[86513] in Discussion of MIT-community interests
There is one HUGE problem that comes with hitting on
daemon@ATHENA.MIT.EDU (Vin Dicarlo)
Wed Aug 10 13:20:47 2016
Date: Wed, 10 Aug 2016 12:51:14 -0400
From: "Vin Dicarlo" <vin_dicarlo@www3.hkewn.com>
To: <mit-talk-mtg@charon.mit.edu>
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etica, Arial, sans-serif, 'Open Sans'; font-size: 22px; color: #ff0=
000; line-height: 32px; vertical-align: middle; text-transform:=
uppercase; font-weight: bold; ">This Mindreading Loophole Has Been<=
br /> Scientifically Tested On 1,026 Females</td>=20
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-align: left; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif, 'Open Sans'; =
line-height: 24px; vertical-align: top; font-weight: 400; " w=
idth=3D"100%"> <p>There are plenty of pickup and seduction programs that pr=
omise to give you the ability to attract women. But how many of them =
are backed by SCIENCE?</p> <p>Sure, their cute little pickup lines and over=
used techniques may work on paid models. But nothing beats this looph=
ole that was discovered by the extensive research of 3 scientists. Wh=
at' s it allow you to do?</p> <p><strong>READ WOMEN' S MINDS</strong></p> <=
p>As you can expect, these 3 ? naughty? scientists used this power to their=
advantage. And it was successfully tested on 1,026 women in the fiel=
d. In other words, you can use it with ZERO trial and error involved.=
</p> <p>Here are just a few things the mindreading loophole can do:</p>=20
<ul>=20
<li>Get her phone number</li>=20
<li>Get a date</li>=20
<li>Get a first kiss</li>=20
<li>Get you LAID</li>=20
</ul> <p>All of that and much more is possible in 5 MINUT=
ES or less. As for training, you can hit the streets and start target=
ing your ? prey? in less than an HOUR.</p> <p>That' s right. You can =
get out there TONIGHT and start making those panties drop. And since =
the day isn' t getting any younger, I' ll let you get right to it? ? ? ? </=
p> <p><a href=3D"http://www.hkewn.com/5ed-86Jx340C7bEhvVdVKyxdhVtFMuKmji0hvV0ONW2d2/omnipotent-Zanzibar"><font color=3D"#0000c0"><strong><u>GET THE PRO=
VEN SCIENTIFIC LOOPHOLE TO READ WOMEN' S MINDS</u></strong></font></a></p> =
<p>This is a total game-changer. And even if you don' t trust the har=
d work of these 3 scientists, you have NOTHING to lose. Why? Because =
your satisfaction is ensured for 14 days. </p> <p>So if you' re not =
getting those numbers (you will). Or if you' re not getting those dat=
es (you will). Or if you' re not getting in between their legs (you w=
ill). You won' t lose a DIME.</p> <p>Sound good? Awesome. =
Now get to work before the night is done!</p> <p><a href=3D"http://www.hkewn.com/5ed-86Jx340C7bEhvVdVKyxdhVtFMuKmji0hvV0ONW2d2/omnipotent-Zanzibar"><f=
ont color=3D"#0000c0"><strong><u>GET THE PROVEN SCIENTIFIC LOOPHOLE TO READ=
WOMEN' S MINDS</u></strong></font></a></p> <p> </p> <p> </p>=
=20
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<td style=3D"padding: 14px 18px 14px 18px; font-f=
amily: Arial, sans-serif; color: #ffffff; font-size:18px ; text=
-align: center; "><a href=3D"http://www.hkewn.com/5ed-86Jx340C7bEhvVdVKyxdhVtFMuKmji0hvV0ONW2d2/omnipotent-Zanzibar" style=3D"text-decoration: none;=
color: #ffffff; "><strong>READ HER MIND</strong></a></td>=20
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or: #cccc00; text-align: center; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, san=
s-serif, 'Open Sans'; line-height: 24px; vertical-align: top; f=
ont-weight: 400; " width=3D"100%"> <br /> 1461 San Mateo Ave. Suit=
e 4 #17072<br /> South San Francisco, CA 94080<br /> <br /> <br /> <=
a href=3D"http://www.hkewn.com/expeditions-despair/1b6Q8w6Tt341K7b*hvVdVKyxdhVtFMuKmji0hvV0ONW99f" style=3D"text-decoration: underline; ">CLICK HERE<=
/a> to stop future messages</td>=20
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<p>There is one HUGE problem that comes with hitting on women<br /> This=
is the end, for the moment, of all my thinking, this is my unfinal conclus=
ion. There is no reason in tangible things, and no system in the ordinary w=
ays of the world. Hands were made to grope, and feet to stumble, and the on=
ly things you may count on are the unaccountable things. System is a fairy =
and a dream, you never find system where or when you expect it. There are n=
o reasons except reasons you and I don't know. I should not be really surpr=
ised if the policeman across the way grew wings, or if the deep sea rose an=
d washed out the chaos of the land. I should not raise my eyebrows if the d=
aily press became the Little Sunbeam of the Home, or if Cabinet Ministers s=
truck for a decrease of wages. I feel no security in facts, precedent seems=
no protection to me. The wisdom you can find in an Encyclopedia, or in Sel=
fridge's Information Bureau, seems to me just a transitory adaptation to qu=
icksand circumstances. But if the things which I know in spite of my educat=
ion were false, if the eyes of the sea forgot their secret, or if the accen=
t of the steep woods became vulgar, if the fairy adventures that happen in =
my heart fell flat, if the good friends my eyes have never seen failed me,-=
-then indeed should I know emptiness, and an astonishment that would kill. =
I want to introduce you to Jay, a 'bus-conductor and an idealist. She is no=
t the heroine, but the most constantly apparent woman in this book. I canno=
t introduce you to a heroine because I have never met one. She was a person=
who took nothing in the world for granted, but as she had only a slight co=
nnection with the world, that is not saying very much. Her answer to everyt=
hing was "Why?" The fundamental facts that you and I accept from =
our youth upwards, like Be Good and You Will Be Happy, or Change Your Boots=
When You Come In Out Of The Wet, or Respect Your Elders, or Love Your Neig=
hbour, or Never Cross Your Legs Above The Knee, did not impress Jay. I neve=
r knew her as a baby, but I am sure she must have been born a propounder of=
questions, and a smiler at the answers she received. I daresay she used to=
ask questions--without result--long before she could talk, but I am quite =
sure she was not embittered by the lack of result. Nothing ever embittered =
Jay, not even her own pessimism. There is a finality about bitterness, and =
Jay was never final. Her last word was always on a questioning note. Her mi=
nd was always open, waiting for more. "Oh no," she would tell her=
pillow at night, "there must be a better answer than that ..." P=
erhaps it is hardly necessary to add that she had quarrelled with her Famil=
y, and run away from home. Her Family knew neither what she was doing nor w=
here she was doing it. Families are incurably conceited, and this one suppo=
sed that, having broken away from it, Jay was going to the bad. On the cont=
rary, she was a 'bus-conductor, but I only tell you this in confidence. I r=
epeat the Family did not know it, and does not know it yet. The Family some=
times said that Jay was an idealist, but it did not really think so. The Fa=
mily sometimes said that she was rather mad, but it did not know how mad sh=
e was, or it would have sent her away to live in a doctor's establishment a=
t Margate. It never realised that it had only come in contact with about on=
e-fifth of its young relation, and that the other four-fifths were shut awa=
y from it. Shut away in a shining bubble world with only room in it for one=
--for One, and a shining bubble Story. I do not know how universal an exper=
ience a Secret Story and a Secret Friend may be. Perhaps this wonder is a c=
ommonplace to you, only you are more reticent about it than Jay or I. But t=
o me, even after twenty years' intimacy with what I can only describe as a =
supplementary life that I cannot describe, it still seems so very wonderful=
that I cannot believe I share it with every man and woman in the street. T=
he great advantage of a Secret Story over other stories is that you cannot =
put it into print. So I can only show you the initial letter, and you may i=
f you choose look upon it as an imaginary hieroglyphic. Or you may not. Jus=
t this, that a bubble world can contain a round and russet horizon of high =
woods which you can attain, and from the horizon a long view of an unending=
sea. You can run down across the dappled fields, you can run down into the=
cove and stroke the sea and hear the intimate minor singing of it. And whe=
n you feel as strong as the morning, you can shout and run against the wind=
, against the flying sand that never blows above your knees. And when you f=
eel as tired as the night, you can climb slowly up the cliff path and go in=
to the House, the House you know much better than any house your ordinary e=
yes have seen, and there you will find your Secret Friends. The best part a=
bout Secret Friends is that they will never weary you by knowing you. You s=
hare their House, your passing hand helps to polish the base of that wooden=
figure that ends the banisters, you know the childish delight of that wide=
short chimney in the big turret room, a chimney so wide and so short that =
you can stand inside the great crooked fireplace and whisper to the birds t=
hat look down from the edge of the chimney only a yard or two above you. Yo=
u know how comfy those big beds are, you sit at the long clothless table in=
the brown dining-room. With all these things you are intimate, and yet you=
pass through the place as a ghost, your bubble enchantment encloses you, y=
our Secret Friends have no knowledge of you, their story runs without you. =
Your unnecessary identity is tactfully ignored, and you know the heaven of =
being dispassionate and detached among things you love. All these things ca=
n a bubble world contain. You have to get inside things to find out how lim=
itless they are. And I think if you don't believe it all, it is none the le=
ss true for that, because in that case you are the sort of person who belie=
ves a thing less the truer it is. If Jay's Family did not know she was a 'b=
us-conductor, and did not know she was a story-possessor, what did it know =
about her? It knew she disliked the smell of bananas, and that she had not =
taken advantage of an expensive education, and that she was Stock Size (Sma=
ll Ladies'), and that she was christened Jane Elizabeth, and that she took =
after her father to an excessive extent, and that she was rather too apt to=
swallow this Socialist nonsense. As Families go, it was fairly well inform=
ed about her. The Family was a rather promiscuous one. It had more tortuous=
relationships than most families have, although there were only four in it=
, not counting Mr. Russell. I might as well introduce you to the Family bef=
ore I settle down to the story. From careful study of the press reviews I g=
ather that a story is considered a necessary thing in a novel, so this time=
I am going to try and include one. You may, if you please, meet the Family=
after breakfast at Mr. Russell's house in Kensington, about three months a=
fter Jay had run away. There were four people in the room. They were Cousin=
Gustus, Mrs. Gustus, Kew, and Mr. Russell. It behoves me to try and tell y=
ou very simply about Mrs. Gustus, because she prided herself on simplicity.=
Spelt with a capital S, it constituted her Deity; her heaven was a severe =
and shadowless eternity, and plain words were the flowers that grew in her =
Elysian fields. She had simplified her life and her looks. Even her smile w=
as shorn of all accessories like dimples or twinkles. Her hair, which was n=
ot abundant, was the colour of corn, straight and shining. Her eyes were a =
cold dark grey. Now to be simple is all very well, but turn it into an acti=
ve verb and you spoil the whole idea. To simplify seems forced, and I think=
Mrs. Gustus struck harder on the note of simplification than that of simpl=
icity. I should not dare to criticise her, however, and Cousin Gustus was s=
atisfied, so criticism in any case would be intrusive. It is just possible =
that he occasionally wished that she would dress herself in a more human wa=
y--patronise in winter the humble Viyella stripe, for instance, or in summe=
r the flippant sprig. But a large proportion of Mrs. Gustus's faith was fou=
nded on simple strong colours in wide expanses, introduced, as it were, one=
to another by judicious black. Anybody but Mrs. Gustus would have been dro=
wned in her clothes. But she was conceived on a generous scale, she was alm=
ost gorgeous, she barely missed exaggeration. In her manner I think she did=
not miss it. She had therefore the gift of coping with colour. It remains =
for me to add that her age was five-and-forty, and that she was a novelist.=
The recording angel had probably noted the fact of her novelism among her =
virtues, but she had an imperceptible earthly public. She wrote laborious b=
ooks, full of short peevish sentences, of such very pure construction that =
they were extremely difficult to understand. She wore spectacles with aggre=
ssive tortoise-shell rims. She said, "I am short-sighted. I am obliged=
to wear spectacles. Why should I try to conceal the fact? I will not have =
a pair of rimless ghosts haunting my face. I will wear spectacles without s=
hame." But the real truth was that the tortoise-shell rims were more b=
ecoming to her. Mrs. Gustus was known to her husband's family as Anonyma. T=
he origin of this habit was an old joke, and I have forgotten the point of =
it. Cousin Gustus was second cousin once removed to Kew and Kew's sister Ja=
y, and had kindly brought them up from childhood. He was now at the further=
end of the sixties, and embittered by many things: an unsuitable marriage,=
the approach of the psalmist's age-limit, incurably modern surroundings, a=
n internal complaint, and a haunting wish to relieve the Government of the =
management of the War. These drawbacks were to a certain extent linked, the=
y accounted for each other. The complaint hindered him from offering his se=
rvices as Secretary of State; it made of him a slave, so he could not prete=
nd to be a master. He cherished his slavery, for it happened to be painless=
, and supplied him with a certain dignity which would otherwise have been d=
ifficult to secure. During the summer the complaint hibernated, and ceased =
to interest either doctors or relations, which was naturally hard to bear. =
To these trials you may add the disgraceful behaviour of his young cousin J=
ay, and admit that Cousin Gustus had every excuse for encouraging pessimism=
of the most pronounced type. Jay's brother Kew was twenty-five, and from t=
his it follows that he had already drunk the surprising beverage of War. Hi=
s military history included a little splinter of hate in the left shoulder,=
followed by a depressing period almost entirely spent in the society of me=
dical boards, three months of light duty consisting of weary instruction of=
fools in an East coast town, and now an interval of leave at the end of wh=
ich the battalion to which he had lately been attached hoped to go to Franc=
e. In one way it was a pity he ever joined the Army, for khaki clashed badl=
y with most of Mrs. Gustus's colour theories. But he had never noticed that=
: his eye and his ear and his mind were all equally slow to appreciate clas=
hings of any kind. He was rather aloof from comparison and criticism, but n=
ot on principle. He had no principles--at least no original ones, just the =
ordinary stuffy old principles of decency and all that. He never turned his=
eyes inward, as far as the passer-by could see; he lived a breezy life out=
side himself. He never tried to make a fine Kew of himself; he never propou=
nded riddles to his Creator, which is the way most of us make our reputatio=
ns. Mr. Russell, the host and adopted member of the Family, was fifty-two. =
He did not know Jay, having only lately been culled by Mrs. Gustus--that as=
siduous collector--and placed in the bosom of the Family. She had found him=
blossoming unloved in the wilderness of a War Work Committee. He was well =
informed, yet a good listener; perhaps he possessed both these virtues to e=
xcess. At any rate Mrs. Gustus had decided that he was worthy of Family fri=
endship, and, being naturally extravagant, she conferred it upon him with b=
oth hands. Mr. Russell was married to a woman who had not properly realised=
the fact that she was Mrs. Russell. She spent her life in distant lands, h=
elping the world to become better. At present she was understood to be prop=
agating peace in the United States, and was never mentioned by or to her hu=
sband. My first impression of Mr. Russell was that he was rather fat, but I=
never could trace this impression to its origin. He had not exactly a doub=
le chin, but rather a chin and a half, and the rest of him followed this mo=
derate example. His grey hair retired in a pronounced estuary over each tem=
ple, leaving a beautifully brushed peninsula between. He had no sense of hu=
mour, but hid this deformity skillfully. Hardly anybody knew that he was a =
poet, except presumably his dog. He often talked to his dog; he told it eve=
ry speakable thought that he had. This was his only bad habit. Occasionally=
his dog was heard to reply in a small curious voice proceeding also from M=
r. Russell. These four people looked out at Kensington Gardens, which were =
rejoicing in the very babyhood of the year. The naked trees were like pilla=
rs in the mist, the grass was grey and whitened to the distance, the world =
had mislaid its horizon, and one's eye slid up without check between the tr=
ees to where the last word of a daylight moon whispered in the sky. "I=
glory in a view that dispenses with colour," said Mrs. Gustus severel=
y. She always spoke as though she were sure of the whole of what she intend=
ed to say. When she did hesitate, it only meant that she was seeking for th=
e simplest word, and she would cap her pause with a monosyllable as curt as=
an explosion. But glory is the right word, I think, for London in some moo=
ds. Do you know the feeling of a heart beating too high, when you see the g=
reat cliffs of London under rain or vague sunshine, or rising out of yellow=
air? Do you ever want, as I do, to stand with arms out against the London =
wind, and shout your own unmade poetry on the top of a 'bus? With this sort=
of grotesque glorying does London inspire me, so that I spend whole days t=
ogether feeling that the essential _I_ is too big for what encloses it.</p>=
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