Date: 15 Oct 93 14:36:36 PDT (Friday)
Subject: Life B.2
The following is from dsc.cuties
Run by: lindsay%dscatl.UUCP@mathcs.emory.edu (Lindsay Cleveland)
(And is forwarded to me by: todd@gwinnett:com [Todd Reese])
----------------------------------------------------
Contributed by: felix!tom
It seems this Czechoslovakian went to the optometrist to have
his eyes checked [Czech-ed :-) this is not part of the joke, sorry].
Anyway, the doctor pointed over at the wall chart and asked him if
he could read the bottom line.
He replied, "Read the bottom line, heck, I know the guy!"
(The following chart does not normally go with the joke, but is added
as an explanation only to non-Czechs, so I don't get flooded with
questions.)
-------------------------
| |
| E |
| |
| C F L N O P R S K H M |
| |
| h l a v a c z e c h |
| |
-------------------------
The man was also disappointed that the optometrist does not
accept checks.
--------------------------
Contributed by: smu!leff
Leff's First Rule of Programming
Don't document the program, program the document
--------------------------
Contributed by: nwuxd!jmb
This is an example of the kind of documentation available with
computers today.
In Apple's Profile Disk Drive Manual "Your Profile Drive is
packed in a cardboard shipping carton. It is covered with
polyethylene and is protected by thick foam material. After
you open the carton, remove the top layer of foam and you
will find a small cardboard box lying on top of the drive.
The box contains this manual."
Taken from InfoWorld, July 16, 1984 by nwuxd!jmb.
--------------------------
Contributed by: burl!egb
SURE CURE
One nice thing about kleptomania----
If you've got it, you can always take something
for it.
--Honey Greer, WSJ
--------------------------
Contributed by: unisoft!alan
Once upon a time there lived a fearsome troll named Og. So
nasty and uncivilized was he that he refused to wear
clothes; he stomped around the village completely nude,
scaring the children and embarrassing the quiet townsfolk.
Down the road from Og's cave was a DEC sales office. It was
only two weeks before the end of DEC's fiscal year, and all
the DEC salespeople were in a panic, for they were far short
of their quota for the year. Especially were they short of
sales for their Unix-based software for VAXen, yclept
"Ultrix;" for most potential customers were suspicious, say-
ing, "That soundeth like a name for a brand of leggings." So
they were desperate to make even one more Ultrix sale.
Suddenly an idea occurred to the youngest DEC salesman in
the office, yclept Harald the Slow. "Why don't we try to
sell a VAX Ultrix system to Og!?," he exclaimed. "After all,
he has much treasure stored in his cave, so we can offer him
an attractive cash discount. And a good all-DEC 780 system
will surely help him with tax accounting for his bridge toll
franchises."
"A wondrous suggestion!" said his supervisor, yclept Arnold
the Superfluous. "Why don't you bring in Og for an Ultrix
demo? I'm sure we can make the sale right on the spot."
So Harald the Slow went up the road to Og's cave, and after
much flattery and persuasion convinced Og to come into the
DEC sales office for a paws-on Ultrix demonstration. All
went well for awhile; Og was familiar with secret passwords
from his dealings with wizards and elves, and he was soon
logged in at a terminal and ready for more.
But soon confusion set in, for though Og was large of body
he was rather small of brain. "Awk?" he said. "Grep?
Nroff?? Mkdir??? This be not software, this be Black Magic,
and you be tools of the Dark Forces." Og stood up in a
rage, and with a swipe of his paw sent the terminal crashing
to the floor. Then, lashing about him with both paws, he
laid waste to the entire office, finally crashing through
the machine room to strike deadly blows at the VAXen therein
before bursting through the wall and stomping off to his
cave.
Harald the Slow and Arnold the Superfluous slowly picked
themselves up from the rubble of their office. Looking at
his underling ruefully, Arnold could only mutter, "We really
should have known better .... after all, everyone knows
that you can't teach a nude Og Ultrix!"
--------------------------
Contributed by: nwuxd!jmb
There's the story of the early surveyors who relied on the
compass to chart the frontier. Although many brands of compasses
were available, the best known was the Tates compass. It was
cheap, so many surveyors bought it. Unfortunately, it was
highly inaccurate. Virtually every surveyor who ventured into
the wilderness using one was never seen again. Thus the saying,
"He who has a Tates is lost."
Stolen from the August 1984 issue of Changing Times by nwuxd!jmb
--------------------------
Contributed by: smu!leff
Student: I understand that a Ph. D. has to embody an original good idea.
Advisor: A Ph. D. must be a new idea; if we also required that it be
a good one, we would only give a quarter of as many Ph. D's.
--------------------------
Contributed by: lanierrnd!tab
This sign is hanging on the wall where I work:
Your Criticism Of Our Products
Reveals An Unsound Technical Background
--------------------------
Contributed by: pucc-h!aeq
I have no idea where this originated, but it is amusing:
Now she speaks rapidly. "Do you know *why* you want to program?"
He shakes his head. He hasn't the faintest idea.
"For the sheer *joy* of programming!" she cries triumphantly.
"The joy of the parent, the artist, the craftsman.
"You take a program, born weak and impotent as a dimly-realized
solution. You nurture the program and guide it down the right
path, building, watching it grow ever stronger. Sometimes you
paint with tiny strokes, a keystroke added here, a keystroke
changed there." She sweeps her arm in a wide arc. "And other
times you savage whole *blocks* of code, ripping out the program's
very *essence*, then beginning anew. But always building, creating,
filling the program with your own personal stamp, your own quirks
and nuances. Watching the program grow stronger, patching it when
it crashes, until finally it can stand alone--proud, powerful,
and perfect. This is the programmer's finest hour!"
Softly at first, then louder, he hears the strains of a Sousa march.
"This ... this is your canvas! your clay! Go forth and create
a masterwork!"
--------------------------
Contributed by: floyd!lda
My wife is sitting on my lap as I type this with my
free hand. She just came out with this verse:
"Man shall not live by bread alone,
He must have plenty of hugs at home!"
I am in full agreement.
--------------------------
Contributed by: rlgvax!oz
Their were these two [ethnics] that won a Ford Country Squire station wagon in
a raffle. It was one of those monstrosities with the fake wood on the sides
that one sees so much in the suburbs. Well, they drove the car home, put it
in their garage and immediately started ripping off the wood siding. They
ripped of the tailgate siding, the front fender siding, and the door sidings.
Finally, they had removed it all, and the first [ethnic] turned to the
second [ethnic] and said: "I don't know about you, but I thought it looked
better before we unpacked it."
I got this one from a literature major no less,
--------------------------
Contributed by: bentley!ran
This is the story of a small backward country which shall be known as
Ethnicaria. It seems that during the late 1960's, and early 1970's, with
the Americans and Russians having such a gung-ho space program, the
ruler of this country became obsessed with leaving a mark in the history
of technology. After sending a team of top engineers and scientists to
investigate the problem, they decided that their country's best contribution
to the world would be to make the largest helicopter in history.
After 18 months of working on the problem, they finally developed a prototype
model for test flying. The day was all set for this historical event, and
the marine corps' ace pilot Lt. E (for Ethnic) was to fly the helicopter.
The press from all over the world was assembled as Lt. E climbed into the
cockpit of the chopper and took off. The engines purred like a pussycat
as the copter effortlessly climbed to 1000 feet and all of the spectators
oohed and aahed. The pilot was given clearance to climb to 2000 feet, and
did so with no problem. He then got clearance to go to 4000, then 8000 feet,
and again, each time, no problem to the great approval of the crowd. Now
came the moment of truth, the helicopter was to climb to 16000 feet, and
set a new altitude record to be taken down in the Guinness book. The crowd
hushed down as the chopper began its ascent and subsequently was lost in the
clouds. Then all of a sudden the crowd gasped as a sputtering noise was
heard, ant the helicopter came crashing down and burst into flames.
Miraculously, the pilot parachuted away, and escaped unharmed. The ruler
of the country who was one of the spectators, ran over to the pilot and
asked, "What happened? Everything was going so well until all of a sudden,
pfftt!" Lt. E looked up at his leader and said in a surprised voice, "Well
it got real cold up there, so all I did was to shut off the big fan."
--------------------------
Contributed by: utcsstat!laura
When my mother was a little girl, an old Irishman, who lived nearby told
this story. He said it was the truth, but you can take this with a grain
of salt...
I was walking past the graveyard one day when I saw some men with a
wagon in the graveyard. I crept closer to see what they were doing.
I discovered, to my horror, that they were digging up a corpse. In those
days, grave robbing was a very serious offense, but medical students had
been known to pay large sums of money for the cadavers that they could not
obtain legally in Ireland -- so some people made a practice of it.
I decided that I should leave, because I was afraid of what they might
do to me if they found me. To my horror, they stopped digging and moved
towards the wagon. There was no place to hide! Quickly I jumped into
the back of the wagon. I crawled into a sack that was lying there, and
made my self very small, and prayed that they would not notice me.
There was a **THUNK** and another sack was tossed on me. From the
stench I knew that the poor unfortunate corpse was beside me! I was
terrified of the corpse, but more terrified of the grave robbers.
I did not say a word, or move, but I began thinking about every Saint
that I could remember, and wishing that I had led a better life.
The wagon pulled off, and began to travel over rough terrain. There
were several large holes in the road. Still I had not been discovered.
Finally, after several good bumps, the driver of the wagon turned to
his friend and said "Now we wouldn't want to lose old Nick, would
we Sean? You had better check and see that he hasn't bounced out!"
The other man turned, and put his hand into the bag I was hiding in and
touched my cheek.
"Holy Mary Mother of God!" he cried. "Patrick -- He's WARM!"
"Yes," I quipped. "And when you've been in Hell for as long as I have,
you'll be warm too!" I croaked.
The men screamed, lept off the wagon, and ran away shooing the horses
ahead of them. After the horses had run on for a while, I kicked out the
body, outside a Church, and hoped that he would be well taken care of.
I took the horses to a town, and sold both them and the wagon. With
the money, I bought a ticket on the boat that left next morning for
Canada. Which is how I ended up here.
--------------------------
Contributed by: abnjh!lute
HOW THE JACK O' LANTERN GOT ITS NAME
(AN IRISH FOLK TALE)
There was once a very old, miserly man named Jack. He was even more miserly
and selfish than Scrooge. No one in the town liked him at all, which just
made him more bitter and miserly.
Well, one day, Jack took a walk out to a nearby woods and proceeded to take a
nap under a tree. Suddenly, Jack awoke to find the devil sitting next to him
smiling evilly. The devil had long been following Jack's selfish and
greedy ways and wanted to make a bargain for Jack's soul. Well, of course
Jack was terrified of this prospect, but you don't get rich by not using your
head, so Jack quickly formed a plan.
Jack told the devil that he couldn't make deals on an empty stomach, so would
the devil please climb the tree and get him a piece of fruit. The Devil agreed
and climbed the tree. Once up in the tree, Jack took out a knife and carved a
cross into the bark of a tree. Now as everyone knows, the devil can't pass over
the sign of the cross, so the devil was stuck up in the tree indefinitely.
The devil was (needless to say) furious with Jack and threatened Jack terribly.
Jack said that HE would offer the devil a deal: If the Devil promised never,
in anyway to try and take Jack's soul, he would scratch out the cross so the
devil could get down. The Devil didn't like this at all, but neither did he
like the prospect of being up a tree indefinitely, so the devil grudgingly
agreed to Jack's terms. So saying, Jack scratched away the cross and let the
devil down. The devil then vanished.
Well, Jack died eventually, and his spirit went to heaven, but upon reaching
the Gates to Heaven, his way was barred by Saint Peter. Saint Peter said
that a man who had led such a narrow and uncharitable life could not be
permitted entrance to Heaven. Jack was shocked, and he begged and pleaded
with Saint Peter to let him in, but still he was denied.
Accepting his fate, Jack turned and proceeded to the only other place that
his soul could go, so he proceeded to Hell. Well, when he got to the Gates of
Hell, the devil was there. When Jack asked admittance, the Devil mockingly
told him that under different circumstances Jack could have entered, but he
reminded Jack of the deal they had made. So sayingly, Jack could not stay in
Hell, either. Jack was had no place to go, and realized with horror that he
must walk the Earth (in purgatory) forever!
Well, since damned souls cannot be abroad during the light of day, they must
walk the Earth at night. So Jack's soul wandered the Earth looking for a
place to rest. Especially on Halloween, which you know is slang for "All
Hallow's Eve", the night all souls of the dead roam the earth.
Well, Jack wanted to light his way on his endless search, so he dug up a
large turnip, cut out holes in it, and he placed a lighted candle inside of
it, making it into a lantern. He then went forth, into the night mists
searching for a place that his soul may rest.
And that is why we call it to this day, a Jack O' Lantern (meaning: the
Lantern of Jack), and why we see it every Halloween.
It is also said that lighting the Jack O' Lantern, and placing it in your
window, helps light the way for all the lost and wandering souls on this
particular night.
Happy Halloween,
Jim Collymore
--------------------------
--
Henry Cate III [cate3@netcom.com]
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