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Electronic Humor Magazine.
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Issue023, (Volume VI, Number III). May, 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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"In the schoolroom more than any other place, does the difference of sex,
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(if there is any), need to be forgotten." -- Susan B. Anthony
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"On the college campus more than any other place, does the act of sex,
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(especially if there isn't any), need to be promoted." -- Anonymous
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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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Nuts & Bolts ................... Commentary
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The AI Notebook ................ Report
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Karl Takes a Fall .............. Story
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Classified ..................... Advert
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The Amazing
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Adventures of Herbert ........ Story
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Philosophers and Food .......... Discussion
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Three Squaws ................... Shaggy Dog
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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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Submissions for NutWorks may be sent to Brent@Maine.BITNET by
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whatever means seem appropriate.
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Corrections: The nonsense-French poem appearing in NutWorks Issue021
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was credited to Ian Murphy. Ian was in fact the submitter of the poem;
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the author is unknown. Also in Issue021 (hey, it was a bad week, ok?),
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the article entitled "The Amazing Adventures of Herbert" was credited to
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"Ishtar", who submitted the article. The author is anonymous. The art-
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icle entitled "Mixology" in NutWorks Issue022 was written by Joe
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<CJM6327@RITVAX> whose name was mistakenly omitted. The NutWorks Staff,
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like, totally regrets these errors.
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-------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Nuts & Bolts
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==============
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by Brent C.J. Britton
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I fully intended to write a column for this issue of NutWorks, but
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lately I haven't even had enough time to worry about the fact that
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between-meal snacks are degrading this nation's youth, let alone write
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columns. It amazes me how some people always seem to have gobs of free
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time on their hands, yet I have to plan bathroom breaks two days in
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advance. Chalk it up to the fact that people are different.
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Take toothbrushing for example. Did you ever notice how some people
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don't drool when they brush their teeth? The particularly gifted can
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stick a loaded toothbrush in their mouths and then proceed to stroll
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casually about the house, change clothes, do some aerobics, phone a
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friend or two, take a nap, bathe, and maybe do some shopping before
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returning -- sans drool -- to rinse. The more, um, frothy among us are
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slaves to our own hygene, destined to remain stationary at the bathroom
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sink wallowing from our noses to our elbows in freely flowing toothpaste
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suds. Just one of life's little oddities, I guess.
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Of course, the differences between people aren't nearly as puzzling
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as the veritable plethora of inconsistencies that are observably
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demonstrated by any given individual person. Take, for example, the guy
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(and most of us know at least one of this ilk) who daily spends hour upon
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painstaking hour washing, drying, waxing, buffing, and vacuuming his car.
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Yet this same guy, who by the light of the moon meticulously removes the
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dead bugs from his grille using Palmolive and Q-tips, somehow fails to
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completely towel off his entire face after shaving in the morning, and
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thus can regularly be seen walking around with small residual gobs of
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drying white foam caked behind his ears. Some people just have odd sets
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of priorities I suppose, or are the tiniest bit absent minded, which is
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certainly fine by me as long as they aren't handling toxic wastes, for
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example, or tactical nuclear weapons in my general vicinity.
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And speaking of priorities, according to my schedule I have a
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bathroom break coming up in a few minutes, so I'd better wrap this up,
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seeing how it seems to have turned into a column after all. Here's
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wishing you a summer free of sunburn and sand fleas, and filled with all
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the fun and excitement you can endure. And watch those between-meal
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snacks!
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-------------------------------------------------------------------------
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The AI Notebook
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===============
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by Johnathan R. Partington <JRP1@UK.AC.CAM.PHX>
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More Triumphs in Artificial Intelligence
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----------------------------------------
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by Charles Cabbage
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I related once how I managed to investigate the fundamental question "How
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many beans make five?" by building intelligence into a tin of beans and
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then asking it. But progress did not stop there.
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A.I. people talk of the "Fifth Generation" -- intelligent machines
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that will be able to reason for themselves, leaving Man's mind free to
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relax and listen to Bach without having to worry about things like Mathe-
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matics, The Weather Forecast and Why the Drinks Machine is Always Broken.
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However most A.I. programs are in fact very stupid. If you ask them to
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count sheep, 50% will produce an integer overflow in less than a minute,
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25% of them will fall asleep, and 25% will involve themselves so deeply
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on the problem that they will begin to think that they themselves are
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sheep, and print the message "BAA". Clearly modern A.I. research is pro-
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ceeding on the wrong lines.
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Being totally unprejudiced in these matters, I tried two new
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approaches.
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The first was to develop a program that would infallibly give irrele-
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vant answers to questions. (This is the basis of Lateral Thinking.) Thus,
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when asked "Do you like blancmange?" my program replied "I think Mozart
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shows a surer grasp of symphonic techniques." Likewise, when asked "What
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is wrong with the job scheduler on this computer?" it replied "It doesn't
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smell as nice as dead mackerel." Unfortunately, owing to a bug in my pro-
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gramming, the program would occasionally act in an intelligent manner: in
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particular it told me that A.I. was a waste of time and that it had
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decided to retire to Sussex and keep bees. It still sends me pots of
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honey occasionally.
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My second approach was to aim for Artificial Wisdom rather than Intel-
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ligence. With the Japanese market in mind, I decided that using Zen might
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be the easiest way of doing this. A sample conversation follows.
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Q: Oh computer, are you able to demonstrate Wisdom?
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A: <Displays a picture of a plastic cup being eaten by an alligator.>
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Q: Er, yes. How many beans make five?
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A: If you say that five beans make five, you deny their reality. But
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nobody would say that six potatoes make five.
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Q: Right on. Tell me, is Fermat's Last Theorem true?
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A: If you answer Yes or No you lose your own Buddha-nature. So how do you
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answer?
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Q: What is the sound of one cat napping?
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A: Mu.
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Q: I see, I see. Will it rain tomorrow?
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However from then on my program refused to talk to me on the grounds that
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I had not yet attained Enlightenment. I reluctantly deleted it.
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-------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Did you hear about the guy who managed to write a CAD program that stored
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each line in two bytes or less?
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He managed to fit an edge in word-wise.
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-- Mike Burden <MWBURDEN@MTUS5.bitnet>
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-------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Karl Takes A Fall
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=================
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(or Why People Have Two Of Everything Except Brains)
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by Q
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PART ONE: Radish Head
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Karl was a nice young man with a radish for a head. This often caused
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a problem for Karl, especially since he liked to frequent bars... "Why,"
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cried the poor man, "why did Yerxa leave me for Ed Asner?"; this he would
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say over and over aloud, although he knew no Yerxa.
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PART TWO: The Sabotage
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The two terrorists swam through the jell-o, each holding their knives
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between their teeth. Gigi, the quiet one, looked to Marybelle to see what
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he would do next... Marybelle, feeling Gigi's intense stare, turned and
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cut her companion's head off. With a meaningful tone, he told the corpse:
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"In jell-o, No one can hear you scream..."
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PART TWO (I Didn't like the last one, so I'm gonna do another): Argentina
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Light dawned on Karl and his guide, a frisky little ferret named Phan-
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tasmagoric O'Malley. Both squinting into the sun, they squinted. Phant
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had noticed that his companion had a radish head, but said nothing, since
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Karl hadn't brought up his ferretness. "Looks like rain," said Karl, and
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promptly vanished. Phantasmagoric squinted a little more, then ate some
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acorns in an unconcerned way.
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THE END: Hades
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Hades, the Greek god of death and indoor plumbing, waved his hand
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fiercely in front of his face. Karl stood meekly in front of him, real-
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izing that farting was not proper etiquette when in the presence of a
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higher power, and he felt ashamed.
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When the smell cleared, Hades looked down. "NO MORE FLATULENCE,
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VEGGIEHEAD!" he sang out in a robust voice reminiscent of a cow in June.
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"NOW- HOW'D YOU LIKE A JOB?". Karl looked up and squinted. "As what,
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your Plutoness?".
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"AS THE BOATMAN ON THE RIVER STYX!!!!", yelled the god, while staring
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at a nearby cat. "KITTY! HERE KITTY!". The cat, who was named Rooooooooo,
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glanced at the Underlord and then calmly walked away.
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"Ummmm..", began Karl. "Ummmmm...", continued Karl.
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"Uhhhhhhhhhhh...umm... Uhhhhhhhhhhhh....", said Karl, who was on a roll.
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"Isn't Charon the boatman?".
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Hades thought for a moment. "Ooops, my mistake!", he said, and waved
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his hand, causing Karl to vanish once more. "SILLY POOFTA", he bellowed,
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then went back to playing Othello.
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PART FOUR (so I lied, and that wasn't the end): The Saloon
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With a grimace, the old man zipped up his fly and jumped. When he hit
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the sidewalk he tried to yell "Free Apples!", but he misjudged his
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velocity and made the attempt much too late. His remains sprayed out-
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wards, covering onlookers for hundreds of yards... none of them hit Karl,
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though, because he isn't even in Part 4: The Saloon. One of those
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onlookers was Trenton D'Retrograde, famous pop star and South American
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dictator. Trenton felt the remains of the man hit him. "Osh kosh,
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b'gosh!" he yelled, and went off in search of Margot Kidder.
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PART SIX: Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick
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Karl carefully examined the egg. Yes, he was in Idaho all right... no
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doubt about it. With a characteristic shrug, he approached the girl. "Hi
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Honey," he said with a grin. She looked at him, smiled, and belched out
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the entire Greek alphabet. "But can you cook a damn fine casserole?" Karl
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asked. "Are you kidding?", the girl replied. "I'm the best left fielder
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on the island!" Noticing that she lived in the mud, Karl wondered if she
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liked cheese as much as he did....
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PROLOGUE: Crackers
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Esmarillia stared at the baby. "It's got a tatoo!", she said to the
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coat rack. The rack stood dead still, seemingly ignoring her. Esmarillia
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glanced at the rack and frowned. "I said, It's got a tatoo." Still, the
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rack stood there, arms outstretched, motionless. "It's of a blender,"
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she said; still, no reaction whatsoever from the object. "Why do you
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always ignore me???!?!?!", she screamed. "You never respond to a word I
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say," she exclaimed, bursting into tears.
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"Well maybe if you weren't such a silly bitch I'd pay attention to
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you!" said the coat rack.
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PART SEVEN: The Truth About Mabel
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Karl thought. He thought some more. Then he turned on the dryer. With
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some satisfaction, he noted that it worked...
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PART EIGHT: Rubles or Dollars?
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"Grendo moxie, haverstad nookums!", cried Comet, as he slid to the
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floor; from his back protruded Marybelle's knife. The assassin stared
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silently at the body, then bent down and removed two tickets to Blott's
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Phantasmagoric Circus out of Comet's wetsuit pocket. With a grin, he
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threw up in anticipation.
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PROLOGUE: Happy!
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The wedding was a joyous one; George McGovern was best man. Karl gazed
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adoringly at his new bride, Rooooooooo the cat; then night fell, and the
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world was at peace.
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WATCH FOR STORY2: The Return of the Two-Dollar Hangover
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-------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Classified Ads
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==============
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SWF, promiscuous, seeks part-time lover for short relationship to make
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old boyfriend jealous. Box 429.
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----------------------------------------
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SWM, promiscuous, seeks part-time lover to make old girlfriend jealous.
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Box 182.
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----------------------------------------
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91 Python files, very funny, 99.9% accurate, seek home with any python ver
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lover who's got the disk space. For a list of available files, write to
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The Virtual Python, c/o CLARINET@YALEVM.BITNET.
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-------------------------------------------------------------------------
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The Amazing Adventures of Herbert
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=================================
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by Anonymous
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Submitted by Ishtar <23480853@WSUVM1.bitnet>
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Episode II:
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Another Victory for Herbert
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---------------------------
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O great Lore Masters of the West, let me tell thee of a fateful tale.
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This tale begins many long years ago, when the trees were still young and
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the Republicans still had control of the Senate. Once there was a Golden
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Racquet ball, and whomsoever possessed this thing had great powers over
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beast and man. This orb was kept in the great capital of Gloob, and its
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master's name was Herbert. The people who dwelt in this fair land were
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happy and did not wont for any material things. But there also did exist
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a fearsome tribe that dwelt far to the East, in the dark land of Shmuck.
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And the Shmucks did lust for the power of the Racquet ball, and so did
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they contrive to take it away from the wise hands of Herbert.
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Unfortunately, it was known to the Shmucks that Herbert had left the
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fair land of Gloob for a quest in the beer-laden town of Moscow. And lo,
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during this time the Shmucks did scale the walls of the hallowed place
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the held the Racquet ball, and they did overwhelm the guards of the
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sacred order of the Racquet ball with a 3x5 glossy of Cal Worthington,
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and they did make off with the booty.
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And lo! The land of Gloob turned to desolate wasteland and the fat
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cattle did wither and die. It was a desperate scene indeed when Herbert
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returned with glory from Moscow. But when Herbert did discover that the
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Golden Racquet ball was pilfered, an army was raised immediately, and
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they did sail off towards the dark capitol of the Shmucks in the East.
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Seven months, fifteen days, four hours, ten minutes and thirty-nine
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seconds was their voyage until they did set foot on the soil of their
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enemy. And when the ships were unloaded and the armies did armor them-
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selves, Herbert did cry with a loud voice: 'Attack the Shmucks, and
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bringeth back the women and the Golden Racquet ball to me!' And so the
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armies of the Gloobs did issue forth and they did lay siege on the cap-
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ital of the Shmucks, which has the foul name, K-Mart. But lo, the
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Shmucks did have control of the Racquet ball, and the Gloobs were slaugh-
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tered by the thousands on the battle plain.... and they did wage war
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upon each other for nine years. And in the tenth year, Herbert did have
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a strange dream, and upon awakening, the Gloobish captain did plot to
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outwit the Shmucks.
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Far away from the high towers of K-Mart did they labour to bring Her-
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bert's plan to reality. For weeks they did choppeth and saweth and
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maketh a general uproar. And finally, the deed was done. In a mist con-
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jured up by Herbert's magician, the Gloobs wheeled their construction up
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to the very front gates of K-Mart, and they did leave it there unat-
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tended. And when the mist cleared, the Shmucks saw the great wonder, and
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they did think it was a gift from the great maker of the Blue-light Spe-
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cials: A great can of SPAM. The Shmucks did take the can within the
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walls of their city, hoping for a feast in the morning, but during the
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dead of night, the can of SPAM did open! And lo! Out came Herbert and
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twenty other great Gloobish warriors! And they did slice throats and
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cause a general disorder and wreak havoc. And so the Racquet ball was
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reclaimed by Herbert, and once again did the Gloobs enjoy prosperity.
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Here endeth the tale.
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-------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Philosophers and Food: A Gustatorial Dialectic
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==============================================
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by Dan Pryor <89DAP@Williams> & Kyle Berman <TCKB000@TCSVM>
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Scenario: Dan and Kyle are discussing the implications of Wittgenstein's
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little known addendum to his equally minor work "Poultry: Being and
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Knowledge," and more importantly, where to go for lunch. Their reknown
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in the philosophical world is surpassed only by their appetites.
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Dan: ...and moreover a peice of evidence that Nietzsche used to justify
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his belief in the non-existence of God was the fact that one can rarely
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find a quality taco counter outside certain towns in Southern California.
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Kyle: Your argument has merit, but I must disagree with you on the latter
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point. If, as Nietzsche points out, God's existence is linked to the
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availability of a good taco, then one should be able to extrapolate from
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this that God's forgiveness of the People of Israel occured not in 1948
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with the founding of the Jewish State, but in the early seventies contig-
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uous with the widespread acceptence of the Taco Bell* chain, which is
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obviously not true. It is a well documented fact that few Taco Bell*
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patrons are divinely inspired.
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Dan: Ah, you are falling into the fallacy of excessive generalization.
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Nietzsche also emphasized the necessity of considering the opposite in a
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duality. Here I would posit that the dichotomy is Mexican versus Chinese
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food, equating the latter with the underworld...
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Kyle: Are you saying then that this applies to all Chinese food, or just
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the joint around the corner?
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Dan: Well, mostly to the FINE RESTAURANT in that location. As I was
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saying, however, Sartre once declared that "Hell is other people." Par-
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aphrasing this, I believe that one could more clearly state that "Hell is
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Chinese food that has been left on a radiator for over a week, particur-
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ally moo goo gai pan and sweet and sour chicken." Although the heartburn
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I got after eating at Nietzsche's favorite taco counter, Uber-tacos,
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wasn't all that pleasant, either.
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Kyle: When one attempts to follow this argument to any sort of conclu-
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sion, however, one can easily see that the logic of this so-called
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"Taco-God" proposition is circular in nature, and thus unprovable and
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worthless (as is Nietzsche following his periodic taco binges). One must
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turn to another source to learn anything useful, for instance, where
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should one have lunch, Cooter Brown's, Mama Rosa's, or one of those
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cheesy Greek places on Decatur Street?
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Dan: Ah, but when discussing the merit of Greek cuisine, one cannot neg-
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lect Aristotle's famous treatise, Gustatoria. In this work can be found
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his famous claim that all food is composed of the four essences, baklava,
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ouzo, feta cheese, and olive oil, as well as lots of cheap red wine, the
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quintessence.
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Kyle: Aristotle was very primitive in this respect. This mixture would
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unfortunately, although very obviously, turn out to be quite watery (not
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unlike the food served at the Akroplis restaurant), thus necessitating
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the cristalline hemispheres that he spoke of. These hemispheres were, of
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course, the ancient Greek equivalent of modern Tupperware*. Now Plato on
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the other hand, advocated the use of the tri-partite chef, the "Short-
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Order-," the "Prep-," and the "Master-Chef..."
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Dan: But did he not also specify that one of these "parts" must be named
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Luigi, and another, Francois?
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Kyle: Yes, but ONLY when the restaurant name appears in cursive Greek;
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otherwise the trio may call themselves anything beginning with the Greek
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letters Rho or Beta. Plato, in fact, first got his name for advocating
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the use of flat communal plates. It was originally "Plate," later
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changed to "Plato," after he introduced the extremely successful "Plate-
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O-Goat" at his small suburban Athenian bistro.
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Dan: Your argument does not, however, include Plato's notion of the
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"Ideal Food." Unimaginable, this "Ideal Food" (which his friends famil-
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iarly shortened to I.F.) would underly everthing cooked, at least in the
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Pelopenesus and some of the shabbier areas of Crete. This, to me, seems
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to parallel very closely the "Beef Wellington," although this latter food
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was very difficult to find in the fancier Athenian restaurants. The
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"Beef Wellington" is, even after numerous explanations and a friend who
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choked on a serving of it, impossible for me to visualize corporeally.
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Kyle: I concur most heartily, and apologise for the oversight. Yet, I
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feel as though I once had a more complete view of Plato's I.F. (although
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his family has guarded the recipe closely for many centuries); his own
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theories, however, state that the rigors of the flesh make one forget
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such important matters. In my case I have had ample such rigors, mostly
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Steak Tartar at Arnaud's, a fine establishment if I may say so, one that
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is more than adequate for our noontime repast.
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Dan: In his book "Le Etranger Gros," Camus wrote several lines which are
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|
appropriate to the subject at hand: "Je veux manger. Donne moi quelque
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chose a manger ou je te tuerai," which translates roughly as "I want to
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eat. Give me something to eat or I will kill you."
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Kyle: Of course, this was meant in a purely complimentary manner. Our
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|
present predicament, then, can be summarized as "how shall we get to some
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|
food" or let Mohammed go wherever he pleases. I have read in the Qu'ran
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|
that he was particularly fond of pepperoni and onion pizza. Shall we,
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|
then, make Godfather's our destination?
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Dan: As Hobbes once said in a fit of despondency, "hmm, sounds good to
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me."
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Our erstwhile philosophers have departed, with great relish, and some
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mustard on the side. They are later arrested for quoting Marx in a vain
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|
attempt to avoid payment of the $9.35 check.
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-------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Three Squaws
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============
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Three squaws were each preparing for the birth of their first child. The
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first squaw placed a large bear hide by a river, the second squaw placed
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an elk hide by a tree by a river, and the third squaw placed a
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|
hippopotamus hide by a path, near the river and the tree so that the
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three formed a triangle.
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It just so happens that all three women gave birth on the same day.
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The first squaw on the bear hide had a 5-lb son, the second squaw on the
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elk hide had a 6-lb son, and the third squaw on the hippopotamus hide had
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an 11-lb son.
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To this day, mathematicians credit these three women with the first
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|
proof of the Pythagorean Theorem:
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"The son of the squaw of the hippopotamus is equal to the sons
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of the squaws of the two adjacent hides."
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-------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Issue023, (Volume VI, Number III). May, 1988.
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