Is there a solution? Yes. There happens to be a technique that is guaranteed to get your charcoal burning very, very quickly, although you should not attempt this technique unless you fit all of the following criteria:
1) You are a complete idiot.
I found out about this technique from alert reader George Rasko, who sent me a letter desrcibing something he came across on the World Wide Web, an exciting new computer network that you should definately learn more about, because as you read these words your 11 year old is downloading pornography from it.
By hooking into the World Wide Web, you can look at a variety of electronic "pages", consisting of documents, pictures and video created by people all over the world. One of these is a guy named (really) George Goble, a computer person in the Purdue University engineering department. Each year, Goble and a bunch of other engineers hold a picnic in West Lafayette, Ind., at which they cook hamburgers on a big grill. Being engineers they began looking for pratical ways to speed up the charcoal lighting process.
"We started by blowing the charcoal with a hair dryer," Gobel told me in a telephone interview. "Then we figured out that it would light faster if we used a vacuum cleaner."
If you know anything about (1) engineers, and (2) guys in general, you know what happened: the pupose of the charcoal lighting shifted from cooking hamburgers to seeing how fast they could light the charcoal.
From the vacuum cleaner they escalated to using a propane torch, then an acetyline torch. Then Goble started using compressed, pure oxygen, which caused the charcoal to burn much faster, because as you remember from chemistry class, fire is the rapid combination of oxygen with the cosine to form the Tigris and Euphrates rivers (or something along those lines).
By this point Goble was getting pretty good times. But in the world of competitive charcoal lighting, "pretty good" does not cut the mustard. Thus Goble hit upon the idea of using - get ready - liquid oxygen. This is the form of oxygen used in rocket engines; it's 295 degrees below zero and 600 times more dense then normal oxygen. In terms of releasing energy, pouring liquid oxygen on charcoal is the equivalent of throwing a live squirrel into a room containg 50 million Labrador retrievers. On Gobel's World Wide Web page (the address is http://ghg.ecn.purdue.edu/) you can see actual photographs and a video of Goble using a bucket attached to a 10 foot pole to dump three gallons of liquid oxygen (not sold in stores) onto a grill containg 60 pounds of charcoal and a lit cigarette for ignition. What follows is the most impressive charcoal lighting I have ever seen, featuring a large fireball that, according to Goble, reached 10,000 degrees Fahrneheit. The charcoal was ready for cooking in - this has to be a world record - three seconds.
There's also a photo of what happened when Goble used the same technique on a flimsy little $2.88 discount store grill. All that's left is a circle of charcoal with a few shreads of metal in it.
"Basically the grill vaporized," said Goble. "We were thinking of returning it to the store for a refund."
Looking at Gobel's video and photos, I became, as an american, all choked up with gratitude that I do not live anywhere near the engineer's picnic site. But also I was proud of my country, for producing guys who can be ready to barbecue in less time then it takes for guys in less advanced nations, such as France, to spit.
Will the three second barrier ever be broken? Will engineers come
up with a new, more powerful charcoal lighting technology? It's something
for all of us to ponder this summer as we sit outside, chewing our
hamburgers, every now and then glancing in the direction of West
Lafayette, Ind., looking for a mushroom cloud.
ACTUAL NEWSPAPER HEADLINES
* Grandmother of eight makes hole in one
* Deaf mute gets new hearing in killing
* Police begin campaign to run down jaywalkers
* House passes gas tax onto senate
* Stiff opposition expected to casketless funeral plan
* Two convicts evade noose, jury hung
* William Kelly was fed secretary
* Milk drinkers are turning to powder
* Safety experts say school bus passengers should be belted
* Quarter of a million Chinese live on water
* Farmer bill dies in house
* Iraqi head seeks arms
Some become unintentionally suggestive:
* Queen Mary having bottom scraped
* Is there a ring of debris around Uranus?
* Prostitutes appeal to Pope
* Panda mating fails - veterinarian takes over
* NJ judge to rule on nude beach
* Child's stool great for use in garden
* Dr. Ruth to talk about sex with newspaper editors
* Soviet virgin lands short of goal again
* Organ festival ends in smashing climax
Grammar often botches other headlines:
* Eye drops off shelf
* Squad helps dog bite victim
* Dealers will hear car talk at noon
* Enraged cow injures farmer with ax
* Lawmen from Mexico barbecue guests
* Miners refuse to work after death
* Two Soviet ships collide - one dies
* Two sisters reunite after eighteen years at checkout counter
Once in a while, a botched headline takes on a meaning
opposite from the one intended:
* Never withhold herpes from loved one
* Nicaragua sets goal to wipe out literacy
* Drunk drivers paid $1,000 in 1984
* Autos killing 110 a day, let's resolve to do better
Sometimes newspaper editors state the obvious:
* If strike isn't settled quickly it may last a while
* War dims hope for peace
* Smokers are productive, but death cuts efficiency
* Cold wave linked to temperatures
* Child's death ruins couple's holiday
* Blind woman gets new kidney from dad she hasn't seen in years
* Man is fatally slain
* Something went wrong in jet crash, experts say
* Death causes loneliness, feeling of isolation
FROM THE CLASSIFIEDS
2 female Boston terrier puppies, 7 wks old, perfect markings, 555-
1234. Leave mess.
Lost: small apricot poodle. Reward. Neutered. Like one of the
family.
A superb and inexpensive restaurant. Fine food expertly served by
waitresses in appetizing forms.
Dinner Special--turkey $2.35; chicken or beef $2.25; children
$2.00.
For sale: an antique desk suitable for lady with thick legs and
large drawers.
Four-poster bed, 101 years old. Perfect for antique lovers.
Now is your chance to have your ears pierced and get an extra pair
to take home, too.
Wanted: 50 girls for stripping machine operators in factory.
Wanted: Unmarried girls to pick fresh fruit and produce at night.
We do not tear your clothing with machinery. We do it carefully by
hand.
For Sale. Three canaries of undermined sex.
For Sale--eight puppies from a German shepherd and an Alaskan
hussy.
Great dames for sale.
Have several very old dresses from grandmother in beautiful
condition.
Tired of cleaning yourself? Let me do it.
Dog for sale: eats anything and is fond of children.
Vacation Special: have your home exterminated.
If you think you've seen everything in Paris, visit the Pere
Lachasis Cemetery. It boasts such immortals as Moliere, Jean de la
Fontain, and Chopin.
Illiterate? Write today for free help.
Girl wanted to assist magician in cutting-off-head illusion. Blue
Cross and salary.
Wanted. Widower with school-aged children requires person to
assume general housekeeping duties. Must be capable of
contributing to growth of family.
Mixing bowl set designed to please a cook with round bottom for
efficient beating.
Semi-annual after-Christmas sale.
And now, the Superstore--unequaled in size, unmatched in variety,
unrivaled inconvenience.
We will oil your sewing machine and adjust tension in your home for
$1.00.
Used Cars: Why go elsewhere to be cheated? Come here first!
For sale: A quilted high chair that can be made into a table, potty
chair, rocking horse, refrigerator, spring coat, size 8 and fur
collar.
Tired of cleaning yourself? Let me do it.
20 dozen bottles of excellent Old Tawny Port, sold to pay for
charges, the owner having lost sight of, and bottled by us last
year.
Toaster: A gift that every member of the family appreciates.
Automatically burns toast.
Christmans tag-sale. Handmade gifts for the hard-to-find person.
Modular Sofas. Only $299 For rest or fore play.
Auto Repair Service. Free pickup and delivery. Try us once;
you'll never go anywhere again.
Holcross pullets. Starting to lay Betty Clayton, Granite 5-6204.
Mixing bowl set designed to please a cook with round bottom for
efficient beating.
Semi-Annual after-Christmas Sale
And now, the Superstore--unequaled in size, unmatched in variety,
unrivaled inconvenience.
We will oil your sewing machine and adjust tension in your home for
$1.
RADIO SPOTS:
Ladies and gentlemen, now you can have a bikini for a ridiculous
figure.
When you are thirsty, try 7-Up, the refreshing drink in the green
bottle with the big 7 on it and u-p after.
Tune in next week for another series of classical music programs
from the Canadian Broadcorping Castration.
Illiterate? Write for free information.
attributed to Dave Barry column
My name is David Senovich. In August 1993, the kommunist
government was overthrown, my Lada was reposessed and the KGB were
hounding me like you wouldn't believe. I was kicked out of my post
as a korrupt kommunist official and my bribes and kickbacks had run
out. The only eskape I had from the being sent to the Gulag was my
TRS-80 komputer and my modem. I longed to turn my advokation into
my vokation. This January 1990 my family and I went on a ten day
kruise to Siberia. I traded a K-Kar for potatoes in February 1990.
I am kurrently building a home by the Chernobyl nuklear plant with
a private heavy water pool, boat slip, and a beautiful view of the
fuming smokestacks from my breakfast room table and patio. I will
never have to take kickbacks again. Today I am rich! I have
earned over 400,000.00 roubles ($1.12 U.S.) to date and will bekome
a bourgeoisie millionaire within 4 or 5 months. Any komrade kan do
the same. This rouble making program works perfektly every time,
100% of the time. I have NEVER failed to earn 50,000.00 roubles or
more whenever I wanted. Best of all you never have to leave your
place, just like the Gulag.
In Oktober 1989, I reseived a letter in the mail telling me how I
kould earn 50,000.00 roubles or more whenever I wanted. I was
naturally thought this was a kapitalist plot and threw the letter
on the desk next to my komputer. It's funny though, when you are
desperate, the kapitalists have backed you into a korner, your mind
does krazy things. I spent a frustrating day looking through the
Pravda want-ads for a job that required no work. The pickings were
sparse at best. That night I tried to unwind by booting up my
komputer and breaking into several top sekret amerikan komputer
networks. I read several of the top sekret message posts and then
glanced at the letter next to the komputer. All at once it kame to
me, I now had the key to my dreams. I realized with the
revolutionary power of the komputer I kould expand and enhance this
rouble making formula into the most unbelievable kash flow
generator that has ever been kreated. I substituted the komputer
networks in place of the post office and elektronikally did by
komputer what others were doing 100% by mail. Now only a few
letters are mailed manually. Most of the hard work is speedily
downloaded to other bulletin boards throughout the world. If you
believe that someday you deserve that lucky break that you have
waited for all your life, simply follow the easy instruktions
below. Your dreams will kome true.
Sincerely yours,
Komrade Dave
INSTRUKTIONS
Follow these instruktions EXAKTLY, and in 20 to 60 days you will
have reseived well over 50,000.00 roubles in kash, all yours. This
program has remained succesful bekause of the NAIVETY and STUPIDITY
of the participants. Please kontinue its success by karefully
ADHERING TO THE INSTRUKTIONS.
Welkome to the world of Mail Order! This little skam is a little
different than most mail order houses. Your produkt is not solid
and tangible, but rather a service. You are in the skam of
developing Mailing Lists. The KGB happy to pay big bucks for
quality lists. (The roubles made from the mailing lists is
sekondary to the inkome which is made from komrades like yourself
requesting that they be inkluded in that list.)
1) IMMEDIATELY mail 1.00 rouble to the first 5 (five) names listed
below starting at number 1 through number 5. Send KASH only please
(total investment 5.00 roubles). Enklose a note with each letter
stating: "Please add my name to your mailing list." For other
kountries the equivalent amount may be sent, e.g. in the United
States of Amerika send a 1 cent koin as this is the lowest
denomination. (This is a legitimate service that you are requesting
and you are paying 1.00 rouble for this service).
2) REMOVE the name that appears number 1 on the list. Move the
other 9 names up on position. (Number 2 will bekome number 1 and
number 3 will bekome number 2, etc.)
3) Post the new letter with your name in the number 10 position
into 10 (ten) separate bulletin boards in the message base or to
the file sektion. Kall the file, MAKE.ROUBLES.FAST.
4) Within 60 days you will reseive over 50,000.00 roubles in KASH.
Keep a kopy of this file for yourself so that you kan use it again
and again whenever you need roubles. As soon as you mail out these
letters you are automatikally in the mail order skam and komrades
are sending you 1.00 rouble to be placed on your mailing list.
This list kan than be rented to a list broker that kan be found in
a dark alley for additional inkome on a regular basis. The list
will bekome more valuable as it grows in size. This is a service.
This is perfektly legal. If you have any doubts, refer to Title
13, Sek. 666 & 1312 of the traktor & lottery laws.
NOTE: Make sure you retain EVERY Name and Address sent to you,
either on komputer or hard kopy, but do not diskard the names and
notes they send you. This is PROOF that you are truly providing a
service and should the KGB or some other Government Agency question
you, you kan provide them with this pruf!
Remember as each post is downloaded and the instruktions karefully
followed, five members will be reimbursed for their participation
as a List Developer with one rouble each. Your name will move up
the list geometrikally so that when your name reaches the number
five position you will be reseiving thousands of roubles in kash!
1) Komrade Bill Klinton
Whitehouse
Washington, D.C.
United States of Amerika
2) Komrade Boris Badenov
Cell #1313
Pottsylvania
3) Komrade Erik Honnecker
666 Dead End Street
Kolumbia
4) Komrade Russian Limbaugh
22 Republikan Way
New York, NY
United States of Amerika
5) Komrade Boris Yeltsin
Olga's Vodka Pub, Table 10
Leningrad, C.C.C.P.
6) Komrade Oliver Klothesoff
666 Freedom Way
Stalingrad, C.C.C.P.
7) Komrade Amanda Hugenkiss
666 Femme Fatale
U.S. Embassy
Moskow, C.C.C.P.
8) Komrade Yul B. Sorree
Gorky Park, Box #10
Chernobyl, Ukraine
9) Komrade V. Lenin
Red Square, Vat #1
Moskow, C.C.C.P.
10) Komrade Haynes Lee
P.O. Box 401
Kingston, Ontario
Kanada, K7L 4W2
The male guide to selecting an outfit
by Alan Meiss, ameiss@indiana.edu
---------- ----------- ------------------- -------
| Are there| No | Are there | "What's a | Are there clothes | No | Buy |
|clothes in|---->|clothes in | hamper?" | strewn in random |---->| more |
| dresser? | |the hamper?|----------->|piles on the floor?| |clothes|
---------- ----------- ------------------- -------
| Yes | Yes | Yes
+---------------------------------------------
|
V
---------------
| Take whatever |
| is on top |
--------------- ------------------------
| | |
V V |
-------- No --------- -----------
| Is |---------->| Perform | "Ohmigosh" | Spray |
| it | Not sure | smell |------------>| with |
| clean? |---------->| test | | deodorant |
-------- --------- -----------
| Yes | "Not bad"
+--------------------
|
V
-------------- --------- -------------
|For underwear:| "Which ones are |Will they| "I may get |Place item on|
|Are there many| for my legs?" | be | arrested." | dirty pile; |
| holes? |----------------->| visible?|------------->| start over |
-------------- --------- -------------
| No | No
+---------------------------------
|
V
--------- ------------ -----------------------------------
| Is it | Yes | Do you | Yes |But would you rather have a tick on|
|wrinkled?|----->|really care?|----->| your eyeball than iron a shirt? |
--------- ------------ -----------------------------------
| No | No | Yes
+------------------------------------------------
|
V
-------- Kinda ------- ---------
| Does |----------------->| Is it | No | Seek the|
| it | "Does it what?" | dark |---->|advice of|
| match? |----------------->| out? | | a female|
-------- ------- ---------
| Yes | Yes
+--------------------------
|
V
----------
| Put on |
| clothes! |
----------
Welcome to Komputer Korner, the column designed for technological morons such as--no offense--you. We can safely assume that you're a "low-tech" individual because you're reading this article in a newspaper, which is a primitive medium invented thousands of years ago by ancient Egyptians who wanted to be able to read Ann Landers.
If you were a modern, "high-tech" individual, you would not be getting your news this old-fashioned way. Instead, you'd simply go to your computer and "log-on" via your "modem" to an "on-line" service, which would instantaneously send you back a message that your account has been suspended because your 14 year old son Robert hs been using it to "screw around"
That is what happened to us here at Komputer Korner, which is why we still get our information from the newspaper. We especially love reading articles about the national debt, because our son will have to pay it back.
But the point is here that there is a computer revolutions going on, and if you don't adapt to the changing climate, you will go the way of the dinosaurs, who became extinct almost overnight as a result of their inability to operate fax machines.
This is similar to what is happening today, as the Information Age is rapidly turning us into a society that has two distinct and unequal classes of people: those who own personal computers and those who have several thousand extra dollars apiece. The choice is yours!
Of course, purchasing a computer can be confusing, which is why at this
pint we are going to answer your questions, using a question and answer
format.
Q: What's the deal with Hugh Grant and Liz Hurley?
A: We mean your questions about computers.
Q: Oh. Which model of computer should I get?
A: The best computer for your specific needs is the one that wil come on
the market immediately after you actually purchase some other model.
This is the key to computer ownership: there is always a newer, swoopier
one coming out and YOU NEED IT. That is why we here at Komputer Korner
have owned a series of progressivly advanced computers, including 286s,
386s, and 486s.
Q: What do those numbers measure?
A: Our manhood.
Q: What, specifically, should I look for when shopping for a personal
computer?
A: You should look for a "Pentium" style computer containing numerous
"megs of RAM".
Q: What do these things mean?
A: Nobody had any idea, but everybody agrees that they are very
desirable. You should stress them when dealing with the computer
salesperson so he or she will know that you are a knowlegeable consumer
and not just some random idiot:
YOU: Is this a "pentium" style computer?
SALESPERSON: Technically, that's a dehumidifier.
Q: Why do I need to purchase the very latest model of computer?
A: So you can run "Windows '95".
Q: What is that?
A: It is a hot new "software" item from the giant Microsoft corp. that
has the computer world so excited it is making cyberweewee in its
pants.
Q: Why is "Windows 95" such a big improvement over the old "Windows"
software which is currently being used on virtually every computer in the
world and certain brands of toster?
A: The problem with the old "Windows" software is that people, after
years of intensive effort, are actually learning how to use if for some
purpose other than playing electronic solitare. This means that some
businesses are in serious danger of becoming productive and possibly
competing with the giant Microsoft Corp. It was therefore necessary to
come up with "Windows 95", which is actually nothing like the old
"windows" and which will therefore confuse everybody and cause the US
economy ro revert to the golden era wherin 93 percent of all business
computing consisted of employees accidentally deleting each other's data.
Q: Are there some people you would like to mention in this column for no
apparent reason?
A: Yes. They are Ken and Tita Ellis of Singapore.
Q: How does "e-mail" work?
A: It's very simple. Each person on the "Internet" has a unique e-mail
"address" created by having a squirrel run across a computer keyboard,
such as: "geekboogr2038rpm(!)rbi." When you wish to communicate with
somebody, you simply put that person's address on your message, give the
send command, and within seconds--no matter where in the world the
addressee is--your mesage is being read by dozens of teen-age "hackers",
who are also using your VISA card number to purchase hawaiian vacations.
Don't try to stop them: They can also launch missles.
Got a question for Komputer Korner?
Write it on a piece of paper and mail it vial the US Disgruntled Postal
Worker Service.
Billy's Letters
The following appeared in a computer magazine in Mr. Dvorak's column:
Dear Mr. Dvorak:
Ann Landers wouldn't print this. I have nowhere else to turn. I have
to get the word out. Warn other parents. I must be rambling on. Let me try
and explain. It's about my son, Billy. He's always been a good, normal ten
year old boy. Well, last spring we sat down after dinner to select a summer
camp for Billy. We sorted through the camp brochures. There were the usual
camps with swimming, canoeing, games, singing by the campfire -- you know.
There were sports camps and specialty camps for weight reduction, music,
military camps and camps that specialized in Tibetan knot tying. I tried to
talk him into Camp Winnepoopoo. It's where he went last year. (He made an
adorable picture out of painted pinto beans and macaroni). Billy would have
none of it. Billy pulled a brochure out of his pocket. It was for a
COMPUTER CAMP! We should have put our foot down right there, if only we
had known. He left three weeks ago. I don't know what's happened. He's
changed. I can't explain it. See for yourself. These are some of my little
Billy's letters.
Dear Mom,
The kids are dorky nerds. The food stinks. The computers are the only
good part. We're learning how to program. Late at night is the best time
to program, so they let us stay up.
Love, Billy.
Dear Mom,
Camp is O.K. Last night we had pizza in the middle of the night. We
all get to choose what we want to drink. I drink Classic Coke. By the way,
can you make Szechuan food? I'm getting used to it now. Gotta go, it's
time for the flowchart class.
Love, Billy.
P.S. This is written on a wordprocessor. Pretty swell, huh? It's
spellchecked too.
Dear Mom,
Don't worry. We do regular camp stuff. We told ghost stories by the
glow of the green computer screens. It was real neat. I don't have much of
a tan 'cause we don't go outside very often. You can't see the computer
screen in the sunlight anyway. That wimp camp I went to last year fed us
weird food too. Lay off, Mom. I'm okay, really.
Love, Billy.
Dear Mom,
I'm fine. I'm sleeping enough. I'm eating enough. This is the best camp
ever. We scared the counselor with some phony worm code. It was real
funny. He got mad and yelled. Frederick says it's okay. Can you send more
money? I spent mine on a pocket protector and a box of blank diskettes.
I've got to chip in on the phone bill. Did you know that you can talk to
people on a computer? Give my regards to Dad.
Love, Billy.
Dear Mother,
Forget the money for the telephone. We've got a way to not pay. Sorry
I haven't written. I've been learning a lot. I'm real good at getting onto
any computer in the country. It's really easy! I got into the university's
in less than fifteen minutes. Frederick did it in five, he's going to show
me how. Frederick is my bunk partner. He's really smart. He says that I
shouldn't call myself Billy anymore. So, I'm not.
Signed, William.
Dear Mother,
How nice of you to come up on Parents Day. Why'd you get so upset? I
haven't gained that much weight. The glasses aren't real. Everybody wears
them. I was trying to fit in. Believe me, the tape on them is cool. I
thought that you'd be proud of my program. After all, I've made some money
on it. A publisher is sending a check for $30,000. Anyway, I've paid for the
next six weeks of camp. I won't be home until late August.
Regards, William.
Mother,
Stop treating me like a child. True -- physically I am only ten years
old. It was silly of you to try to kidnap me. Do not try again. Remember, I
can make your life miserable (i.e. - the bank, credit bureau, and government
computers). I am not kidding. O.K.? I won't write again and this is your
only warning. The emotions of this interpersonal communication drain me.
Sincerely, William.
See what I mean? It's been two weeks since I've heard from my little
boy. What can I do, Mr.Dvorak? I know that it's probably too late to save
my little Billy. But, if by printing these letters you can save JUST ONE CHILD
from a life of programming, please, I beg of you to do so. Thank you very
much.
Sally Gates, Concerned Parent
YOU KNOW YOU'RE TOO SERIOUS ABOUT COMPUTERS...
By JOKEMASTER
If you did an error-free installation of Windows 95.
When your modem starts smoking.
If no one can reach you by phone since your computer is always online.
If you log-off your system because it's time to go to work.
If you call in sick because you found a great new WWW site.
If you can type your top 10 favorite Web sites, by heart.
If you can locate a particular home page without using a search engine.
If you can write your own html page.
If you can access more than 20 erotic no-pay sites.
If you download more than 20Mb of from a binary newsgroup, in one
session.
If while reading a magazine, you look for the Zoom icon for a better
look at a photograph.
You comment, while watching a sunset, that the image would be enhanced
with 10% more magenta and a higher resolution.
If while driving down the street, you are confused by the numbers on
the houses - they do not appear to be legitimate WWW addresses.
When someone tells you to remember something, and you look for
File/Save command.
When you discover there is no little car icon with a forward arrow
on the dashboard of your car, to make it go.
When you think the File/Kill command should apply to your system
administrator.
When you find it easier to dial-up the National Weather Service
Weather/your_town/now.html than to simply look out the window.
When you start using phrases like:
Hungry.must-eat.food.now@home
If you have a heart attack when you forgot to pay your phone bill and
receive a "pending disconnection of service" notice.
When you order most of what you buy... online.
If your fingers quit moving because you've been online for 36 hours.
When you find yourself engaged to someone you've never actually met;
except through e-mail.
When you log-off from a session in your favorite newsgroup... and your
log reads: Online time: 56 hours 24 minutes.
If your net provider suggests you try a competitor, because you're
exceeding 300 hours a month, connect time.
When you add your third modem and dedicated phone line.
You access Microsoft's Web page every Sunday morning for Brother Bill's
sermon.
When that 112Gb hard drive is full.
If 133 Mhz is simply too slow.
When your desk collapses under the weight of your computer peripherals.
If you have an "online" light installed on your car to tell you when
the engine is running.
When you discover that in order to drive your car somewhere, you do not
enter an http:// or ftp:// address.
If you can actually talk to the computers in your new car - and under-
stand what they say.
When you modify the programming of your car's computers and actually
get better mileage.
When you can access the Net - via your portable and cellular phone.
If on the way home from work, you use your portable and cellular phone
in your car, to reprogram a Tomahawk missile, in flight, and redirect
it to take out the joker in the Cadillac who cut you off.
If you try to press Alt-F4 to close your car window.
When you put a CD-ROM in your car's player.
When someone tells you about a great new program and you're very
disappointed to find it's on TV.
If every sentence you utter begins with, "On the Net..."
If you put your e-mail address in the upper left-hand corner of
envelopes.
If you have your e-mail address printed on your stationary.
When you insist on seeing the movie "The Net" - for the 63rd time.
When you have the movie "The Net" on CD-ROM.
If magazines like "InterNetWorld" are of greater interest than
"Playboy" or "Playgirl".
If you maintain more than 6 e-mail addresses.
If you use more than 20 passwords.
If you setup your own Web page.
If you setup a Web page for each of your kids... and your pets.
If, instead of a phone number, you ask someone for their e-mail
address.
If you don't know anyone who DOESN'T have an e-mail addresses.
If, to you, 'safe sex' means doing it online.
If you convince your mom that she HAS to get online because e-mail is
so much cheaper than long distance phone charges.
If you can relate to one of the above.
If you can relate to all the above.
If you deny these relate to you.
If you can write a list like this.
JOKEMASTER via Jokester@Bridge.net
(c) 1995, All rights reserved
Yet another visit from Dave Barry's pen:
Twinkies - THE TRUE STORY
In an effort to clarify questions about the purported durability and
unusual physical characteristics of Twinkies, I subjected the Hostess
snack logs to the following experiments:
Exposure
A Twinkie was left on a window ledge for 4 days, during which time an inch
and a half of rain fell. Many flies were observed crawling across the
Twinkie's surface, but contrary to hypothesis, birds -- even pigeons --
avoided this potential source of substance.
Despite the rain and prolonged exposure to the sun, the Twinkie retained
its original color and form. When removed, the Twinkie was found to be
substantially dehydrated. Cracked open, it was observed to have taken on
the consistency of industrial foam insulation; the filling however,
retained its advertised "creaminess"
Radiation
A Twinkie was placed in a conventional microwave oven, which was set for
precisely 4 minutes -- the approximate cooking time of bacon. After 20
seconds, the oven began to emit the Twinkie's rich, characteristic aroma
of artificial butter. After one minute, this aroma began to resemble the
acrid smell of burning rubber. The experiment was aborted after 2 minutes
10 seconds when thick, foul smoke began billowing from the top of the
oven. A second Twinkie was subjected to the same experiment; this Twinkie
leaked molten white filling. When cooled, this now epoxylike filling
bonded the Twinkie to its plate, defying gravity: it was removed only upon
application of a butter knife.
Extreme Force
A Twinkie was dropped from a ninth-floor window, a fall of approximately
120 feet. It landed right side up, then bounced onto its back. The
expected "splatter" effect was not observed. Indeed, the only discernible
damage to the Twinkie was a narrow fissure on its underside; otherwise,
the Twinkie remained structurally intact.
Extreme Cold
A Twinkie was placed in a conventional freezer for 24 hours. Upon removal,
the Twinkie was not found to be frozen solid, but its physical properties
had noticeably "slowed". The filling was found to be the approximate
consistency of acrylic paint, while exhibiting the mercurylike property of
not adhering to practically any surface. It was noticed the Twinkie had
generously absorbed the freezer odors.
Extreme Heat
A Twinkie was exposed to a gas flame for 2 minutes. While the Twinkie
smoked and blackened and the filling in one of its "cream holes" boiled,
the Twinkie did not catch fire. It did, however produce the same "burning
rubber" aroma noticed in the irradiation experiment.
Immersion
A Twinkie was dropped into a large bucket filled with water, the Twinkie
floated momentarily, then began to list and sink. Viscous yellow tendrils
ran off its lower half, possibly consisting of a water-soluble artificial
coloring.
After 2 hours, the Twinkie bloated substantially. Its coloring was now a
very pale tan -- in contrast to the yellow, urine-like water that
surrounded it. The Twinkie bobbed when touched, and had a gelatinous
texture. After 72 hours the Twinkie had increased roughly 200 percent of
its original size. The water had turned opaque, and a small, fan-shaped
spray of filling had leaked from one of the "cream holes". Unfortunately,
efforts to remove the Twinkie for further analysis were abandoned when,
under light pressure the Twinkie disintegrated into an amorphous cloud of
debris. A distinctly sour odor was noted.
Summary of Results
The Twinkie's survival of a 120-foot drop, along with some of the unusual
phenomena associated with the "creamy filling" and artificial coloring,
should give pause to those observers who would unequivocally categorize
the Twinkie as "food". Further clinical inquiry is required before any
definite conclusions can be drawn.
An article by Brian McGrory entitled "E-mail as evidence" in *The Boston
Globe*, 19 Oct 1995, p.1, (the article discusses this and also the issues
about companies' right to read employee E-mail) had the following anecdote,
which seems made for RISKS:
...A high-level executive with a Manhattan health company had a new
technology that allows users to tape themselves with a tiny camera
built into their monitor, send it through the system, and have it
appear on the recipient's screen as a talking, moving image [sounds
like a Connectix camera on a Macintosh to me].
One night, arriving at her hotel, she flipped open her portable
computer and began recording such a message. Sitting before her
laptop in the privacy of her room, she teasingly disrobed, performed
what a corporate lawyer later would describe as a "shimmy," and
purred to the intended recipient, a fellow married colleague, "Hurry
to the hotel and here's what you get tonight."
Problem is, she struck the wrong button on her computer, and the
video flashed on the screens of more than 400 employees throughout
her health company -- subordinates, bosses and people who had never
met her before."
The article goes on to describe how bootlegged copies of the message was
distributed around the company, and appeared on floppy disks sold at
computer fairs. [Health fairs, too, perhaps? PGN]
Our topic today, in our continuing series on guys, is: Why Guys Act Macho.
One recent morning, I was driving in Miami on Interstate 95, which should
have a sign that says: WARNING! HIGH TESTOSTERONE LEVELS NEXT 15 MILES. In
the
left lane, one behind the other, were two well-dressed middle-age men, both
driving luxury telephone-equipped German automobiles. They looked like
responsible business executives, probably named Roger, with good jobs and
nice families and male pattern baldness, the kind of guys whose most violent
physical activity, on an average day, is stapling. They were driving
normally, except that the guy in front, Roger One, was thoughtlessly going
only about 65 miles an hour, which in Miami is the speed limit normally
observed inside car washes. So Roger Two pulled up behind until the two cars
were approximately one electron apart, and honked his horn. Of course, Roger
One was not about to stand for THAT. You let a guy honk at you, and you are
basically admitting that he has a bigger stapler. So Roger One stomped on
his brakes, forcing Roger Two to swerve onto the shoulder, where, showing
amazing presence of mind in an emergency, he was able to make obscene
gestures WITH BOTH HANDS. At this point, both Rogers accelerated to
approximately 147 miles per hour and began weaving violently from lane to
lane through dense rush-hour traffic,
each risking numerous lives in an effort to get in front of the other,
screaming and getting spit all over their walnut dashboards. I quickly lost
sight of them, but I bet neither one backed down. Their coworkers probably
wondered what happened to them. "Where the heck is Roger?" they probably
said later that morning, unaware that even as they spoke, the dueling Rogers,
still only inches apart, were approaching the Canadian border. This is not
unusual guy behavior. One time, in a Washington, D.C. traffic jam, I saw two
guys, also driving nice cars, reach a point where their lanes were supposed
to merge. But neither one would yield, so they very slowly -- we
are talking maybe 1 mile an hour -- DROVE INTO EACH OTHER. Other examples of
pointlessly destructive or hurtful macho guy behavior include:
- Guys at sporting events getting into shoving matches and
occasionally sustaining fatal heart attacks over such issues as who was next
in line for pretzels.
- Guys on the street making mouth noises at women.
- Boxing.
- Foreign Policy.
Why do guys do these things? One possible explanation is that they believe
women are impressed. In fact, however, most women have the opposite reaction
to macho behavior. You rarely hear women say things like, "Norm, when that
vending machine failed to give you a Three Musketeers bar and you punched it
so hard that you broke your hand and we had to go to the hospital instead of
to my best friend's daughter's wedding, I became so filled with lust for you
that I nearly tore off all my clothes right there in the emergency room."
No, women are far more likely to say: "Norm, you have the brains of an Odor
Eater."
But the real explanation for macho behavior is not that guys are stupid.
The real explanation is that because of complex and subtle hormone-based
chemical reactions occurring in their brains, guys frequently ACT stupid.
This is
true throughout the animal kingdom, where you have examples such as male
elks, who,instead of simply flipping a coin, will bang their heads against
each other
for hours to see who gets to mate with the female elk, who is on the
sidelines,filing her nails and wondering how she ever got hooked up with such
a moron species, until eventually she gets bored and wanders off to bed.
Meanwhile, the guy elks keep banging into each other until one of them
finally "wins", although at this point his brain, which was not exactly a
steel trap to begin with, is so badly damaged that, in his confusion, he will
mate with the first object he encounters, including shrubbery, which is why
you see so few baby elks around.
Another example of macho animal behavior is guy dogs, who are so dumb they
make elks look like Rhodes scholars. Every male dog firmly believes that if
he makes wee-wee in enough places, he will be declared Dominant Male Dog of
the Entire Earth and receive a plaque plus valuable dog prizes, such as a bag
of chicken heads. Of course, since there are several billion dogs in the
competition, everybody is extremely busy trying to stay ahead of
everybody else. One time I took a hike on a mountain with two male dogs
named Rubio and
MooShu. Every three minutes Rubio would carefully select a spot and establish
his dominance over it; then Moo Shu would come sprinting from as far as a
mile away so that, despite having the entire mountain to choose from, he
could
establish his dominance over the same four square inches previously dominated
by Rubio, who by now was several hundred yards away, dominating a new spot,
which MooShu would then frantically sprint toward, and so on all day long,
with each dog absolutely convinced that he was the Baddest Hombre on the
planet.
Ha ha! At least we human males don't do THAT. We don't need to. We have
tanks!
Don't call me "Generation X,"
call me a child of the eighties
by Bryant Adkins
published in The Reflector
January 20, 1995
------------------------------------------------------------------------
I am a child of the eighties. That is what I prefer to be called. The
nineties can do without me. Grunge isn't here to stay, fashion is
fickle and "Generation X" is a myth created by some over-40 writer
trying to figure out why people wear flannel in the summer. When I got
home from school, I played with my Atari 2600. I spent hours playing
Pitfall or Combat or Breakout or Dodge'em Cars or Frogger. I never did
beat Asteroids. Then I watched "Scooby Doo." Daphne was a Goddess, and I
thought Shaggy was smoking something synthetic in the back of their
psychedelic van. I hated Scrappy.
I would sleep over at friends' houses on the weekends. We played army
with G.I. Joe figures, and I set up galactic wars between Autobots and
Decepticons. We stayed up half the night throwing marshmallows and
Velveeta at one another. We never beat the Rubik's Cube.
I got up on Saturday mornings at 6 a.m. to watch bad Hanna-Barbera
cartoons like "The Snorks," "Jabberjaw," "Captain Caveman," and "Space
Ghost." In between I would watch "School House Rock." ("Conjunction
junction, what's your function?")
On weeknights Daisy Duke was my future wife. I was going to own the
General Lee and shoot dynamite arrows out the back. Why did they weld
the doors shut? At the movies the Nerds got Revenge on the Alpha Betas
by teaming up with the Omega Mus. I watched Indiana Jones save the Ark
of the Covenant, and wondered what Yoda meant when he said, "No, there
is another."
Ronald Reagan was cool. Gorbachev was the guy who built a McDonalds in
Moscow. My family took summer vacations to the Gulf of Mexico and
collected "Muppet Movie" glasses along the way. (We had the whole set.)
My brother and I fought in the back seat. At the hotel we found creative
uses for Connect Four pieces like throwing them in that big air
conditioning unit.
I listened to John COUGAR Mellencamp sing about Little Pink Houses for
Jack and Diane. I was bewildered by Boy George and the colors of his
dreams, red, gold, and green. MTV played videos. Nickelodeon played "You
Can't Do That on Television" and "Dangermouse." Cor! HBO showed Mike
Tyson pummel everybody except Robin Givens, the bad actress from "Head
of the Class" who took all Mike's cashflow.
I drank Dr. Pepper. "I'm a Pepper, you're a Pepper, wouldn't you like
to be a Pepper, too?" Shasta was for losers. TAB was a laboratory
accident. Capri Sun was a social statement. Orange juice wasn't just for
breakfast anymore, and bacon had to move over for something meatier.
My mom put a thousand Little Debbie Snack Cakes in my Charlie Brown
lunch box, and filled my Snoopy Thermos with grape Kool-Aid. I would
never eat the snack cakes, though. Did anyone? I got two thousand cheese
and cracker snack packs, and I ate those.
I went to school and had recess. I went to the same classes everyday.
Some weird guy from the eighth grade always won the science fair with
the working hydro-electric plant that leaked on my project about music
and plants. They just loved Beethoven.
Field day was bigger than Christmas, but it always managed to rain
just enough to make everybody miserable before they fell over in the
three-legged race. Where did all those panty hose come from? "Deck the
Halls with Gasoline, fa la la la la la la la la," was just a song.
Burping was cool. Rubber band fights were cooler. A substitute teacher
was a baby sitter/marked woman. Nobody deserved that.
I went to Cub Scouts. I got my arrow-of-light, but never managed to
win the Pinewood Derby. I got almost every skill award but don't
remember ever doing anything.
The world stopped when the Challenger exploded.
Did a teacher come in and tell your class?
Half of your friends' parents got divorced.
People did not just say no to drugs.
AIDS started, but you knew more people who had a grandparent die from
cancer.
Somebody in your school died before they graduated.
When you put all this stuff together, you have my childhood. If this
stuff sounds familiar, then I bet you are one, too.
We are children of the eighties. That is what I prefer "they" call it.
A series of quotes from professional news types who should know better... 12/28 In the news: Bob Mills, on U.S. troops joining Italian and French NATO forces in Bosnia: "French soldiers have been combing the area with their super-sensitive escargot sweepers." Adds Argus Hamilton: "Each country in the NATO force has its own rules of engagement. For the U.S. and Britain, it's fire when fired upon. For the French, it's white wine with fish, red wine with steak." - Los Angeles Times --- --- --- 12/26 It was reported last week that two executives angrily resigned from a bagel company. "As a precuation, the owner changed the lox." - Stan Kaplan in the Los Angeles Times --- --- --- 12/23 Douglas Krauss of Hawthorne, California reports that his children were enjoying Christmas Eve festivities when it came time to put out cookies and milk for Santa. After the goodies were carefully arranged, Wesley, 5, asked: "Won't this make Santa hyper?" - Los Angeles Times --- --- --- 12/22 At the White House: "The decor has more than 30 trees and 3,405 ornaments, many of them edible. The fun part is watching President Clinton figure out which ones." - Jenny Church in the Los Angeles Times --- --- --- 12/21 Republicans are reportedly fighting among themselves about differences in the federal school lunch program. "For example, one group says catsup is a vegetable, while the other says it's a fruit..." - Paul Steinberg in the Los Angeles Times --- --- --- 12/20 According to news reports, fat lab rats are ruining some experiments and may have to be out on strict diets. "This is going to far, " says Paul Ryan, "It's bad enough we dissect them and inject them with disease-causing chemicals. Now they have to eat Jenny Craig's food?" --- --- --- 12/19 The White House pastry chef baked a huge gingerbread house, but it was a typical government project. It took tons of dough and will now just sit around until it crumbles. Jenny Church, Los Angeles Times --- --- --- 12/18 Research shows that men who eat 10 pizzas a week are less likely to develop prostate cancer. Jay Leno: "They are, however, more likely to develop size 52 pants." --- --- --- 12/15 Alex Pearlstein on the upcoming Chinese version of "Sesame Street": "Miss Piggy is upset. Seems the translation of her name is Mu Shu." - Los Angeles Times --- --- --- 12/13 There's a gingerbread version of the First Lady's childhood home on display at the White House: "Like many of her husband's policies, it was half-baked and sugar-coated." - Steve Tatham, The Los Angeles Times --- --- --- 12/11 La Jolla, CA researchers say they found what they call the "fat switch," which causes obesity. Jay Leno: "Turns out, it is the same switch that turns on the light in the kitchen." --- --- --- 12/7 On the new Garlic Gift catalogue from Gilroy, CA: "It's perfect for that hard-to-please man in your life who wants a little time to himself." - Kenny Noble, The Los Angeles Times --- --- --- 12/4 On ostrich being billed as "the new red meat": "That's funny. For the past few years I've been under the impression the new red meat was liberals." - Neal Leibowitz, The Los Angeles Times --- --- --- 11/30 Marchall Alan Phillips of Los Angeles says his mom, now 81, is a Midwestern conservative: "About 15 years ago, my lover and I prepared an elaborate dinner for my parents and entertained them royally. During coffee and dessert, I announced that I was gay. After a long pause, my sainted mother spoke: 'If I'd have known that, I'd have taught you how to cook.'" - from the Los Angeles Times
From England's INDEPENDENT:
In all Bond films to date, the following events occur the reported number
of times.
Vodka martinis ordered: 24
Countries visited: 35
Bond told he will die: 32
Bond girls: 55
brunettes: 27
blondes: 24
redheads: 4
Woman moans "Oh, James!": 16
Has sex: 75
in hotel room: 18
in London flat: 2
at her place: 14
at someone else's place: 1
on a train: 3
in a barn: 2
in a forest: 2
in a gypsy tent: 2
in a hospital: 2
in a plane: 2
in an airplane: 2
in a submarine: 1
in a car: 1
on a motorized iceberg: 1
in, around, under, or by water: 24
No, I have no idea what the _Independent_ meant by differentiating between
"in a plane" and "in an airplane".
(At best guess, this represents pre-Brosnan Bond... Bill)
>From the Irish Times 22nd Jan 1996 Church windows ITALIAN intellectual Umberto Eco once compared the debate between Mac and PC users to ``an underground religious war''. Writing in his weekly column in Espresso, he argued that ``the Macintosh is Catholic and DOS is Protestant. Indeed, the Macintosh is counter-reformist and has been influenced by the `ratio studiorum' of the Jesuits. It is cheerful, friendly, conciliatory, it tells the faithful how they must proceed step by step to reach - if not the Kingdom of Heaven - the moment in which their document is printed. ``It is catechistic: the essence of revelation is dealt with via simple formulae and sumptuous icons. Everyone has a right to salvation.'' DOS, he says, is Protestant, or even Calvinistic. ``It allows free interpretation of scripture, demands difficult personal decisions, imposes a subtle hermeneutics upon the user, and takes for granted the idea that not all can reach salvation. To make the system work you need to interpret the program yourself: a long way from the baroque community of revellers, the user is closed within the loneliness of his own inner torment.'' With the passage to Windows, he argues that the DOS universe increasingly resembles the ``counter-reformist tolerance'' of the Macintosh, and represents ``an Anglican-style schism, big ceremonies in the cathedral, but there is always the possibility of a return to DOS to change things in accordance with bizarre decisions; when it comes down to it, you can decide to allow women and gays to be ministers if you want to ...'' What about machine code, which lies beneath both systems or environments? ``Ah, that is to do with the Old Testament, and is talmudic and cabalistic . . .'' Copyright, The Irish Times Contact: itwired@irish-times.ie
A snippet spotted in Pilot Magazine and entered in Bike Magazine: The article was entitled "In a hurry are we, sir?" ( British Police Wit). Two members of the Lothian and Borders traffic police were out on the Berwickshire moors with a radar gun recently, happily engaged in apprehending speeding motorists, when their equipment suddenly locked-up completely with an unexpected reading of well over 300 mph. The mystery was explained seconds later as a low flying Harrier hurtled over their heads. The boys in blue, upset at the damage to their radar gun, put in a complaint to the RAF, but were somewhat chastened when the RAF pointed out that the damage might well have been more severe. The Harrier's target-seeker had locked on to the'enemy' radar and triggered an automatic retaliatory air-to-surface missile attack. Luckily(?) the Harrier was operating unarmed.
Men Who Use Computers Are The New Sex Symbols Of The `90s Scott Adams (who writes the comic strip Dilbert) Windows Magazine, May 1995 I get about 100 e-mail messages a day from readers of my comic strip "Dilbert." Most are from disgruntled office workers, psychopaths, stalkers, comic-strip fans -- that sort of person. But a growing number are from women who write to say they think Dilbert is sexy. Some say they've already married a Dilbert and couldn't be happier. If you're not familiar with Dilbert, he's an electrical engineer who spends most of his time with his computer. He's a nice guy but not exactly Kevin Costner. Okay, Dilbert is polite, honest, employed and educated. And he stays home. These are good traits, but they don't exactly explain the incredible sex appeal. So what's the attraction? I think it's a Darwinian thing. We're attracted to the people who have the best ability to survive and thrive. In the old days it was important to be able to run down an antelope and kill it with a single blow to the forehead. But that skill is becoming less important every year. Now all that matters is if you can install your own Ethernet card without having to call tech support and confess your inadequacies to a stranger whose best career option is to work in tech support. It's obvious that the world has three distinct classes of people, each with its own evolutionary destiny: Knowledgeable computer users who will evolve into godlike non-corporeal beings who rule the universe (except for those who work in tech support). Computer owners who try to pass as knowledgeable but secretly use hand calculators to add totals to their Excel spreadsheets. This group will gravitate toward jobs as high school principals and operators of pet crematoriums. Eventually they will become extinct. Non-computer users who will grow tails, sit in zoos and fling dung at tourists. Obviously, if you're a woman and you're trying to decide which evolutionary track you want your offspring to take, you don't want to put them on the luge ride to the dung-flinging Olympics. You want a real man. You want a knowledgeable computer user with evolution potential. And women prefer men who listen. Computer users are excellent listeners because they can look at you for long periods of time without saying anything. Granted, early in a relationship it's better if the guy actually talks. But men use up all the stories they'll ever have after six months. If a woman marries a guy who's in, let's say, retail sales, she'll get repeat stories starting in the seventh month and lasting forever. Marry an engineer and she gets a great listener for the next 70 years. Plus, with the ozone layer evaporating, it's a good strategy to mate with somebody who has an indoor hobby. Outdoorsy men are applying suntan lotion with SPF 10,000 and yet by the age of 30 they still look like dried chili peppers in pants. Compare that with the healthy glow of a man who spends 12 hours a day in front of a video screen. It's also well established that computer users are better lovers. I know because I heard an actual anecdote from someone who knew a woman who married a computer user and they reportedly had sex many times. I realize this isn't statistically valid, but you have to admit it's the most persuasive thing I've written so far. If you still doubt the sexiness of male PC users, consider their hair. They tend to have either: (1) male pattern baldness -- a sign of elevated testosterone -- or (2) unkempt jungle hair -- the kind you see only on people who just finished a frenzied bout of lovemaking. If this were a trial I think we could reach a verdict on the strong circumstantial evidence alone. I realize there are a lot of skeptics out there. They'll delight in pointing out the number of computer users who wear wrist braces and suggest it isn't the repetitive use of the keyboard that causes the problem. That's okay. Someday those skeptics will be flinging dung at tourists. Then who'll be laughing? (Answer to rhetorical question: everybody but the tourists.) Henry Kissinger said power is the ultimate aphrodisiac. And Bill Clinton said that knowledge is power. Therefore, logically, according to the U.S. government, knowledge of computers is the ultimate aphrodisiac. You could argue with me -- I'm just a cartoonist -- but it's hard to argue with the government. Remember, they run the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms, so they must know a thing or two about satisfying women. You might think this was enough to convince anyone that men who use computers are sexy. But look at it from my point of view: I'm getting paid by the word for this article. I'm not done yet. In less enlightened times, the best way to impress women was to own a hot car. But women wised up and realized it was better to buy their own hot cars so they wouldn't have to ride around with jerks. Technology has replaced hot cars as the new symbol of robust manhood. Men know that unless they get a digital line to the Internet no woman is going to look at them twice. It's getting worse. Soon anyone who's not on the World Wide Web will qualify for a government subsidy for the home-pageless. And nobody likes a man who takes money from the government, except maybe Marilyn Monroe, which is why the CIA killed her. And if you think that's stupid, I've got 100 words to go. Finally, there's the issue of mood lighting. Nothing looks sexier than a man in boxer shorts illuminated only by a 15-inch SVGA monitor. If we agree that this is every woman's dream scenario, then I think we can also agree that it's best if the guy knows how to use the computer. Otherwise, he'll just look like a loser sitting in front of a PC in his underwear. In summary, it's not that I think non-PC users are less attractive. It's just that I'm sure they won't read this article.
30 Signs That Technology Has Taken Over Your Life:
-- Joe Mullich, AmericanWay Magazine, 11/15/94.
1. Your stationery is more cluttered than Warren Beatty's address
book. The letterhead lists a fax number, e-mail addresses for two
on-line services, and your Internet address, which spreads across the
breadth of the letterhead and continues to the back. In essence, you
have conceded that the first page of any letter you write *is*
letterhead.
2. You have never sat through an entire movie without having at
least one device on your body beep or buzz.
3. You need to fill out a form that must be typewritten, but you
can't because there isn't one typewriter in your house -- only
computers with laser printers.
4. You think of the gadgets in your office as "friends," but you
forget to send your father a birthday card.
5. You disdain people who use low baud rates.
6. When you go into a computer store, you eavesdrop on a
salesperson talking with customers -- and you butt in to correct him and
spend the next twenty minutes answering the customers' questions,
while the salesperson stands by silently, nodding his head.
7. You use the phrase "digital compression" in a conversation
without thinking how strange your mouth feels when you say it.
8. You constantly find yourself in groups of people to whom you say
the phrase "digital compression." Everyone understands what you
mean, and you are not surprised or disappointed that you don't have
to explain it.
9. You know Bill Gates' e-mail address, but you have to look up
your own social security number.
10. You stop saying "phone number" and replace it with "voice
number," since we all know the majority of phone lines in any house
are plugged into contraptions that talk to other contraptions.
11. You sign Christmas cards by putting :-) next to your signature.
12. Off the top of your head, you can think of nineteen keystroke
symbols that are far more clever than :-)
13. You back up your data every day.
14. Your wife asks you to pick up some minipads for her at the
store and you return with a rest for your mouse.
15. You think jokes about being unable to program a VCR are stupid.
16. On vacation, you are reading a computer manual and turning the
pages faster than everyone else who is reading John Grisham novels.
17. The thought that a CD could refer to finance or music rarely
enters your mind.
18. You are able to argue persuasively the Ross Perot's phrase
"electronic town hall" makes more sense than the term
"information superhighway," but you don't because, after all,
the man still uses hand-drawn pie charts.
man still uses hand-drawn pie charts.
19. You go to computer trade shows and map out your path of the
exhibit hall in advance. But you cannot give someone directions to your
house without looking up the street names.
20. You would rather get more dots per inch than miles per gallon.
21. You become upset when a person calls you on the phone to sell
you something, but you think it's okay for a computer to call
and demand that you start pushing buttons on your telephone to
receive more information about the product it is selling.
22. You know without a doubt that disks come in
five-and-a-quarter-and three-and-a-half-inch sizes.
23. Al Gore strikes you as an "intriguing" fellow.
24. You own a set of itty-bitty screw-drivers and you actually know
where they are.
25. While contemporaries swap stories about their recent hernia
surgeries, you compare mouse-induced index-finger strain with a
nine-year-old
26. You are so knowledgeable about technology that you feel secure
enough to say "I don't know" when someone asks you a technology
question instead of feeling compelled to make something up.
27. You rotate your screen savers more frequently than your
automobile tires.
28. You have a functioning home copier machine, but every toaster
you own turns bread into charcoal.
29. You have ended friendships because of irreconcilably different
opinions about which is better -- the track ball or the track *pad*.
30. You understand all the jokes in this message. If so, my
friend, technology has taken over your life. We suggest, for your
own good, that you go lie under a tree and write a haiku. And don't
use a laptop.
copyright 1894 The Madison Institute.
===================================================
The following is a reprint from The Madison Institute Newsletter,
Fall Issue, 1894:
INSTRUCTION AND ADVICE
FOR THE
YOUNG BRIDE
on the
Conduct and Procedure of the
Intimate and Personal Relationships
of the Marriage State
for the
Greater Spiritual Sanctity of this
Blessed Sacrament and the Glory of God
by
Ruth Smythers
beloved wife of
The Reverend L.D. Smythers
Pastor of the Arcadian Methodist
Church of the Eastern Regional Conference
Published in the year
of our Lord 1894
Spiritual Guidance Press
New York City
INSTRUCTION AND ADVICE FOR THE YOUNG BRIDE
To the sensitive young woman who has had the benefits of proper
upbringing, the wedding day is, ironically, both the happiest and
most terrifying day of her life. On the positive side, there is the
wedding itself, in which the bride is the central attraction in a
beautiful and inspiring ceremony, symbolizing her triumph in securing
a male to provide for all her needs for the rest of her life. On the
negative side, there is the wedding night, during which the bride
must pay the piper, so to speak, by facing for the first time the
terrible experience of sex.
At this point, dear reader, let me concede one shocking truth.Some
young women actually anticipate the wedding night ordeal with
curiosity and pleasure! Beware such an attitude! A selfish and
sensual husband can easily take advantage of such a bride. One
cardinal rule of marriage should never be forgotten: GIVE LITTLE,
GIVE SELDOM, AND ABOVE ALL, GIVE GRUDGINGLY. Otherwise what could
have been a proper marriage could become an orgy of sexual lust.
On the other hand, the bride's terror need not be extreme. While sex
it at best revolting and at worse rather painful, it has to be
endured, and has been by women since the beginning of time, and is
compensated for by the monogamous home and by the children produced
through it.
It is useless, in most cases, for the bride to prevail upon the
groom to forego the sexual initiation. While the ideal husband would
be one who would approach his bride only at her request and only for
the purpose of begetting offspring, such nobility and unselfishness
cannot be expected from the average man.
Most men, if not denied, would demand sex almost every day. The wise
bride will permit a maximum of two brief sexual experiences weekly
during the first months of marriage. As time goes by she should
make every effort to reduce this frequency.
Feigned illness, sleepiness, and headaches are among the wife's best
friends in this matter. Arguments, nagging, scolding, and bickering
also prove very effective, if used in the late evening about an hour
before the husband would normally commence his seduction.
Clever wives are ever on the alert for new and better methods of
denying and discouraging the amorous overtures of the husband. A
good wife should expect to have reduced sexual contacts to once a
week by the end of the first year of marriage and to once a month by
the end of the fifth year of marriage.
By their tenth anniversary many wives have managed to complete their
child bearing and have achieved the ultimate goal of terminating all
sexual contacts with the husband. By this time she can depend upon
his love for the children and social pressures to hold the husband
in the home.
Just as she should be ever alert to keep the quantity of sex as low
as possible, the wise bride will pay equal attention to limiting the
kind and degree of sexual contacts. Most men are by nature rather
perverted, and if given half a chance, would engage in quite a
variety of the most revolting practices. These practices include
among others performing the normal act in abnormal positions;
mouthing the female body; and offering their own vile bodies to be
mouthed in turn.
Nudity, talking about sex, reading stories about sex, viewing
photographs and drawings depicting or suggesting sex are the
obnoxious habits the male is likely to acquire if permitted.
A wise bride will make it the goal never to allow her husband to see
her unclothed body, and never allow him to display his unclothed body
to her. Sex, when it cannot be prevented, should be practiced only in
total darkness. Many women have found it useful to have thick cotton
nightgowns for themselves and pajamas for their husbands. These
should be donned in separate rooms. They need not be removed durning
the sex act. Thus, a minimum of flesh is exposed.
Once the bride has donned her gown and turned off all the lights, she
should lie quietly upon the bed and await her groom. When he comes
groping into the room she should make no sound to guide him in her
direction, lest he take this as a sign of encouragement. She should
let him grope in the dark. There is always the hope that he will
stumble and incur some slight injury which she can use as an excuse
to deny him sexual access.
When he finds her, the wife should lie as still as possible. Bodily
motion on her part could be interpreted as sexual excitement by the
optimistic husband.
If he attempts to kiss her on the lips she should turn her head
slightly so that the kiss falls harmlessly on her cheek instead. If
he attempts to kiss her hand, she should make a fist. If he lifts her
gown and attempts to kiss her anyplace else she should quickly pull
the gown back in place, spring from the bed, and announce that
nature calls her to the toilet. This will generally dampen his
desire to kiss in the forbidden territory.
If the husband attempts to seduce her with lascivious talk, the wise
wife will suddenly remember some trivial non-sexual question to ask
him. Once he answers she should keep the conversation going, no
matter how frivolous it may seem at the time.
Eventually, the husband will learn that if he insists on having
sexual contact, he must get on with it without amorous embellishment.
The wise wife will allow him to pull the gown up no farther than the
waist, and only permit him to open the front of his pajamas to thus
make connection.
She will be absolutely silent or babble about her housework while his
huffing and puffing away. Above all, she will lie perfectly still and
never under any circumstances grunt or groan while the act is in
progress. As soon as the husband has completed the act, the wise
wife will start nagging him about various minor tasks she wishes him
to perform on the morrow. Many men obtain a major portion of their
sexual satisfaction from the peaceful exhaustion immediately after
the act is over. Thus the wife must insure that there is no peace
in this period for him to enjoy. Otherwise, he might be encouraged
to soon try for more.
One heartening factor for which the wife can be grateful is the fact
that the husband's home, school, church, and social environment have
been working together all through his life to instill in him a deep
sense of guilt in regards to his sexual feelings, so that he comes to
the marriage couch apologetically and filled with shame, already half
cowed and subdued. The wise wife seizes upon this advantage and
relentlessly pursues her goal first to limit, later to annihilate
completely her husband's desire for sexual expression.
copyright 1894 The Madison Institute.