucretia, Mary,
Magdalena, Ruth, you -- Niobe,
woman of the tombs.
Don't stop for anything, not
a caress or a promise. Go
to the temple of the poets, not
the one like a run-down country club,
but the one on fire with so much it wants
to be done with. Say all the last words
and the first: hello, goodbye, yes,
I, no, please, always, never.
If anyone from the country clu
asks you if you write poems, say
your name is Lizzie Borden.
Show him your axe, the one
they gave you with a silver
blade, your name engraved there
like a whisper of their own.
If anyone calls you a witch,
burn for him; if anyone calls you
less or more than you are
let him burn for you.
It's a dangerous mission. You
could die out there. You
could live forever.
--- End of Central America ---
