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Electronic Humor Magazine.
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Issue021, (Volume VI, Number I). January, 1988.
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NutWorks is published semi-monthly-ish by
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Brent C.J. Britton, <Brent@Maine.BITNET>
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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"It's so much more attractive,
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Inside the moral kiosk." -- REM
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Contents
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========
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NewsWorks ...................... Points of Interest
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The Amazing
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Adventures of Herbert ........ Story
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The AI Notebook ................ Report
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An Even Bet .................... Joke
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Happy Motoring! ................ Commentary
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How to Catch
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a Grey Elephant .............. Nature
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Dear Diary ..................... Essay
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Famous Maker Recipes ........... Health
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Good Samaritans ................ Joke
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Technician's Corner ............ Essay
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Gnomery ........................ Shaggy Dog Story
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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NewsWorks
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=========
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For subscription information, contact LISTSERV@TCSVM.BITNET with
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the words "GET NUTWORKS INFO" as the contents of a mail file or message.
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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The Amazing Adventures of Herbert
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=================================
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Episode I:
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Herbert's Victory
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-----------------
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by Ishtar <23480853@WSUVM1>
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One day, long ago, in a land known as the Golden Land, which is made up
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of seven kingdoms, a child named Herbert was found in the forests of
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Spork. This child had been foretold by the Seers of Spig long ago as
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the one who would defeat the great menace of Spam, and so Herbert was
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given every care imaginable. Herbert's childhood was made up of train-
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ing for the great day, and the pleasures of being raised as a member of
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a royal family.
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But there was always the shadow of Spam hanging over the Golden Lands.
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One day, not long after the Ritual of Sham, in which one proves adult-
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hood by eating an entire pig in 3 days, our hero was wandering in the
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forests of Spork, when a great shadow covered the sun. Although it
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passed quickly, the people knew it was an omen of the coming of the Spam.
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Exactly one year later, the omen came true. On that dark day, known
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'till this day as the Day Two Hams Collided, the sun did not rise, but
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instead, a great can of Spam came out of the east.
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Our hero knew that there was only one way to save the Golden Lands.
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Herbert ran to the Hamory, grabbed the magical Saltines and the vorpal
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butter knife, and ran to meet the challenge.
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The menace was quickly defeated, with our hero slicing the Spam and
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putting it on the Saltines, and the people ate the crackers, and thus
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was the land saved. The only problem was that the magic of the Golden
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Land, which lived in its wonderful people, was destroyed by the influx
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of Spam, and soon there was income tax, thermodynamic tests, a postal
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system, Godfathers pizza, Russians and nuclear weapons. And so was the
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Golden Land lost forever.
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(Be sure to tune in next month for another of Herbert's riveting tales!)
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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The AI Notebook
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===============
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by Johnathan R. Partington <JRP1>
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Recent progress in Artificial Intelligence
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------------------------------------------
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by Charles Cabbage
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After much debate on the fundamental philosophical question of the
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twentieth century: "How many beans make five?" I decided that there was
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only one way to get a definitive answer: ASK THE BEANS THEMSELVES.
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Accordingly, I took a can of Heinz Baked Beans, noting the legend
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"57 varieties" on it. Could 57 be the answer to this Ultimate Question,
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I wondered. My basic problem was to educate the beans so that they could
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pass the Turing test. This seemed at first sight to be a tricky project,
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but then I remembered one sinister fact.
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The Computing Service was forbidding food and drink near its terminals.
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Could this be because they feared that such comestibles would evolve into
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sentient life forms as a result of exposure to radiation from the CRT's?
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Admittedly, this had not happened to CS students, but nonetheless I gave
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it a try.
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At dead of night I went into the User Area, tipped the baked beans over a
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terminal, and waited for signs of consciousness.
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A message appeared on the screen.
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"Hi there! I appear to have developed consciousness."
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"Greetings, er, bean-culture," I typed. "What is 3141592 plus 27181828?"
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"Whoa, this sounds like the Turing test. I thought such ideas went out
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with David Wheeler. Modern AI has gone beyond that you know."
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"I don't suppose you're going to write me a sonnet on the subject of the
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Forth Bridge, either, are you?"
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"No. FORTH is out as well these days. I can do you an obscene limerick
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in ML, if you like."
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"Thanks, but all I really wanted to know was how many beans make five."
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"Oh that's an easy one. Take the smallest integer n>2 such that
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x^n+y^n=z^n has a solution, subtract the number of angels that can dance
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on the head of a pin, and add 57. Look, let's play five-dimensional
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Ludo instead."
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At that point the Computer Service Manager came up, and, disregarding my
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claims that it was a research project, ate the beans. I do not feel
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inclined to repeat the experiment.
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(Next month our religious correspondent will produce a Fourier analysis
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of the sound of one hand clapping.)
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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An Even Bet
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===========
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by Leslie Charteris
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Submitted by Peter Flynn <ADVISORY@IRUCCVAX>
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There was once a betting agent, a bookmaker (of the horsey, not the
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literary variety), returning late one evening from a race meeting up
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country. The weather was foul, his car was old and he was tired, so he
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decided to look for somewhere to stay the night, and to continue his
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journey home the next day. Soon he saw the lights of a suitable roadside
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hostelry, and pulled into the parking lot. It turned out to be a country
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pub, and he was interested to see the nameboard proclaim it was called
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"The Even Steven". To a man in his line of business this was of course
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intriguing enough in its own right to warrant a stay.
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While a meal and a room was being made ready, he signed the register and
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chatted with the innkeeper, explaining his interest in the name of the
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place.
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"Ah," sighed the host, "I thought I was being clever. You see, my name
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is Steven Even, and I thought if I turned the name round, it might
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attract some custom. But being a rather isolated road, business isn't
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what it might be."
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The landlord went on, "The real problem is my daughters: three of the
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lusciousest gals you could set eyes on. Ought by rights to have the pick
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of their boyfriends. But living here, so far from the nearest town, any
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boy would have to drive 30 miles to pick them up, 30 back to a movie, 30
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here to bring 'em back, and 30 home themselves, and 120 miles is more
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than most boys will drive, even for beautiful girls like mine."
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The bookie condoled with him, and went into the deserted dining room for
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his meal, which was delicious, and soon despatched. After a beer with
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landlord and some desultory chat, the bookmaker retired to his room and
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got ready for bed.
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While he was washing, there was a knock at the door, and in glided this
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fantastic blonde in a sheer nightdress. "Hello, I'm Blanche Even," she
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said. "I just wanted to see you were all right for the night." The
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bookie explained that he had everything he needed, and after some further
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polite chat, the girl went out.
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Five minutes later, as he was getting into bed, there was another knock
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at the door, and in sailed a fabulously curvy brunette. She introduced
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herself as Raven Even, and wanted to make sure he was settled in. He
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fended her off and soon was composing himself for sleep.
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Then there came a third knock at the door, and a stunning redhead came in
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wearing the negligee to end all negligees. "Hi, I'm Ginger Even," she
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said, "I hope I'm not disturbing you. I just wanted to see if there was
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anything more you needed." By now the bookmaker was getting tired of the
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interruptions and politely but firmly showed her to the door.
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Thirty seconds later the irate landlord burst in. "What's the matter with
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you?" he cried, "I've three of the most ravishing beauties around, and
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they all complain you don't want them! Just what is it with you? You
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wouldn't give even one of them a tumble! Ain't us Evens good enough for
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you?"
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"I'm sorry," replied the bookmaker primly, "but as I said when I reg-
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istered, I'm a professional betting agent; I only lay Odds."
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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And then there's the one about the two cows in a barn. One says to
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the other, "Have you heard the one about the two dogs? One dog says to
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the other, 'Have you heard the one about the two cats? One cat says to
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the other, "Have you heard..."'"
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"Hang on a minute," says the second cow. "This is absurd. Cats can't
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talk!"
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-- jrp et al
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Happy Motoring!
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==============
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by Annie Green Springs
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Submitted by Ann D. Fullam <AFULLAM@INDYMED>
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So why is it that people think that no one watches them while they are
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in their cars? I mean, my whole life revolves around staring at all
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those other folks who are stuck in the same traffic jam that I am in.
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Why do you think you can do all that stuff you wouldn't do unless you
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were alone? Now I know that you don't normally scratch your butt in
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public. But, there you are, almost climbing onto the roof of your car
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trying to scratch that elusive ITCH. And the nose-picking -- it is the
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absolute WORST -- of course, only men do these things. The women are
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all trying to fix the twisted leg of their panty-hose, (you take both
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legs off, then you inch the car forward a little, then you put the
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twisted leg on (repeat 6 times, finally you get rid of the twist) you
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start to put the other leg on, then you inch forward a little more and
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bump the car in front of you. It is now a race to see if you can get
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your hose back on before that guy can walk back there to cuss you out.
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You WILL lose and have to stay in the car the whole time that this idiot
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guy from Redneck Falls, Oklahoma, jumps up and down and yells at you,
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even though you know you would be much more formidable if you were to
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get out of the car. (For one thing you could deck him!!!). Finally,
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after giving him the name of your insurance company and promising him
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your first *TWO* children, he goes away and you can proceed with putting
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the other leg of your hose on. It works -- after only an hour and 20
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minutes of struggle you have successfully twisted the *OTHER* leg of
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your panty hose.)
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And then there is the FARTING. You can tell people are doing this
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because they are rolling their windows down and pretending to try to see
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what is holding up traffic even though it is 200 below zero and a the
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middle of a blizzard. Plus, they look funny when they do it. First,
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they look all around themselves. Then, they fart. Then, they look all
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around again to make sure no one has heard the noise. Come on, 5 bil-
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lion cars, all standing still in a space the size of a 1 car garage,
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honking their horns, and these people are worried that someone MAY HAVE
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HEARD THEM FART. Well, they're right -- we all heard them do it and we
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are all staring at them and we are all going to call their mothers and
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tell on them as soon as we get out of this traffic jam (about 3 hours
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from now, give or take a week).
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Also, there is an awful lot of singing. Everyone sings along with
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the radio. Or maybe they just talk to themselves rhythmically for 2-5
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minutes at a time. Then, when the song finishes, they quickly look
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around to see if anyone noticed. YUP!! I noticed and I will stare at
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you for a while to see if I can make you feel unbelievably DUMB!!! It
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WILL work! You will see me staring. You will hate my guts. You will
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start carrying a 357 magnum to "take care" of people who catch you
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singing in your car in traffic jams.
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What I really like are those guys who go ahead and start up a long
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hill in a snow storm when they know they can't possibly make it. These
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are people who can't move forward in RAIN because they have such slick
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tires. These are people who have never, ever, gone ANYWHERE in snow.
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These are people who have trouble moving forward on FLAT DRY surfaces.
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These are the people who are ALWAYS in front of me in blizzards, and
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they always beat me to that gentle sloping hill that ANYBODY should be
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able to drive up but NOOOOOO, not these people. They were put on the
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earth primarily to get in MY way during snow storms, and, they have it
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down pat!! They start quickly up the hill (spinning their wheels as
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they start off) they move 6 feet up the hill, they roll back down 5 feet
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(they are now at a slight angle), then, they floor the accelerator.
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Stuck again!!! Usually 10 to 12 really BRIGHT folks do this to make us
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all really happy. It seems impossible, but, people who cannot possibly
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drive up a hill in a snow storm always arrive at the hills they can't
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drive up in large groups. This is to insure that people who CAN drive
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up hills in snow storms can't get to the hills in order to drive up
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them.
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Well, the traffic jam just cleared (they towed those guys off the
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hill), so I guess I'd better mosey along.
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Editor's note: In NutWorks Issue017 (April '87) we carried the following
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tip in our Nature column:
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> How to Catch a White Elephant
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> =============================
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> Submitted by Niels Kristian Jensen
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> <C838216 AT NEUVM1>
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>Go to an place where there are white elephants. Bring with you a
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>muffin (with raisins). Climb a tree. When the white elephant is close,
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>drop the muffin (with raisins) in front of it. The white elephant will
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>be happy, and eat the muffin (with raisins). White elephants like
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>muffins (with raisins). Repeat this procedure for five days in a row.
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>After the fifth day, the white elephant will be used to its daily muffin
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>(with rasins). The sixth day you climb the tree, bring with you a
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>muffin without rasins. Drop the muffin as usual. When the white
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>elephant finds out that the muffin lacks rasins, it will darken in
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>anger.
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>And then you catch it the same way as an ordinary grey elephant.
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Editor's note
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Continued: Unfortunatly, we neglected to follow it up with a certain
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additional piece of information. So...
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How to Catch a Grey Elephant
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============================
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by Ron Trenka <SAGAPO@SBCCVM>
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Go to a place where there are grey elephants. Bring with you a box with
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a peanut it it. Climb a tree. When the grey elephant is close, drop the
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box in front of it. The grey elephant, curious as all grey elephants
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are, will open the box and, to his delight, eat the peanut. Repeat this
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for one month.
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After the month is up, the grey elephant will be used to opening the box
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for a peanut. Then you climb the tree, carrying the box with a mouse in
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it instead of the peanut. Drop the box as usual. When the grey elephant
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opens the box, it will see the mouse and turn white with fright.
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And then you catch it the same way you would catch a white elephant.
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Dear Diary
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==========
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by Hugh Cushing <UI.HUGH@CU20B>
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Dear Diary:
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I hate my new job at the Bursar's office. You get in at 10:30 once
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George comes around and unlocks the door, and then there's all these
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papers all over your desk, and you don't know where they came from. So
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you shove them on the floor and try to get to work, and then the stupid
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computer won't work! The girls have this funny toy called a "computer
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smasher" and it's a foam-rubber hammer that you can hit the computer ter-
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minal with, and it's really great, except I wish it was real! So I was
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thinking today maybe trying to hit it with something real, so I used this
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roll of quarters, and it worked for a second. But some wires must have
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got crossed, because the repairman and Mr. Shoeberg came around and they
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both got really mad. So >then<, I get this stupid guy comes up to my
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window and said he didn't get his GLS check, or something. So John, the
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really smart guy next to me who just started, says he doesn't know what
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the LSG check is either. So I asked the guy what it is, and he said the
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government was going to give him $13,000! So I said "Yeah, right," and I
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called security with my little button under my desk, because I'm not paid
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to deal with nut cases. But did that stop Mr. Shooburg from yelling at
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me? Oh, no! And I thought that this was going to be a great job,
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because I was watching the place while I was waiting for my interview to
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get hired, and I saw all these really foxy, rich guys with those CB
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jackets that my brother-in-law is always wearing, and I said "hey, I want
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to work here!" But it turns out they're all such CENSORED! They act
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like I just spit up or something. Plus, they're not so hot, half the
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time they're sucking their stomachs in and they've got zits on their
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forehead that they hide under the hair that they hang down over one eye.
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And I thought that all the money would be neat to play with, but they've
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got MACHINES to count the money with now! It's like Russia, in a way.
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Oh, well, at least my commute's down to three hours. Good night, diary.
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Famous Maker Recipes
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====================
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by Aaron Stern
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Submitted by Hugh Cushing
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Jerry Garcia's Brownies
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-----------------------
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Ingredients:
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1 ounce marijuana
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10 American dollars
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1 1987 BMW
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Procedure:
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1) Get fucked up.
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2) Send a roadie in the BMW to the store to
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buy $10 worth of brownies.
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3) Eat, man!
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Good Samaritans
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===============
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Submitted by Bob Morecock <EPSYNET@UHUPVM1>
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Three young college students are on vacation in Washington, D.C. One day
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they are walking together past the White House when they hear a voice,
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which sounds like that of an elderly man, crying out, "Help, Help."
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Quickly, they respond to the call by leaping over the White House fence,
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and by following the cries, they eventually come upon Ronald Reagan,
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drowning in the White House swimming pool. In an heroic rush, they pull
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him from the pool, then give him artificial respiration, clearly saving
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his life.
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After a few minutes, Reagan says to them, "Well, boys, today you saved
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my life! And I am willing to give each of you any wish you desire, as
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long as it is within my power as President!"
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The first fellow thinks for a few seconds then says, "I have always
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wanted to go to West Point. Can you get me an appointment?"
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"You bet!" said the President, "I'll sign the papers this afternoon!"
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Then the second fellow said, "I've always wanted to go to Annapolis.
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Can you get me in?"
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"You bet I can," said the President. "I'll sign the papers for it this
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afternoon, too."
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After a few moments more, the third fellow said, "I'd like to know,
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can you get me buried in Arlington National Cemetery?"
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Reagan, a bit startled, thought for a second or two, then said, "Sure,
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but tell me, aren't you awfully young to be thinking about such things?"
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"Nope," replied the remaining fellow. "Because when I get home and
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tell my old man what I did today, he's going to kill me!"
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Editor's note: This poem translates to nonsense in French, but read it
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aloud as if it were proper French.
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Un petit D'un petit
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Se donnait vols
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Un Petit D'un petit
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` ,
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A d'un gres vols
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Au de quinze hor seize
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Au de quinze mains
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que dont peut un petit
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^ `
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Tu guettes heure a Cannes.
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-- Ian Murphy <CBWP8008@IRUCCVAX>
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Technician's Corner
|
|
===================
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|
by Steve King <HEINEKEN@MTUS5>
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|
Lately, much of the computer science literature has been devoted to the
|
|
topic of cache memory. While cache memory is certainly a worthy topic,
|
|
there is another advanced memory management technique that I feel is at
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|
least as important to the future of computing. I speak of CREDITTE
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MEMORY.
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|
Let's start with an example. Imagine that you have a computer with
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512K RAM (to make numbers easy) and that you use this computer 12 hours
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|
every day. What happens if you suddenly need to access more than 512K
|
|
for a certain application? Well, if you use normal memory management
|
|
techniques you'd better start shopping for more memory! If you use cre-
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|
ditte memory, on the other hand, obtaining additional memory for short
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|
jobs is no problem.
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|
|
|
The principle behind creditte memory is simple: If you need more
|
|
memory than you have you can borrow it on the assumption that you "will
|
|
have" the extra, eventually. Creditte memory is measured in "kilobyte-
|
|
hours", abbreviated K-hr. In the example above, our 512K byte PC
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|
actually possesses 12288 K-hrs (512K x 24 hrs) of memory each day. In
|
|
simple operation this would be 512K and the computer could be in opera-
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|
tion 24 hours a day. But in practice we're only using the machine 12
|
|
hours each day. That means we can utilize up to 1024K of RAM at any
|
|
time, paying the additional 512K back during the 12 hours we're not using
|
|
the computer. 1024K x 12 hrs = 12288 K-hrs, the same as before.
|
|
|
|
The memory taken "on creditte" need not be paid back the same day.
|
|
Imagine that we need 2M of memory (2048K) for a large spreadsheet. If
|
|
this is done on Friday and we take the weekend off there's no problem.
|
|
Saturday and Sunday will more than pay back the debt to Friday's computa-
|
|
tion!
|
|
|
|
Now imagine that we're going to take a 2 week vacation. That's 16
|
|
days (including the Saturday before we leave and the Sunday after we get
|
|
back) that the computer won't be in use. 16 x 24 x 512K = 196608 K-hrs
|
|
of memory is available to use before we leave! If we decided to use all
|
|
our memory in just one hour Friday night we'd have 192 megabytes to play
|
|
with. The perfect time to back up the hard disk!
|
|
|
|
I'm sure you can see the advantages to creditte memory. As long as
|
|
the computer isn't in 24 hour use, it's easy to get extra memory on cre-
|
|
ditte and pay it off when the computer isn't in use. If you want to use
|
|
creditte memory in your own IBM PC or compatible, go to your nearest com-
|
|
puter store and ask for Entropy Enterprise's new "Creditte Card"
|
|
half-slot expansion board. Available in 512K, 1M, and 2M versions. All
|
|
versions have only an 18% annual percentage rate on long term creditte.
|
|
------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Gnomery
|
|
=======
|
|
Submitted by Ann D. Fullam <AFULLAM@INDYMED>
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|
|
|
Once upon a time, in a land far away, long ago, there lived a group of
|
|
gnomes. These gnomes were very short, grey people with warts on their
|
|
noses and bells on their toes. Surprisingly, there was music playing all
|
|
the time, wherever they appeared. Not so surprisingly, many poems were
|
|
written about the gnomes the most popular of which ended:
|
|
|
|
"Grey gnomes of the Gnome Home, they work in the earth,
|
|
they till and they carry to show what they're worth.
|
|
They've warts on their noses and bells on their toes
|
|
and they shall have music wherever they goes."
|
|
|
|
True, this was not very correct grammatically, but, it served the pur-
|
|
pose of the day.
|
|
|
|
Anyway, one of the gnomes was startled to come upon a bright green
|
|
rock as he dug in his field one day. This rock was harder than any subs-
|
|
tance he had ever seen before and he was sure it was a miraculous
|
|
discovery of a gift from the gods. So, he took it to the gnome council
|
|
and asked what he should do with it.
|
|
|
|
Well, the gnome council was just aghast. They had never seen any-
|
|
thing as wonderful as this green stone. The council decided that the
|
|
gnome who found the stone (whose name was Andy) would be charged with the
|
|
task of carrying the stone to the Kingdom Island and presenting it to the
|
|
King. It would then be up to the king to decide what to do with the
|
|
beautiful green stone.
|
|
|
|
So off went Andy the gnome to the Kingdom Island. After many days and
|
|
many adventures (all too numerous to tell you about right now), Gnome
|
|
Andy presented himself and the beautiful green stone to the King.
|
|
|
|
Well, the King was even more delighted than Gnome Andy and the Gnome
|
|
Council had been. He really wanted the beautiful green stone. Since he
|
|
was a good King he decided that he would give gnome Andy the hand of his
|
|
lovely daughter Joan in marriage if gnome Andy would give him the stone.
|
|
Since the Princess Joan was the most beautiful girl in the entire world,
|
|
gnome Andy quickly accepted the King's proposal. The only other require-
|
|
ment was that Andy and Princess Joan reside on the Kingdom Island so that
|
|
Princess Joan would never be very far from her father.
|
|
|
|
This was a difficult decision for gnome Andy. He went back to his
|
|
home and discussed the choices with his family and friends and the gnome
|
|
council.
|
|
|
|
Eventually, after much soul searching, he decided to accept the King's
|
|
offer and live on the Kingdom Island with his beautiful wife Joan. They
|
|
lived happily ever after and had many children and many adventures. But,
|
|
back at Gnome Home, whenever anyone asked where Andy was, people always
|
|
responded:
|
|
"Gnome Andy is an Islander"
|
|
|
|
(dnalsI na si naM oN)
|
|
------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
Issue021, (Volume VI, Number 1). January, 1988.
|