*
* Archive:  UREAL05.NEW
*
* Created on:  Tue Aug  3 15:24:41 1999
*
* Number of articles:  25
*
* Welcome!  This is one of the files that goes to make up the archives of
* Project Galactic Guide.  To find out what the heck PGG is, go look at its
* main Web site at <http://www.megadodo.com>, where you'll be able to find
* an FAQ.
*

*
* The articles in this file are:
*
*   2U90-1  Fuzzy Logic, An Introductory Tutorial
*   6U9-1   Walla
*   2U91-1  Tunneling Theory Of Sock Disappearance
*   8U1-1   Infinity, The Trouble With
*   8U2-1   Uhl's Theory Of Advanced Computronics
*   8U3-1   Magazines
*   7U1-1   White Aryan Resistance
*   8U4-1   Merits Of Beating Your Head Against The Wall, The
*   8U5-1   Laundromathics
*   8U6-1   Towel, What To Do If You Lose Yours
*   8U7-1   Waterskiing, Zen And The Art Of
*   2U92-1  Active Air
*   8U8-1   Americanitus
*   2U93-1  Grues
*   2U94-1  Zork
*   2U95-1  Spawn
*   2U96-1  Malebolgia
*   6U10-1  Death, Flirting And
*   8U9-1   Oregon, USA, Earth
*   8U10-1  Useful Phrases For The Intergalactic Tourist
*   8U11-1  Plutoniad, The
*   8U12-1  Professions:  Balloon Animal Sculptor
*   6U11-1  Monkeys, Barrel Of
*   6U12-1  Amber Lights, Life Has None
*   8U13-1  Fossilised Hamburger Of St Albert, The
*


%t Fuzzy Logic, An Introductory Tutorial
%n 2U90
%s A Tutorial On Fuzzy Logic
%a John De Ryckere  (jderyck@engn.uwindsor.ca)
%d 19950810
%e
In recent times much has been heard about a rather counter-intuitive form of
logic called fuzzy logic.  To the layperson the advantages of this indecisive
logic variant may not be apparent or indeed plausible.  This article however
is intended to educate and inform the reader of this fine Guide.

To start with, most of us are already familiar with fuzzy logic and have
likely even relied on it in the past.  Consider a probably all-too-familiar
phenomena: You're in a bar consuming copious quantities of your favourite
inebriating substance.  After a short time of heavy drinking your brain, now
operating in fuzzy logic mode thanks to the solvent you've pumped through its
blood system, tells you to make a move on that sexy man/woman/hermaphrodite
dancing by the record machine.  You are, after all, extremely beautiful/
handsome/differently gendered and have a high paying job with excellent
advancement potential doing the dishes at the local greasy spoon.

Confidently you push up/suck in/tuck in your sagging breasts/beer gut/extra
reproductive organs and walk up to the beckoning adonis/siren/androgynous
deity and are quickly shot down.  With an almost stupefying speed your brain
selects a new target.  You're a bit less sure of yourself, more horny, and
so the appearance constraint is relaxed a bit.  After several rounds of this
you finally make your way out of the bar with your conquest in tow behind
you.  Of course when you wake up in the morning, time will have caused your
brain to revert to boring old standard logic.  It's then that you'll decide
that you'd rather gnaw your arm off rather than face the embarrassment of
talking to the beast which you dragged home the night before.

For those who wish to perform some experimentation with fuzzy logic here is
a list of apparatus and an experimental procedure to follow:

Apparatus
---------

          1) One human (yourself will do)

          2) Enough inebriating substances to thoroughly saturate the
             bloodstream of item number 1.  The substances should be
             separated into small quantities.

          3) One bar (item number 2 may be acquired there)

          4) One camera (automatic focus may become a desirable feature as
             the experiment progresses) that will produce instant photos.

          5) One pen or pencil for marking.

Procedure
---------

          1) Place the human (item 1) into the bar (item 3).

          2) Carefully empty several quantities of item 2 into the human
             (item 1).  The blood stream needs a good alcohol-rich starter
             mixture.

          3) Select a potential amorous partner for the evening, after you
             "strike out"  use the camera (item 4) to get a picture of
             her/him/it and label it with the number 1.

          4) Repeat step 2 and 3 until success, labeling each photograph
             with 2, 3, 4...

          5) Compare the first photograph to that of the woman/man/other
             that you woke up with.  Contrast the photograph with your
             actual partner; how have the parameters for a desirable sexual
             partner varied over the course of the night?
%e
*EOA*


%t Walla
%n 6U9
%s An Animal Called When Something's Presented
%a Crissman Loomis  (JAF05475@niftyserve.or.jp)
* Found in alt.humor.best-of-usenet (originally in alt.shenenigans)
* by Roel van der Meulen  (vdmeulen@strw.leidenuniv.nl)
%d 19950606
%x Australia, Earth
%e
Nowadays, when someone finishes a task or when someone explains something,
quite often you can hear them say "Walla!!" at the end.  Few people still
know what exactly it means.  The explanation is actually quite simple.

A walla is an animal, a relative of the kangaroo.  When scientists first
discovered the walla, they decided for some unknown reason to categorize
them by letters.  The walla-B is a very cute species of walla found in
Australia.  The walla-Q is rather smaller and more rabbit like, and it has
a tendency to hide in black stove-pipe hats.  Back in the days when people
wore such hats, most people couldn't distinguish between the various
wallas, so when they found a walla-Q in a hat, they would just shout
"Walla!" and get rid of the little bugger as fast as possible. 
%e
*EOA*


%t Tunneling Theory Of Sock Disappearance
%n 2U91
%s The Truth Behind The Mystery
%a Jonathan David Harmon  (jharmon@mtu.edu)
%d 19950413
%x Harmon, Jonathan David
%i Tunneling Sock Drive, The
%e
Tunneling is a far-out, isn't-physics-neat sort of theory which states
that, because matter is just plain weird, it's possible for matter in one
part of the universe to instantaneously transport to another part of the
universe.  This was worked out mathematically based on such fun things as
Einstein's Theory of Relativity, Wave Theory, and a six pack of beer.

It was originally believed that this theory was one of those unobservable
things that physicists could say they'd absolutely proven when their
research money ran out.  "Didn't you see that electron go?" they could ask.

Recently, however, it was theorized that perhaps this effect is observed
every day.  Everyone knows that it is highly improbable, if not impossible,
to get the same number of socks out of a dryer as were put in.  This
problem was basically ignored by the physics world, as they believed that
the dryers simply ate the missing socks.  Recent evidence suggests, though,
that Tunneling is actually to blame.

Why Tunneling occurs so often with socks has not yet been explained.
Initial data, however, suggests that it is most likely due to the unique
static to mass ratio of the socks.

This has stimulated physicists into a frenzy of activity.  Amongst the many
implications of this was an idea, suggested by an undergraduate student at
Michigan Technological University but immediately credited to his physics
professor, that this tunneling could somehow be harnessed.  Engineers and
physicists at MTU are currently working on a vehicle to utilize this
phenomenon.  Construction has begun on a giant dryer, and cotton has been
shipped in for the creation of the pair of socks.  The problem of
discovering which sock of a pair will tunnel has not yet been solved.

These events are being watched with wide eyes by hitchhikers world wide.
Such a device would make leaving the planet, and even leaving the galaxy,
extremely simple.  The probability of survival, however, is currently very
low.  The MTU research team urges any volunteers willing to test this
probability to write them care of Jon Harmon at jharmon@mtu.edu.
%e
*EOA*


%t Infinity, The Trouble With
%n 8U1
%s Numbers -- The Bigger They Are, The Harder We Fall
%a Gregory C. Wait, aka Xang Woopy 101010  (zooey@ipass.net)
%d 19950718
%x Infinity
%x i
* %k Number
%e
Infinity is a wholly remarkable concept, being so mind-bogglingly huge
that it is virtually impervious to the effects of standard mathematics.
Infinity also has the singular distinction of causing more trouble than
any other number in the whole of existence.  (The number `i' comes in a
close second, and will be discussed in a later article, which will be
appropriately classified as `unreal'.)  How infinity causes so much
trouble will be illustrated shortly.  First let's sort out the math.

While researchers in the oxygen-deficient realms of higher mathematics
assert that infinity can be coaxed to have an interesting effect on other
numbers, it stoicly refuses to let other numbers have any effect upon
itself.  Dar Beton, the famous Theoretical Theorist and haberdasher of
Oonoogle III, theorized that other numbers simply choose not to interact
with infinity because they think it a bit of a snob.  This is not one of
the theories for which he is well known, although it does seem to account
for the strange way in which infinity almost, but not quite completely
refuses to interact with others.

For example...  add any other number to infinity and you get infinity.
Subtract any other number from infinity and you also get infinity.
Multiplying or dividing infinity by any other number proves equally
pointless.  Infinity is, on the whole, rather hard to pin down, and doesn't
give a tinker's cuss about your mathematical expectations.  It is hard to
measure, mostly useless, and defies easy definition.  Attempts to define
infinity usually go something like this:

Infinity is:

          * the mid-point of the reproductive cycle of the zero.
 
          * what you get when you add one to the absolutely biggest number
            possible.

          * what you get when you add one to that.

          * what you get when an eight loses its footing.

And so on.

The only being actually claiming to really know what infinity is, also
uses it as his home address, and so no one believes a word of it.  Truth
is, the notion of a magnitude just slightly beyond the highest
conceivable magnitude is by definition just slightly beyond the
conceptual abilities of most species in the Universe.  And this is where
infinity causes trouble.

For illustration, let us use the historical example of a small,
blue-green planet inhabited by some rather curious ape-descended
life-forms.  The inhabitants of our subject world had evolved
intellectually to the point where they had a word for the concept of
infinity, but they still had no idea what it actually was.  Because of
this they tended to confuse any really big number with infinity.

          They looked at the water, the soil, the air of their beautiful 
          planet and said, "Here are unfillable resources into which we may
          throw our endless supply of waste without ever sullying them."
          (Infinity plus any other number equals infinity.)

          They looked at the vast and wonderful profusion of life in the 
          sea and the huge forests filled with trees and said, "Here is
          a limitless bounty from which we may harvest forever without 
          restraint."  (Infinity minus any other number equals infinity.)

          They looked at their own population and said, "We will be 
          fruitful and multiply without ceasing, for there will always be 
          enough resources for everyone."  (Infinity multiplied by any
          other number equals infinity.)

          They looked at the wondrous diversity of animal and plant life 
          with which they shared their planet and said, "We can destroy any
          fraction of these with impunity, for the whole is so great that 
          it cannot be diminished."  (Infinity divided by any other number 
          equals infinity.)

After many thousands of years of evolution one or two of the ape-descended
life-forms began to say that maybe they had it wrong.  Maybe infinity is
not equal to any really big number, and maybe any really big number that 
is not equal to infinity can be effected by any other number if that other
number is allowed to get big enough.

Of course this was only said by a very small number of the ape-descended
life-forms, and since there were an awful lot of them in general, the
opinion of such a small group was of no consequence.  (Any other number
divided by infinity equals zero.)  So, nobody paid any attention to them.

Anyone interested in studying this phenomenon more closely may want to
hitch a ride to Earth as soon as possible.  Contrary to popular opinion
there, this can't go on forever.
%e
*EOA*


%t Uhl's Theory Of Advanced Computronics
%n 8U2
%s The Origin And Use Of Computrons
%a Robert Andrew Uhl  (ruhl@du.edu)
%d 19950926
%i Computrons
%i Errons
%e
Many of you are probably familiar with Basic Computronics.  For those who 
are not, I shall explain the general theory up to this point in time.
I have made some discoveries which modify it a slight amount.

Computrons are subatomic particles of indeterminate size whose sole purpose 
is the enabling and facilitating of calculations.  They are used by both man
and computer, and seem to linger.  This explains why a computer or idea
works fine in the factory or university but fails miserably in real life 
use.  The factory or university has plenty of computrons while the typical
home, office, or other area generally lacks these most vital of all
particles.

But whence come computrons?  Where do they go?  Through a series of
extensive experiments, tests and refinings, I believe that I have
the answer.  This answer is my theory of Advanced Computronics.

I have found that computrons are generated by neurons and by logic circuits 
at rest, and by the reaction of certain organic cells with oxygen.  When a 
neuron fires or a logic circuit changes state, a computron is destroyed.  
Computrons are also destroyed by bright sunlight, which is why many hackers 
prefer hacking indoors and at night.  This may also explain the foolishness 
of beach bums.  Further experimentation is obviously needed.

There is yet a third way for a computron to be destroyed: in a reaction with
an erron.  Errons are produced _only_ when a computron is used, not when it 
is exposed to bright sunlight or reacts with an erron.  Errons are destroyed
in their reactions with computrons, since the two particles are exact 
opposites.  When an erron is used instead of a computron, errors occur.  
There is a 21.5781% chance of erron production when a computron is used.  
It appears that this chance may be altered by as yet undiscovered factors 
which further research should reveal.

In normal situations, the erron level is kept near 0 and the computron level
is steady (leading to the illusion that computrons are not destroyed when 
used).  Several factors can interrupt this happy situation and may cause 
problems.

First of all, a lack of computrons, such as is found in a modern home or 
office, can lead to an increase in errons.  When this happens, small errors 
occur.  Unlike computrons, errons multiply when used; 3 of every 17 errors 
produce errons.  This explains the common unrelated errors to be found when 
one thing goes wrong.

Second, an increase in errons can cause a chain reaction in which the
computron level plummets and errors abound.  This often occurs when an
erron-heavy source, such as a foolish individual, strays too near to a
calculating man or machine.  The errons start destroying computrons, which 
may result in natural errors, which have a 3 in 17 chance of creating 
errons, which destroy more computrons et cetera.  It is a dangerous spiral.

But there are good effects which sometimes happen.  Due to the oxygen-cell 
reaction, computrons abound in greenhouses and in old forests.  Much 
inspiration and thought can occur in these places.  Unfortunately, due to 
the tendency of computrons to float away and through anything (except 
certain organic materials), no known setting can provide a 100% computron 
atmosphere.

Lastly, when a computer or man is near a computron intensive source, such as
a computer factory or university, it or he will be able to perform amazing 
feats of calculation.

Computrons are very important particles; without them we would be able to 
do naught but sit around stupidly.  It is of the utmost importance that 
research be done into computron storage, dispensing and measurement so that 
we and our computers will always do our best.
%e
*EOA*


%t Magazines
%n 8U3 
%s The Mating Habits Of Magazines In Snarkefellian Studys
%a Ian Dean  (icdea1@giaeb.cc.monash.edu.au)
%d 19950616
%x Mating Habits Of The McBain Initial
%e
The mating habits of magazines in the confines of the average snarkefellian
study.

Magazines like proximity to each other so that they can lose themselves
right when you are looking for them.  In Snarkefellia magazines reproduce
by combining advertisements through the generations, while looking 
externally similar as one or the other of their parents.  This makes life
very difficult for the average snarkefellian, as they can never find that 
ad for that computer they were looking at just last month.  It also means
that any useful information is progressively lost from generation to 
generation, forcing the snarkefellians to learn things all over again over
time.  This has been likened to following certain products, such as word
processors, where they change sufficiently from one release to the next
so that you have to relearn everything again.

Snarkefellian intelligence is thus not very advanced, and quick learning is 
very well considered.  The average snarkefellian dinner party consists of
digging through back issues of magazines in studys looking for articles 
which were seen just last month.  Snarkefellian magazine's reproductive
habits will be the subject of other articles, suffice to say we thought 
Earth Humans were strange!  The location of the study of a snarkefellian is 
always some distance from the house due to the noise of the abovementioned
mating habits.  Male snarkefellian magazines (those in the male mode, i.e.
electronics, construction and bricklaying magazines etc.) attract the 
females of their species via the rustling and fanning of their pages.
Female magazines reciprocate the interest by sliding over and falling on
top of their preferred partner (female mode magazines include dressmaking,
fashion and other similarly useless wastes of good matter), smothering them
in the snarkefellian magazine way, and then proceed to procreate.

After the birth of their children (in small removable booklet form) they 
proceed to fill as much space as possible until they are packaged and 
returned for recycling, therefore living another day and adding more 
matter to the waste piles.
%e
*EOA*


%t White Aryan Resistance
%n 7U1
%s What Is It? 
%a Bill Stuart  (ah787@FreeNet.Carleton.CA)
* Found in alt.humor.best-of-usenet (originally in can.politics,
* alt.skinheads, alt.politics.white-power) by
* Roel van der Meulen  (vdmeulen@strw.leidenuniv.nl)
%d 19950112
%e
White Aryan resistance is the amount of resistance that a white Aryan
displays when a current is passed through his or her body.  This is usually
measured in Ohms, as it is with standard resistors.  Since each white Aryan
has a different resistance potential, it is advisable to start a program to
identify white Aryans and test their resistance potential with high voltage
low amp cables and an Ohmmeter.

Each white Aryan will then be painted with a series of color bars,
indicating their resistance capability, as with standard resistors. This
color bar code should be displayed prominently on the forehead to avoid
confusion.

A detailed analysis of white Aryan resistance values will soon be released.
The data gathered thus far will accompany a proposal for "White power
plants" to be opened as soon as possible.
%e
*EOA*


%t Merits Of Beating Your Head Against The Wall, The
%n 8U4
%s A Quick, Easy Way To A High IQ
%a Bysshe Murphy  (JMurphy42@aol.com)
%d 19950724
%x Alcohol Guilt In Students
* %k Brain
* %k Intelligence
* %k Headbangers
%e
It's a well-known scientific fact that for every brain cell you kill, two 
will grow back in its place [1].  However, very few people realize the 
significance of this.  It is a useful tool for Hitchhikers, for several 
reasons.  The first, most obvious reason, is increased mental power.  Just 
think the kind of scientific [2] breakthroughs you'll make with the boost
in mental facility.  Second, the fact in itself is a wonderful topic for 
cocktail party conversation [3].  Lastly, free concert tickets.  It's true.
All touring bands have a minimum number of headbangers for the first few 
rows.  Everybody benefits - the headbangers get into concerts free, and
the band has the insurance that nobody close to the stage is even remotely
intelligent enough to climb onto it.

There are several easy ways to put this effect into practice, but the 
easiest and most common is suggested by the title: impact between one's 
cranial spaces and a brick partition [4].  This achieves several things.  
The obvious massacre of brain cells is but one.  If you do this often 
enough, as many of this method's die-hard (no pun intended) practitioners 
are known to do, then you achieve that wonderful flat-forehead effect that 
the Mayans so loved.  Not to mention that a high forehead is a typical sign 
of high intelligence.  It's true!  The astrophysicists will just FLOCK to 
you.  

But let's not forget the other, more intrinsic benefits to this practice!  
After all, remember those two new brain cells - after long enough, those 
really add up!  Just imagine yourself sitting around, pondering the majesty 
of creation.  No, this is *after* the process is complete, not in the dope 
breaks in between sessions of head-beating.  Particle physics could be 
within YOUR grasp.

But what's this?  You say beating your head against walls is too much 
physical exertion?  Not a problem!  Your average alcoholic beverage kills 
off plenty of brain cells by itself!  So, spite your high school health 
teacher.  Drink your way to a high IQ.  Pummel your way to one.  Or, if 
you're *really* desperate, sit in a lecture hall for an hour, particularly 
for a particle physics lecture.  A little while of that will have much the
same effect [5].

So what are you waiting for?  Go to it!

[1] Please do not really believe this.  If you DO believe it, then by all 
    means, follow my advice to the letter.
[2] Not to mention masonic.
[3] Particularly if you enjoy a good laugh.  And can take one.
[4] Translation: Beating your head against the wall.  This is just one of 
    the many boons of this intelligence-uh, altering program.
[5] Brain cell-wise, anyhow.  The IQ part is still being researched.
%e
*EOA*


%t Laundromathics
%n 8U5
%s A Guide To Clean Clothing, And Why It's So Rare
%a Kirrily Brooke Robert  (kirrily@ozonline.com.au)
%d 19950920
* %k Laundry
* %k Clothing
* %k Physics
* %k Schroedinger's Cat
%e
Anyone who has moved out of home and no longer has parents to clean their
clothes will most likely be mystified by the bizarre phenomenon that is... 
LAUNDRY.

Now, once and for all, we here at PGG enterprises attempt to clarify some of
the weirdness that occurs between the time that your clothes hit the floor 
in a dirty heap, and the time that they return clean and freshly ironed to 
your cupboard, drawers, or (in my case at least) back to the floor.

Scientific observation, and lack of sleep, enabled our intrepid researchers 
to determine the following universal laws of laundry:

THE FIRST LAW OF LAUNDRY:
There is always one odd sock.  Sometimes the laundry will eat one of your 
socks; sometimes it will regurgitate one that once belonged to some other 
poor laundry victim.  This is an application of L-Space (Laundry-space, 
not Library-space as certain fantasy/humour authors would have it) -- all laundries, everywhere in the universe, are connected on a fundamental 
level by wormholes in the fabric of L-Space.  Socks travel through these 
wormholes, and if you have any doubt that socks are capable of travelling 
under their own steam you obviously do your laundry far too often.

THE SECOND LAW OF LAUNDRY:
Colour only travels in one direction.  The colour in a bright red pair of 
socks will happily travel into your white shirts, but the same dye will not
budge from the white shirt no matter what you do.  A corollary of this law 
is that colour travels at a speed directly proportional to it's density, 
where density is not only calculated according to the number of dye
molecules per unit of volume, but in fact by the formula 

             n p
            -----
              v

where n is the number of dye molecules, v is the volume, and p is a number 
representing how putrid the colour is.  This is why red clothing runs more 
often than blue.

THE THIRD LAW OF LAUNDRY:
The likelihood that your laundry will be done is inversely proportional to 
the *square* of the urgency with which you need the clothing.

After much thought, our researchers further surmised that a laundry is, in 
fact, a perfect example of Schroedinger's famous thought-experiment with a 
cat.  The experiment, intended to show the nature of quantum probability, 
originally involved a cat which was neither alive nor dead, but existed in 
an indeterminate state until the box was opened.  Similarly, ones laundry 
exists in a state of quantum improbability, where one cannot tell whether
ones laundry will be finished until one opens the machine.

Purists will note that Schroedinger's cat only worked because the
probability of it being in either state was exactly 50/50.  However, there 
is no good way to tell exactly what the probability of your laundry being 
done *is* -- this conforms to Heisenberg's uncertainty principle of Laundry,
whereby you cannot tell what state your laundry is in without affecting that
state.  We all know that opening the machine during a cycle will stop the 
cycle and make it impossible to observe both where the laundry is and where 
it is going at the same time.  So to all extents and purposes the
probabilities may as well be even, and we can assume that they just damn 
well are, all right?

Advanced students may be wondering at this point whether there is any point 
in doing laundry at all.  We can only recommend that you leave it to the 
experts (you know, that one in the apron who was always around the place
before you moved out of home), or just keep buying more clothes.
%e
*EOA*


%t Towel, What To Do If You Lose Yours
%n 8U6
%s When Your Terry Tarries, And You've Moved On
%a Gregory C. Wait, aka Xang Woopy 101010  (zooey@ipass.net)
%d 19950620
%x Towel, Chris Tann's 
%x Travel Necessities
%x Field Researchers, How To Recognize
%i Panic, When To
%e
A towel, as has been stated before, is the single most important article a
hitchhiker can carry.  They are relatively inexpensive, portable, and
rarely blow up unexpectedly.  No self-respecting hitchhiker would be caught
dead without his or her towel, though many not-so self-respecting
hitchhikers often are.

Say, for example, you're galloping along the shores of Mid Lumbar Lagoon
on Gergbool, soaking up the gentle green rays of the twin Gergbool suns,
exhilarating in the feel of the lean Boogabeast leaping beneath your
boogasaddle, blinking away the warm, sticky-sweet sea foam, smiling at the
thought of the gentle, gifted, and government-subsidized Gergboolian whores
who await you back in Gergbool Prime.  Life is good.  You feel like the
hoopiest frood to ever slap steel with a face-flannel.  You reach for your
trusty towel to wipe the warm blue sea foam from your brow, and you can't
find it.  Anywhere.

Listen carefully while I say it again, "YOU CAN'T FIND IT."  Your T-O-W-E-L.
A-N-Y-W-H-E-R-E.  What do you do?

Panic.

That's right, you heard me.  Capital P-A-N-I-C.  There's nothing else to do,
really, and here's why.  Since the very reason for knowing where your towel
is involves the supposition that if you can actually keep track of your
towel no matter what then you must have the situation, whatever the
situation may be, under control, it is only logical to assume that if you
can't find your towel things are going very, very badly for you.  You are
either already, or about to become, one very unhoopy frood.  You are most
likely going to die.

You can pretty much throw the guide away at this point.  Nothing in it, not
even the cover, can help you now.  Even this article is only supplied to try
to take your mind off of what is no doubt going to be a very unpleasant time
in your life, which I suppose it is not doing a very good job of.  But hey,
the guide is about information.  This isn't a hand-holding service.  
%e
*EOA*


%t Waterskiing, Zen And The Art Of
%n 8U7
%s How To Throw Yourself At A Lake, And Miss
%a Gregory C. Wait, aka Xang Woopy 101010  (zooey@ipass.net)
%d 19950620
%x Means Of Transportation For The Earth-Confined Hitchhiker
%x Black Holes
%x Afterlife, The
%e
The universe is a really, mind-bogglingly huge place.  Much of it is made up
of vast tracts of space, and most of it is empty.  It is therefor surprising
to learn how much of it is water.  Water exists in one form or another in
almost every system in the Galaxy.  One exception to this is the planet
Flimwiggle, where a fairly short-sited ruler outlawed all fluids of any
kind, complaining that he didn't like their attitude.

The Flimwiggians, being a somewhat dim-witted, but tremendously loyal and
industrious people set out to do their leader's bidding.  They pumped water
into huge, fortified bunkers miles beneath the surface of Flimwiggle,
destroying the drilling equipment afterwards.  They filled huge tanker-ships
with the stuff, firing them into Flimwiggle's mauvy sun.  They even filled
byros with water, then left them lying around in the bottoms of drawers
until they disappeared, as byros do.  And when the last droplet of moisture
had been dutifully sponged off the surface of their once lush, green
planet, the dim-witted, but tremendously loyal and industrious Flimwiggians
died of dehydration, every last dim-witted, but tremendously loyal and 
industrious one of them.

And so they never learned to waterski.

Waterskiing, even by Galactic terms, is one of the more unusual things one
can do when presented with a sufficiently large and flat body of water, and
there are so many other things one could do.  Many beings drink the stuff,
some live in it, and a surprisingly small number bathe in it.  Fewer still
look at the calm surface of a lake, river, ocean, or bathtub and think,
"I'll just strap a couple of boards to my feet and skid across the surface
at tremendous speed."  So few, in fact, that when compared with the
population of the Universe as a whole, the number of beings who do anything
remotely resembling waterskiing approaches zero, quietly, from the left.

Waterskiing originated not on Earth, as many believe, but was invented by a
plank-like race called the Frajoom, for whom it was less a recreational
activity than a religious experience.  The Frajoom believe that their God
lives within a nearby black hole, and strap bipedal beings to their backs in
sacrifice as they race across the surface of the hole's event horizon,
presumably into the waiting arms of their creator.  Unfortunately, due to
the immense gravitational forces they experience there, the Frajoomy
pilgrims are then crushed into tiny screaming nothings by the loving arms of
their God.  It is interesting to note that while a much larger number of
people survive the experience of waterskiing on Earth, they seem to scream
almost as much.

Another common misconception about waterskiing is that you need a boat.
While a boat can come in handy for transporting such things as gear, food,
and witnesses, it is not actually necessary in the way that most people
think.  Much like flying, waterskiing comes down to a simple matter of
misdirecting ones attention away from the fact that you are doing
something, if not impossible, then at least very improbable.  Lacking an 
improbability generator, the only way to do this is to not notice that you 
are doing it.  This is where a boat can be useful.

As many people who have quite naturally and understandably failed to succeed
at waterskiing will tell you, the boat merely drags the skier through the
water, and does nothing whatsoever to lift the skier out of, and up onto,
it.  The inability of certain individuals to waterski is not due to any lack
of talent, but is in fact due to the person's above average powers of
concentration.  These people concentrate so hard on what they are trying to
do that they can't help but notice that it is mind-bogglingly unlikely that
any such thing is going to happen.

Rather than supplying impetus, the boat serves mostly as an added
distraction, so that at the exact moment that the skier knows he needs to be
thinking about bending his knees, leaning back, relaxing his teeth, or
pleading with his gods for assistance, he is instead thinking something
like, "Did Brad just open the last beer?"  It is at this crucial moment of
distraction that he completely fails to sink like a stone, and instead finds
himself shooting across the surface of the lake like a dart, tethered to a
speeding boat.

The rope with which he is tethered does not actually serve to pull him,
either.  It merely ensures that he stays within a reasonable distance of the
boat, so that he will hopefully continue to be distracted by it.  While
other sources of distraction can be effective, a boat is so consistently
successful that most waterskiers bring one along as a matter of course.

No one ever falls while waterskiing.  What many do in fact experience is a
sudden and unfortunate reawakening of the logic centers of their brain.
Just as they are scooting along defying all the laws of physics they know,
and several they've never heard of, it suddenly occurs to them that what
they are doing can't possibly be happening.  The laws of physics immediately
awaken, yawn, and toss them in the drink for putting one over on them in the
first place.

Barefooting is another case altogether.  Barefooters are insane.  They need
no distraction, having never believed in the laws of physics in the first
place.  The barefooter uses a boat not for distraction, but because he has
to have an audience, being convinced that without an audience he ceases to
be.  Barefooters tend to be loud, obnoxious, nasty folk, and often holiday
as European football fans.
%e 
*EOA*


%t Active Air
%n 2U92
%s Space Travellers' Air Safety Methods
%a Alexander Lachlan McLintock  (alexmc@arcfan.demon.co.uk)
%d 19940315
%i Purple Air
%x Space Safe Coke Can
%x Martial Arts And Farts
* %k Air
* %k Space Travel
* %k Fart
%e
Ever since the first years of space travel it has been necessary to detect
the loss of breathable air from a spacecraft.  The most common solution
before the wide-spread use of intelligent hulls was to deploy floating
balls of vacuum-activated resin.  These bubbles of liquid would drift
around the cabin atmosphere but when the hull was holed (by microscopic
meteorites, for example) the draft of escaping air sucked these bubbles to
the breach and exposure to the vacuum started the hardening process.  The
hardened resin would block the hole until more permanent fixes could be
applied.

Technology and market forces improved the design.  Several accidents with
people choking on resin bubbles and eager lawyers saw that this product was
quickly improved.  The bubbles were made smaller and totally harmless to
life.  The result was "Active Air": air you could breathe - but it would
perform some function for you when the need arose.

Further Active Air products were developed including the "Space Travellers
Fart Detector."  The active elements to this product turned purple when in
the presence of hydrogen sulphide.  This meant no more questions of "Who
farted?", as the answer could be visibly determined.  This product is the
origin of the phrase "Phew, that was a juicy purple."
%e
*EOA*


%t Americanitus
%n 8U8
%s Diseases Of The Emigrated
%a Alexander Lachlan McLintock  (alexmc@arcfan.demon.co.uk)
%d 19940903
* %k America
%e
If you intend to move your family to a foreign country be aware of the 
medical risks.  A recent case involved the McLintock family who moved from 
south London to Chicago for two years.  James and Lucy McLintock were normal
British kids.  They played football and spoke English.  But on returning to
Britain they had swollen alarmingly!  (I am informed that this process is 
called growing).  They now play "soccer" and have appalling American accents
and slang.  For instance I have been told that the American for "builder's 
behind" is "workman's crack".

Americanitus: Don't Live In Ignorance.
%e
*EOA*


%t Grues
%n 2U93 Not Author Confirmed
%s Subterranean Predator
%a Christopher W. Murphy  (cmurphy@richmond.infi.net)
%d 19950411
%x Zork
* %k Predators
%e
A subterranean creature, famed for its voracious appetite, its loathing of
sunlight, and its primary dietary staple, adventurers, enchanters, and (you
guessed it) hitchhikers.  No one has ever successfully captured the likeness
of a grue although tales of near escape from their ravenous jaws filled with
razor-sharp fangs are not uncommon.  They are considered quite evil,
although none are known to be aligned with any exact incarnation or
manifestation of Evil, and are best avoided.

NOTE: Grues are mentioned in the Zork myth-cycle (see Zork).

If you think you're in the vicinity of a grue, here are a few questions
to ask yourself:

          1) Is your immediate locale medievalish or fantastical?  Would
             you describe any of your companions as trolls, ogres, or little
             Hobbity-things?

             If the answer is no, you have nothing to worry about.  Grues
             (or the rumored existence of grues) have been documented only
             on planes of reality which are decided Tolkienesque -- dusty,
             moldy, dark ages.

             If yes, move on to question #2.

          2) Are you in the complete, impenetrable dark?

             If the answer is no, again, you're okay.  Grues detest even
             the slightest ambient solar light.

             If the answer is yes, we can offer but one small bit of advice,
             although it generally goes against the editorial policy of the
             Guide:

             Panic, for Zarquon's sake!
%e
*EOA*


%t Zork
%n 2U94 Not Author Confirmed
%s Folk Myth
%a Christopher W. Murphy  (cmurphy@richmond.infi.net)
%d 19950411
%e
The classic folk myth about a naive young adventurer who rose to become
a powerful magic-user.  First the adventurer recovered the scattered Twenty
Treasures of Zork.  Next, he conquered the mischievous mage, the Wizard of
Frobozz.  Finally, he defeated the reigning archmage, the Dungeon Master in
the colloquial of the story, and took his position.

It has been translated into every known medium and is a profoundly moving
today as it was to its original audience, now lost to us in the veils of
time-space.

Of some note to both scholars and travellers:

          1) The M'rsst civilization (intelligent spores) reenact the myth
             cycle in pheremones once every mating season (roughly every
             78.3 standard years).  Book your reservations early and ask
             the M'rsst Tourism Council about group discounts.

          2) In some backwoods regions of the galaxy Zork remains primarily
             forgotten, the inhabitants preferring flashy multimedia
             nonsense to its simple, classic beauty.

Highly recommended.
%e
*EOA*


%t Spawn
%n 2U95 Not Author Confirmed
%s Hellspawn, The Infernal Agent Of Evil
%a Christopher W. Murphy  (cmurphy@richmond.infi.net)
%d 19950412
%x Malebolgia
%x Hell
* %k Evil
%i Simmons, Lt. Colonel Al
%i Hellspawn
%e
Spawn is an abbreviation of the proper "hellspawn," and is one of the
leaders of the Malebolgia's infernal army which it plans to use against the
forces of Heaven at Armageddon.  They are selected for their works of evil
during life, which are all presumably quite advanced for such relatively
simple entities.

Hitchhikers who encounter Spawns are strongly advised to:

          1) Not panic
          2) Immediately make considerable distance between the two of you..
             like two or three light-years, for instance.

Spawn's bodies are composed of psychoplasm, the very material which makes
up Hell itself.  Their uniforms are neural parasites, organisms which fuse
directly with the host's nervous system and act as both superior offensive
and defensive weaponry.

Each Spawn is returned to his the Living World with extremely powerful,
although finite powers.  This creates a four-way crossroad of sorts:

          1) They can do nothing at all.  Eventually their energies will be
             spent, one way or another.
          2) They can act as forces of good - heroes, if you will.  They
             draw upon the motivations and impulses which damned them,
             punishing the evil around them.  The evil they vanquish returns
             to the Malebolgia for it's own uses.
          3) They can act as forces of evil, the Malebolgia's original
             intention.
          4) They can simply despair.  These few perish from their own
             carelessness or design.

In any case, the Spawn returns to Malebolgia, as servant or nourishment.
Spawns have been witnessed channelling their infernal energies in a number
of ways.  This is by no means a complete list, but only a brief sampling of
some of their known powers:

          * Bolts of destructive energy
          * Healing itself after injury
          * Resurrecting the recently deceased
          * Teleportation (limited)
          * Changing body mass

The latest hellspawn, as of the composition of this article, is Lt. Colonel
Al Simmons.  He is survived by his wife, Wanda Blake (recently remarried to
Terry Fitzgerald, field agent of the United States Security Group).
%e
*EOA*


%t Malebolgia
%n 2U96 Not Author Confirmed
%s Not The Devil, But A Devil
%a Christopher W. Murphy  (cmurphy@richmond.infi.net)
%d 19950412
%x Hell
* %k Evil
%x Spawn
%e
The Malebolgia is as very close to pure evil as one might encounter, short
of meeting Evil Incarnate.  It resides in Hell in the Eight Sphere, dubbed
"the Malebolge" after it defeated the previous resident, another unknown
devil, sometime in the past.

You don't want to meet the Malebolgia.  You don't want to hike through the 
Malebolge.  Be a good hitchhiker.  Obey your parents and all posted speed 
limits.

Malebolgia is of interest for both it's seemingly fathomless capacity for 
evil and it's creation of hellspawns.  It has created an army of hellspawns
(see Spawn) throughout time-space which it plans to use in battle against
the forces of Heaven at Armageddon.

Strangely enough, some patches of time-space actually sell action figures 
of the Malebolgia.  They are limited to extremely small production runs,
causing collectors and other assorted riff-raff to seek after them all
the more ardently.  Memo Diligent, a world-class collector, reportedly
spent the price of say... Iowa on the famed variation "Malebolgia with
small yellow fleck of paint."
%e
*EOA*


%t Death, Flirting And
%n 6U10
%s Getting Some After Passing On
%a Jeff Kramer  (lthumper@bga.com)
%d 19951030
%x Boredom
%x Life After Death
%x Death And The Afterlife
%x Afterlife, The
%e
It has been noted, by some people in the medical and scientific community,
especially the old ones with a lot of time on their hands, how greatly 
death affects a human's ability to flirt.  A crack team of over seventy
researchers (not more than seventy researchers, but researchers over
seventy) set out to study the problem, and will hopefully come up with a
solution.  Debate on whether these researchers were inspired by the quest
for knowledge, or the lack of social contact still rages at Cambridge, but
has for the most part passed into the annals of history in most other
institutions.

The team worked feverishly for over a year, playing dominoes and gin till
one of them died.  Eventually a 20 year old intern keeled over onto the
dominoes board, quivered once, and died.  The cause of death was evaluated
as "sheer boredom", but the researchers had their guinea pig...  They
chopped the intern into little bits, and stuck them into petri dishes with 
a special germ known as 'flirtatious carnivirus', which, when exposed to 
large amounts of flirt-radiation, tends to become outraged and lodges sexual harassment suits with the nearest lawyer.  The test lawyer was a young
graduate named Ernest Whittley, a spineless scum of a lawyer, destined for
large settlements and a life of personally dispensed agony.

The tests involved putting Ernest Whittley in a box covered with a solution
reactive to "flirtatious carnivirus", code named "glass ceiling".  The
intern-bits dishes were placed on a table five feet from the box, and were
let alone for an hour.  Every minute the researchers would check how much
"glass ceiling" had been activated, and thereby rated each intern-bit on
its flirt count.  The results were astonishly conclusive, showing that 
noses, toes, and hands were very flirty after death, and armpits, ear
canals, and knees were utterly un-flirty.

A team of chemical biologists, intent on getting some action after they
passed on, invented a flirt drug, and tested it on the group.  This
resulted in an unnaturally large production of flirt-radiation, and so the
research facility became the most popular building on the site.  The
researchers were about to file their findings with the international
conference on sexuality, but were slapped with a 50 trillion dollar sexual
harassment lawsuit by Ernest Whittley, whereupon they all keeled over dead,
and their findings were lost forever.  Some researchers that were too proud
to join the project attempted to create the compound out of the researchers
remains, but for some unexplainable reason every last one of them had been
the victim of grave robbers, and their bodies have never been found.
%e
*EOA*


%t Oregon, USA, Earth
%n 8U9
%s What Oregon Is Really Like 
%i Portland, Oregon, USA, Earth
%a Dean  (dino@euclid.colorado.edu)
* Found in alt.humor.best-of-usenet (originally alt.culture.oregon)
* by Roel van der Meulen  (vdmeulen@strw.leidenuniv.nl)
%d 19950125
%e
Ahh, you want to know what life in Oregon is like.  A lot of information on
this you can find in the alt.culture.oregon FAQ, but some time ago I 
prepared a file specifically addressing things NOT in the a.c.o. FAQ.  So,
buckle your seat belt, 'cuz here it comes...

What is Oregon like?  Dark, smoky; visibility often down to 15 feet.  This
occurred after we decided to "open up for business" and all environmental
regulations were rescinded.  The Willamette and Columbia often catch fire;
boats won't navigate the Columbia without protective hulls, otherwise the
acid eats them.  Spotted owl is sometimes served on tables of old-growth in
expensive restaurants.  It is common to go about in scuba gear; there is
now a cottage industry of refilling stations on the streets of Portland 
with fresh air shipped in from Utah.  Of course, all cancer rates are 
several hundred times the national norms.  We won't here comment on life 
expectancies.

The constant rattle of machine-gun fire can be quite annoying when one is
trying to concentrate.  On many street corners in Portland, there are 
large elevated gazeboes from which you can watch private militias shoot it
out over gasoline, food and drugs.  For a small fee, they give panoramic
360-degree views of the fighting through bullet-proof glass.  When there is
a rare lull they toss something salable on the street and it starts again;
the action never stops.  The experience can be quite romantic; it is a 
popular first date and many a marriage proposal has taken place in these. 

Since the Bill of Rights has been declared null and void in the State of
Oregon, drug use has gone up.  It is always enjoyable to watch the busts
through the above-mentioned gazeboes; by virtue of their new powers, the
police are more brutal on gang members than the gangs are on each other. A 
new drug called "the final solution" has recently hit Oregon and it is 
usually fatal by the 10th trip or so.  Those using it will set fire to 
anything flammable and attempt to kill anything that moves; it is very 
popular with the "Dead at 21" crowd in Portland.  Occasionally someone on 
it will sneak an Uzi into a Trail Blazers home game, thus giving new meaning
to the popular term "Rip City."  We should also comment in this paragraph
that all tax funds have been re-allocated to police and prison construction
and maintenance; there are no other social services.  Often there are 
public gladitorial combats at Memorial Coliseum in Portland to relieve the
constant overcrowding in the penal system.  Hungry lions are provided by 
the Washington Park Zoo, a "thumbs down" and... umm, you guess it.

Another danger to the unwary is the trapdoors on the sidewalks which go
down to the sausage factories.  Most of the natives know how to avoid them 
and only consider them a nuisance, but out-of-staters should beware.  We
should also here comment that the survivalists have taken over Forest Park 
in Portland and it is littered with anti-personnel devices.  Anybody who
accidently wanders in the area and is caught, umm... did you ever read 
"The Most Dangerous Game?"  The stray bodies found cluttering up the streets
in the morning are sold to the knackers.

The major arteries into Portland have large signs just before town reading
"Abandon all hope, ye who enter here."  Cars with California plates... well
let's not say what happens to them.  Out-of-staters who overstay their 
visas or are caught trying to take jobs are put to work in concentration 
camps in the Siskiyous; out-of-state developers are publicly executed 
without trial and their heads left on stakes by the border as a warning to
others.

A sad result of the education funding problems in Oregon is the fact that
daily newspapers in Oregon seldom use words having more than five letters:
the folks in Oregon can't understand things like "The president's economic
advisors have determined that we should pressure the Federal Reserve into
restricting the money supply to combat inflation."  The Big O (the Portland
_Oregonian_) would say "The Big Chief's friends want less cash out there so
that it is worth more."

Of course you know about the Oregon Citizens Alliance (OCA), the anti-gay 
family-values people.  Since their recent armed takeover of the state
capitol in Salem and the institution of military rule, anyone as much as 
suspected of homosexual activity is forced to undergo a sort of a "Ludovico
Technique" in which the unfortunate is forced to stay awake for days on end
watching dramatizations of bible stories until s/he recants.  Touching
yourself, listening to the Grateful Dead and a host of other things will
get you the same thing, and capital punishment for the above-mentioned
offenses is common in rural areas.  Another result is that any female of
child bearing age is required to take periodic pregnancy tests; if one is
positive and the next negative with no delivery between, she is publicly
stoned.  Needless to say, watching the demolition crews blow up family
planning clinics was a popular sport for some time in Oregon.  Public 
book-burnings are another way that the powers that be keep the populace
distracted; the owner of the offending literature is usually torched along
it.  Except in the inner city where they are trying to get the minority
population to kill itself off, the water supply is spiked with scopolamine
to keep the people pacific, believing and obeying what their leaders say.
Of course I should add that the Jewish population has long since fled;
Catholics are tolerated but must be registered with the authorities.

All the same, Oregon is a pretty nice place. You should try moving to
Boulder, Colorado if you want excitement.  Don't come with California
plates...
%e
*EOA*


%t Useful Phrases For The Intergalactic Tourist
%n 8U10
%s This Will Keep You Out Of Trouble
%a Joanna Russ, edited and slightly modified by Jon Nelson (not available)
* Found in alt.humor.best-of-usenet by
* Roel van der Meulen  (vdmeulen@strw.leidenuniv.nl)
%d 19950402
%e
It is advisable for the intergalactic tourist to learn this list by heart.


At the Hotel:
-------------
That is my companion.  It is not intended as a tip.
I will call the manager.
This cannot be my room because I cannot breathe ammonia.
I will be most comfortable between the temperatures of 290 and 303 degrees
  Kelvin.
Madam, this bed/nest is alive.
That is not what room service means on Earth.
Please do not turn off the gravity while I am utilizing the waste-
  reclamation unit.


At the Party:
-------------
Is that you?
Is that all of you?  How much (many) of you is (are) there?
I am happy to meet your clone.
Interstellar amity demands that we make some physical display at this 
  point, but I beg to be excused.
Are you toxic?
Are you edible?  I am not edible.
We humans do not regenerate.
My companion is not edible.
That is my ear.
I am toxic.
I do not eat living food.
I do not drink living drinks.
Is that how you copulate?
Is this intended to be erotic?
Thank you very much.
Please explain.
Do you turn colors?
Are you pregnant?
Regurgitation is intended as a great compliment to the hostess on Earth.
I shall leave the room.
Can't we just be friends?
Take me to the Earth Consulate immediately.
Although I am very flattered by your kind offer, I cannot accompany you 
  to the mating pits, as I am viviparous.


In the Hospital:
----------------
No!
My eating orifice is not at that end of my body.
I would rather do it myself.
My religious convictions prevent me from joining in the event.
I do not feel well.
I feel very sick.
Please do not let the atmosphere in (out) as I will be most uncomfortable.
I do not eat lead.
These limbs are not mine.
My head is not interchangeable.
Placing the thermometer there will yield little or no useful information.
Take me to the Earth Consulate at once.


Sightseeing:
------------
You are not my guide.  My guide was bipedal.
We Earth people do not do that.
That is my transportation.  It is not intended as a food.
Oh, what a jolly fine natatorium [mating perch, arranged spectacle, 
  involuntary phenomenon]!
At what hour does the lovelorn princess fling herself into the flaming 
  volcano?  May we participate?
That is not demonstrable.
That is hardly likely.
That is ridiculous.
I have seen much better examples of that.
Please direct me to the nearest sentient mammal.
Take me to the Earth Consulate without delay.


At the Theater:
---------------
Is that amusing?
I am sorry; I did not mean to be offensive.
I did not intend to sit on you.  I did not realize that was you. 
Could you please deform yourself a little bit lower?
My eyes are sensitive only to light in the wavelengths of 3000-7000 A.
Am I imagining this?
Am I supposed to be imagining this?
Should I be perturbed by that substance on the floor?
Where is the exit?
Help!
This is great art.
Is this supposed to be erotic?
May I take this home with me?
Is this part of the performance?
Stop touching me.
Sir or Madam, that is mine.  (extrinsic)
Sir or Madam, that is mine.  (intrinsic)
I wish to visit the waste-reclamation units.
Have you finished?
May I begin?
You are in my way.
Under no circumstances.
If you do not stop that, I will call the attendant. That is forbidden by 
  my religion.
Sir or Madam, this is a private unit.


Compliments:
------------
You are more than before.
Your hair is false.
If you uncover your feet, I will faint.
There is no room.
You will undoubtedly be here tomorrow.
You are anatomically correct.


Insults:
--------
You are just the same.
There are more of you than previously.
Your fingers are showing.
How clean you are!
You are clean, but animated.
You are anatomically incorrect.


General:
--------
Take me to the Earth Consulate.
The Earth Consulate will hear of this.
This is no way to treat a visitor.
Please direct me to my hotel.
At what time does the moon rise?  Is there a moon?  Is it a full moon?
Something has just gone amiss with my vehicle.
I am dying.
I cannot comprehend the physical laws in operation at this quantum 
  singularity point.  Please direct me to the Pan-dimensional Earth Consulate
  in the moment immediately succeeding this one.
%e
*EOA*


%t Plutoniad, The
%n 8U11
%s A New Mathematical Operator
%a Lee Merkel  (lmerkel@BIX.com)
*  Found on alt.humor.best-of-internet by PGGFRR Roel van der Meulen  
*  (vdmeulen@strw.leidenuniv.nl)
%d 19940814
%i Ludwig Plutonium
%x Gravity
%e
Ludwig Plutonium in his life proposed several equations:

        * Gravity is neutrino couplings

        * The ether is space.  And the ether is neutrinos.  Ether is 
          neutrino space.

        * Plutonium QM:  Superfluidity and superconductivity is the motion
          of neutrinos.

        * Superfluid helium is Quantized neutrinos, i.e. equal to gravity.
          Gravity is nullified by neutrinos because gravitons are 
          neutrinos.

        * In early 1994 he intuited that superconductivity, by math logic, 
          is photon carriers diffracted grated into neutrino carriers.
          Superconductivity is neutrino motion in frozen matter.

I propose a new Mathematical Operator (MO) -- the Plutoniad -- written as
"is" (except when Syntactical Hierarchy of Informational Transmission -- 
SHIT -- transforms the Plutoniad through 180 degreasings into "are").
 
How this new MO works:
 
          A is B
 
In this Plutoniadic equation, A and B can be anything, but to acquire the 
most powerful VD (Vector Declension), they should be, technically speaking,
things that raise eyebrows when paired in a Quantum Equality Declaration 
(QED).  Thus,
 
          Time is Inertia
 
is a Plutoniadic equation, as is:
 
          Time is Money
 
This clears a lot of underbrush and leads us to:
 
          Inertia is Money
 
Which proves couch potatoes are more economically aggressive than most 
people think.
 
The power of the Plutoniad lies in the long tradition of equality in math.
None of this newfangled crackpot unproven blarney like square roots, 
polynomials, long division or especially inequalities.  Because:
 
          Equality is King!
 
This plutoniadic equation (Equality is King!) is marked by the Urgent 
Responsive Power (URP) symbol, the  "!"  This signifies a truly significant
Plutoniadic equation of great signification.
%e
*EOA*


%t Professions:  Balloon Animal Sculptor
%n 8U12
%s Warning About Appreciation Of This Profession
%a Dan McDonald  (d.mcdonald@xpedite.com)
* Found in alt.humor.best-of-usenet (originally rec.juggling)
* by Roel van der Meulen  (vdmeulen@strw.leidenuniv.nl)
%d 19950308
%i Balloon Animal Sculpting As A Profession
%e
An advertisement said:

          "Have a BLAST with BALLOON ANIMALS!!
           Impress your friends and be the center of attention!"  

Or, I might say, get mistaken for a clown.

The Internet Truth-In-Advertising committee has issued the following
advisory in the wake of this advertisement:

Contrary to what some recent balloon animal suppliers' bombastic
advertising may have lead you to believe, the International Social
Acceptability Standards (ISAS) committee's rating scale still remains:

1.   Movie Stars
2.   Major Political Figures
3.   TV Stars
4.   Millionaire Playboys

[...]

426. Frisbee-catching Dog trainers
427. Jugglers
428. Clowns (non-big feet & flower)
429. Contortionists
429. Balloon Animal Sculptors         <=== NOTE: CONSIDERABLY LESS COOL
430. Clowns (big feet & flower)                  THAN MOVIE STAR.
431. Mimes
432. Professional Panhandlers

Note, however that "*Obscene* Balloon Animal Sculptor" can be rated as
high as 257 when used "for cocktail party entertainment only." (ISAS
Code Sec. 17, para 129, ammended 12 Oct. 1994)
%e
*EOA*


%t Monkeys, Barrel Of
%n 6U11
%s More Fun Than A Barrel Full Of Monkeys
%a Roger Hanna  (rwhanna@iglobal.net)
* submitted by (vicnangl@airmail.net) Robert Garland, alias Robin Starveling
%d 19960607
%i Barrel Of Monkeys
%e
An archaic game involving plastic monkeys, a plastic barrel and (presumably)
plastic fun.  Of more interest is the expression "more fun then a barrel
full of monkeys", which interestingly enough seems to predate the rather
mediocre game. 

A considerable debate continues to rage about this phrase, with occasional
drunken brawls livening the discussion from time to time.  What, exactly, is
so much fun about a barrel of monkeys?  How many monkeys are in a barrel?
What kind of monkey?  What size of barrel?  What sort of sandwich would a
barrel monkey like?  What color would the monkeys like the barrel painted?
If they were to go over the Niagara Falls in that barrel, would it be fun?
And do you have to be alive to have fun?  

These and other earth shattering problems prompted the "1st Annual Monkey
Barrel Conference"  in Berne, Switzerland, on Dec 5, 1995.  A number of
things quickly became apparent:  

1. The monkeys had to be alive and intact to have fun.  A strong religious
left movement pushed for a "bliss after death" ruling (and thence to
overthrow the famous "Monkus Intactus" clause), but this was overruled by
Green Peace and the Vatican.  

2. The size of the barrel and the size of the monkey are both vital and
totally irrelevant.  It is instead crucial to maintain the proper ratio of
monkey size to barrel size.  The Phrase Founder (the near mythical being or
group who coined the phrase) obviously had in mind a divine plan, a
mystical monkey-barrel ratio of monkey bliss.  The Ratio Committee worked
hard and long, examining archaeological data, the Egyptian hieroglyphs,
various biblical texts, the Tantric Guide to Orgasmic Love, the Wiccan Guide
and of course, the Easy Guide to the Future and Past Through the Sandwich
Oracle.  The result was stupendous and is still debated:  6.7 monkeys per 
barrel (it is thought that the PF was close friends with the first director 
of the U. S. Census Bureau).  Since Monkus Intactus was in effect, this was 
rounded to 7.0.  Increasing or decreasing this number can cause variations 
in the Monkey Giggle Value, exact extent of this changes and the rate of 
change of the rate of change is still unknown.

3. The Fun Board decided that the Barrel of Monkeys was equivalent to 15
minutes of rather good stand up comedy, 5 minutes of a really good Doom
game, half an orgasm, 7 good sandwiches, half of a joint or a six-pack of
good beer.  It was, however, nowhere as good as the acid they took as
comparison.  Meeting called on account of severe lack of coherence suffered
after the last comparison.

4. The Attitude Panel decided that the Ratio Committee was correct (or at
least impossible to disprove), but that the Monkey Attitude Aspect would
modify the Ratio.  It was decided that the original MAA had to be 1.0 (else
the RCs' ratio was wrong).  Various changes in MAA can be effected by
conditions, food, drink and the amount of Monkey Aphrodisiac, to name a few
of the many things tried that morning.  The best was a secret combination
that resulted in a a Monkey Happiness Multiplier (MHM) of 6.7 (a coincidence
thereby proving the need of a Creator Being and his need for Sandwiches and
The Galactic Guide).  The worst remains unknown, but 670 monkeys died during
experimentation.  

5. Before adjourning for lunch a working model of the equation was developed
and is published here for the first time: M = (rndup (MPB))*B, where M =
Number of Monkeys, MPB = Monkeys Per Barrel, and B = the number of Barrels.
A second equation, detailing the Giggle Value of a barrel of monkeys: G =
((M/MPB)*F)*MAA or G = B*F*MAA, where F is the giggle Factor as outlined in
point 3. The equations are rough, and the nonlinear portions of the CI
(Crowding Index) are still under consideration and thusly not taken into
account.

6. Lunch led to cocktails, dinner led to after-dinner drinks which led to a
brawl, a three alarm fire and put 33 conference attendees, 2 police and 6.7
monkeys in the hospital.  

7. All of this was irrelevant since the world was soon to be destroyed and
not a single monkey or barrel would survive.
%e
*EOA*


%t Amber Lights, Life Has None
%n 6U12
%s Life Has No Amber Lights
%a Roger Hanna  (rognkim@gte.net)
* submitted by (vicnangl@airmail.net) Robert Garland, alias Robin Starveling
%d 19960607
%i Life Has No Amber Lights
%x Earth
%e
Life has _no_ amber lights.  Zip.  Zero.  None.  The big celestial doughnut.
Nada.  Now to explain this, please bear with me.  

First, for those of us not familiar with traffic signals (aliens, illegal
aliens, some foreigners, and most drivers in Dallas-Fort Worth, New York and
L.A.), here's what you're missing.  Imagine, if you will, a land of plenty,
crisscrossed with aging road systems, populated with a mix of older, fast,
gas guzzling cars and newer, faster, gas guzzling foreign cars.  Further,
add in cities with an unbelievable population density (rats, when placed in
similar densities, develop homosexuality, cannibalism and daytime talk
shows) with hundreds of miles of crowded "surface streets" _without_ direct
supervision!  

Not one intersection has a permanent police presence nor even a camera to
record who does and does not obey the traffic laws.  It is merely assumed
that you will obey the lights that adorn each intersection like
out-of-season Christmas trees [1].

Each intersection has lights facing the oncoming drivers from (usually) four
(sometimes two, three, five or even six) directions.  Only three colors are
used:  red, green and amber.  Green means go.  Red means don't go.  Amber
means "maybe don't go", "don't go if it's not safe" or "go fast 'cause it's
gonna be red soon" (depending on translation).  

Red and green seem to be well thought (quite above the normal thought seen
[Paul: "...seem to be well thought" what?  Thought out?  Thought of?  This
 line doesn't make sense.]
on this benighted planet), but this amber thing has puzzled many.  When
dealing with mostly non-happy things like half-ton to multi-ton vehicles,
brain dead pedestrians, and variables like the sobriety of the drivers,  the
willingness to pay for adequate maintenance, what kind of sandwich the
drivers ate, whether or not the driver has sex lately and finally, whether
or not the driver was armed (and with what), you kinda want to take the
chance out of the process.  Or carry plenty of health insurance (a solution
_mandated_, believe it or not, by the government).  

What in the name of all that's froody were they thinking of?  An amber light
is a worthless warning, in so much as it prevents nothing!  Say you are
speeding down the road, anxious to make it to a date.  The intersection
ahead glows brightly green.  _No_!  Wait!  Now it's _amber_!  What do you
do?  Speed up, to make it before red.  What happens at red?  The other
traffic goes immediately green [2]!  No pause, to let traffic clear, no
timely wait to let out of breath pedestrians finish crossing, or anything.
Just _amberamberamberred_ and the other light goes _green_ and traffic
smashes you into a small painful puddle of bodily fluid mixed
indiscriminately with gas, oil and steering fluid.  

It would be far better to put the amber on both sides. Put both ambers on
three seconds; after the green goes amber and red, the red goes amber then
green.  This would allow sanity to return to the streets and cut down on
happy go-froody people getting cut down.  In addition, it is recommended
that an auto-tracking, 30 mm auto-cannon be posted at each intersection,
with radar, infrared and optical tracking sensors to blow offenders into
smithereens, will cut down on the number of traffic citations [3].
[Paul: This last line also needs some revamping.  What is being recommended?
 What will cut down the number of citations?  The subject/predicate here is
 inconclusive.]

Now, for a moment, consider the feelings of your average light.  House
lights have a happy home life, street lights spend a lot of time on and are
a very satisfied sort of light.  Christmas tree lights are well known as
neurotic, fast burning maniacs (with admittedly high morale) and growth
lights in pot farms are, well, highly esteemed by their peers.  

But traffic lights are lights with problems.  Take red, for instance.  Red
is continually feeling down.  All it ever does is act as an obstacle in the
road of life (or more importantly, on a road near you); always stopping
cars, trucks and buses, enduring the cursing of late drivers, being shot at
by drunks, it's just not easy being red.  

Green, on the other hand, is a very happy light.  "Go, go, go!" is green's
motto and it does its very best to be bright and cheerful.  This happiness
has its drawbacks, and some green lights have been known to go completely
frood-happy and turn green out of turn.  These serial murderers are rare,
however and easily spotted by chalk outlines in the intersection.  

Amber lights are completely nuts.  It is a caring, liberal of a light,
wanting to warn and protect those approaching a dangerous area.  This,
coupled with the number of utter fools that get killed (and kill others)
while trying to "beat the light", will usually cause a complete mental
breakdown in the poor amber light.  It suffers the utter humiliation of a
prophet who knows he is right, knows he has the answer and people run by him
to kill themselves.  It is very frustrating.  

Currently, that brings us to this. People believe amber lights are a warning
they can ignore with impunity (no matter what the traffic analysts believe).
Traffic lights know better. There are NO AMBER LIGHTS IN LIFE.  

Editor's Footnotes:
[1] Drag Racing starting lights are known as Christmas trees because they
    have over seven lights for each of the two competing cars. This is
    rather strange since their main function is to tell when the drivers
    when to go which could be quite well catered for by a single green
    light, or perhaps a man waving a flag.
[2] Britain's traffic lights already go from red, to red and amber together,
    followed by green.  But it doesn't stop people from jumping the lights.
[3] We got those too.
%e
*EOA*


%t Fossilised Hamburger Of St Albert, The
%n 8U13 
%s Past Fast Food
%a Aaron Rice  (a.rice@ukonline.co.uk)
%d 19960704
%x Cheese
%i Hamburger of St Albert
%i St Albert, The Hamburger Of
%i Fast Food From The Past
%i Past Food
%e
St Albert was the site of a major archaeological dig that uncovered the
remains of what they now believe to be a 3,000 year-old hamburger.  The
area, in which no previous discoveries of this kind have been made, was
once thought to have housed an ancient marketplace.

The hamburger, though quite obviously inedible now, has been transferred to
a nearby research institute, where scientists are currently trying to unlock
its secrets, in the hope that they might one day be able to recreate the
burger as it once was.  Its external appearance seems to suggest that it had
been previously cooked several times, and thoroughly steamed to remove the
last vestiges of flavour [1].  Unfortunately, due to the very nature of the
discovery, bite-sized pieces of it have since began to go missing on a
regular basis.

The excavation still continues, at this time, as the encouragement of the
first discovery has urged many to believe that there is still more to be
found.  Their major hope is that we will, one day, discover how this ancient
civilisation actually lived and survived for so long, or if they survived at
all.

This discovery has been placed as the most significant since the great Pizza
of St Louis and the Milkshake of Staines, which now appear in the Museum of
Paris, displayed alongside other relics that are thought to have dated from
the same era.

[1] Much as many are, even today.
%e
*EOA*


*
* End of file:  UREAL05.NEW
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