* * Archive: UREAL06.NEW * * Created on: Tue Mar 28 15:30:11 2000 * * Number of articles: 24 * * 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 , where you'll be able to * find an FAQ. * * * The articles in this file are: * * 8U14-1 Lycanthropy, Why I Wouldn't Mind * 9U1-1 Malaroonian Star System * 8U15-1 Pink Plastic Chair Phenomenon * 6U13-1 Murphic Field In Daily Life, The * 9U2-1 Deadly Yams' Disease * 11U1-1 First Aid For Non-Medically Minded Persons * 6U14-1 Random Sort Method * 8U17-1 Taco Moose * 9U3-1 Booting, Origin Of The Word * 11U2-1 Schroedinger's Dog * 6U15-2 Bruce, Stuart * 12U1-1 Hell, A Tourist's Guide * 6U16-1 Law Of Gravity, The * 8U18-1 Einstein, Albert, The Non-Existence Of * 8U19-1 Santa Claus, The Privatisation Of * 8U20-1 Brushing Teeth * 8U21-1 Santa Claus, The Early Years * 8U22-1 Immortality, What To Do When You Have Acquired * 9U4-1 Golf Ball, Successive Layers Within A * 9U5-1 Big Red Panel, The * 9U6-1 Reality * 9U7-1 Petite Cola * 12U2-1 Food Conspiracy, The * 8U23-1 Invisibility, Practising At Home * %t Lycanthropy, Why I Wouldn't Mind %n 8U14 %s Hairy And Loving It! %a Mike "Gavin" Schmitt (schmitt@vbe.com) %d 19960804 %x Scaring Children %i Werewolves %e So you're turning into a hairy wolf [1] every time the moon goes full? You can't stand wolfsbane or being shot by a silver bullet? Well, maybe you have lycanthropy. Sure, it sounds bad, but as Graham Chapman would say, always look on the bright side of life. This article is for those who still have a human mind while in beast form, because a beast mind would automatically force you to enjoy yourself, although you probably wouldn't remember anything afterwards. This article is about the fun you can have as a big member of the wolf family... If you have a conscience, stop here! Not for the politically correct! Mailbox Fun (And Other Feats of Strength) ========================================= With your extreme bestial strength, you can do some pretty impressive damage. This could be done to any number of things. Personally, I'd use a mailbox, but automobiles and aluminum siding work equally well. Simply push your paws on either side and crush it inward. Try making interesting designs. But be warned! Do not crush it outward, or they'll think it was a firecracker (or similar device) and be at your door the next morning [2]. Along the same lines you could pick up cars, or uproot trees, or fire hydrants... and possibly set them back down in the most unusual of places. In fact, the list is practically endless. Why not "borrow" someone's new Corvette for a week while you're at it? Then there's always the list of human's childish pranks that could be done with a bit more pizazz. Being a Wisconsin native, cow tipping instantly comes to mind. Trying to tip one over would be nearly impossible without having it roll over six or seven times. And if the farmer would catch you, I seriously doubt he'd be worried about his _cow_. Shedding ======== Sure. You're thinking "Man, what a mess!" But why must it be _you_ saying it? If you can get access to another person's house, why not lounge around, watch TV, and drink their soda. They would end up with one helluva mess and you'd have free drinks! This idea may even work when they're home [3]: would you argue with a saber-toothed, flesh-reeking, drooling, hairy wolfman? I didn't think so. Impersonations (And Halloween) ============================== This one is especially fun. While in wolf form, strip down to your fur. Go into a dog house and wait [4]. When Little Timmy comes calling, get out and run at him. If it's dark, you may just trick him. If not, watch his face... "Gee, Sparky, you sure have gr- gr- Sparky? Aaaahhh!!!" And since you're a wolf, why not go _as_ a wolf to Halloween parties or similar events? Heck, you'd win most realistic costume hands down. Nothing is more like a werewolf than a werewolf itself. If you can talk, I also recommend going up to the host and asking him about the meat... "Excuse me, Paul -- I don't suppose you could cook the next batch of steaks a little less? Hell, just give me them raw." As always, there is a popular trick for "less civilized" parties known as "Crushing Beer Cans On Your Forehead". The difference between normal crushing, and wolf-crushing? Quite simply, you could crush _full_ cans. Talk about impressing the girls... And speaking of impressing girls, my friend Nate claims being a wolf would have you meet girls by impressing them with your hairiness. Though, being the second hairiest guy in my town, I can tell you this doesn't do a damn thing for you. Howling ======= While in wolf form, why not do the obvious thing and howl? Let back and fill the air with calls of terror and tyranny. In fact, do this in the middle of town, or in a supermarket. The effects are amazing. Even if you can't howl very well, I think the desired effect will be achieved. Now that I think about it, other wolflike things may work just as well. Being at the movie theater chewing on the seats, or in a library answering the call of nature. Make sure to do it in the romance section, though. Last thing I want is for someone to ruin the Dragonlance or Star Wars books. Hold-Ups ======== Being a lycanthrope it is easier to rob your average small town convenience store or fast food restaurant than a heavy guarded bank. Chances are, even lead bullets ought to do something to a smelly behemoth. Enter the store and wait for the guy behind the counter to wake up. He'll give the usual "Ah, good morning" (or its mumbling equivalent). He'll be too sleepy to notice who you are when he offers his services at first, but by the time you ask for assistance, he'll get a whiff of last night's highway roadkill (or similar meal) and be going on his way. Now you've got the store to yourself. And don't worry about the video cameras, unless of course you're an unnaturally hairy guy. The author claims no responsibility for any hold-ups or other actions by lycanthropes... especially in the vicinity of Kaukauna, Wisconsin [5]. NO RESPONSIBILITY WHATSOEVER. [1] Or a bat, bear, tiger, etc. Thanks to Dungeons and Dragons, we have any number of furry things to choose from. [2] Assuming you destroy mailboxes all the time, which we can safely conclude from the fact that you think about it anyway. [3] Caution: if you're going to scare your way in, don't do this to old people. Heart attacks are _not_ funny. [4] If there's already a dog in there, keep it quiet!! [5] My home town. %e *EOA* %t Malaroonian Star System %n 9U1 %s Things To Do While Visiting Malaroon %a Mike Rohde (MRohde6592@gnn.com) %d 19960730 %x Happy Hour, How To Fit In %x The Unfortunate Life of David Kilbourne %x Fashion %i Star System, Malaroonian %e The Malaroonian Star System is possibly one of the most unpopular of all tourist star systems. This is mainly due to it not being a tourist star system, but this should not deter hitchhikers who are looking to see everything everywhere. Key export: Malaroonian Butt-silk. Official languages: Malaroonian, Common Trade, and Spanish. The following are a few great places to visit: 1) There is a very good shopping planet, known as the "small shopping planet", where many good quality items may be purchased cheaply. Highly recommended is a really, really good flavor of ice cream known as Friple-Cocoa-Flip. The Royal Upheaval, an oversized sundae containing fifty-two scoops of Friple-Cocoa-Flip, is recommended for life forms that do not easily regurgitate [1]. 2) The Malaroonian Butt-silk [2] factory. Not the monster production factory it once was. However, tours are still available at low group rates. 3) The Royal Palace at Halabaloo. Constructed as a wedding gift for Prince Virulent and her lady Stephanie, this beautiful and massive building is almost a planet in itself. People requesting tours will be dismembered by the palace guard, so any tours are best taken from a very high orbit. There are many more sights to see while in Malaroon, so be creative. Swing by that frozen looking planet. Duck down that dark alley. What could it hurt? [1] Regurgitating life forms are politely requested to try the single scoop cone. [2] Malaroonian Butt-silk, like its name suggests, comes from the butts of the Malaroonian Silk Worm. Unfortunately, the precious silk can only be excreted when massive pressure is applied to the worms fragile head. As a result, the worms were almost driven to extinction by the ridiculously large amount of ruthless fashion designers that live in the area. Now one of the Universe's three protected species [3], only small amount of these worms are allowed to be collected for each upcoming fashion season. [3] The protected species list was shortened from three-hundred trillion to three after it was realized the massive amount of trees that were being destroyed for the paper used to keep the protected species list updated. Indeed, over four-hundred galaxies became uninhabitable due to massive amounts of defoliation. %e *EOA* %t Pink Plastic Chair Phenomenon %n 8U15 %s The Pink Plastic Chairs Are Here And Multiplying Rapidly %a Todd "Baravard" Schmitt (baravard1@2juno.com) %d 19960808 %i Chairs: Friend Or Foe? %i Pink Chair Defense Squad %e Yes, you're thinking that Pink Plastic Chairs are just comfortable pieces of plastic there to sit yourself down on and have a cool drink, but you are wrong. Pink Plastic Chairs are one of very few "inanimate" objects that have suddenly turned out to be lethal. Originally, strange happenstances I observed at my friends house about Pink Plastic Chairs made me wonder; but as the reports of lawn-chair related deaths started streaming in, I did a little research. In every major culture the same basic shape for chairs appears again and again. Why? My theory is that these chair-builders actually based their designs on an actual creature. Rarely seen for what it really is, these deadly chairs move among us, and occasionally feed upon us. From cave paintings to Egyptian art to stone sculpture, warnings are written of a killer _something_ that can sneak up on you when you least expect it: A Pink Plastic Chair. Prehistoric Encounters ====================== The Pink Chair Phenomenon has been recorded by all major civilizations. Pink Chairs were originally feared by the caveman when they had only evolved as far as Stone Chairs. They were often quite uncomfortable, though, and didn't get as many victims as today's Cozy Intruders. Early cave paintings reveal cavemen trapped between the mighty pink arm rests of these horrible creatures. Evolution Explanation: The early Chairs were less comfortable, and so the people sitting on them often left before they could be devoured. "Me hurt-um back, me out of here..." So, as time continues, the Chairs will become more and more appealing until we won't be able to resist!!! They'll eat us by the dozens!! Oh, God. The humanity! [1] Early Encounters ================ Christopher Columbus sailed the Atlantic all the way from Spain to America. He then ran on to the New World with his best friends: Edgar, Jimm, and Tonto. He carried with him a flag of Spain and a Jar of Jif peanut butter. He stabbed the flag into the ground and said: "I claim this land in the name of Spain!". Shortly afterwards, they noticed some Pink Wooden Chairs at the edge of the woods. They worked a while, when Tonto finally noticed that some of the Chairs were less than fifteen feet from the ship [2]. Tonto had some problems, and not resisting a comfortable-looking wooden chair just happened to be one of them. Tonto was drawn to the chair by an unnatural force, beckoning to him to seat himself on its well-polished oaken majesty. Finally, Tonto couldn't control himself any longer. Seeing that Chris was in the john, he quickly limped [3] to the Pink Chair. Lining his posterior up with the chair, he quickly sat down. Thirty minutes later, when Chris left the little boys' room, all they found was a fashionable chair and a pile of hemorrhoids. Chris was dumb-struck, absolutely desolate, and mildly suicidal: the natives had eaten Tonto (or so he believed), and even more shocking -- his Jif was gone. Ever-So-Slightly Awhile Ago Encounters ====================================== May, 1957 The hottest day of the year... I'm talking so hot that we staked out my sister and fried an egg on her. It was also dry. I'm talking so dry that... (_shut up_!!). Okay, so anyway, it was 9:32, and black as the ace of spades. The police had been staking out a bar on the edge of town for weeks. Suddenly, a white Ford Bronco pulled up and two midgets walked out carrying an unidentified pink object. They quickly kicked open the door, threw the object in, got in the car, and drove away [4]. The cops entered the bar forty-five minutes later toting M-16's, tear-gas, and some warning labels ripped off of mattresses. The bar was far from spotless, but all the customers had disappeared; all that was left was an Aluminum Pink Chair. Twenty minutes later, when the police officers suddenly disappeared, a rescue squad was called in. Forty-five minutes later, when the rescue team disappeared, a rescue-team rescue team was called in... Present Day Encounters: My Real-Life Example(s) ================================================ Jenny Kempen's house, a Christmas in July party. I can't quite recall what month it was, but it was nice weather for volleyball. Jenny's parents set out some lawn chairs and some Pink Plastic Chairs [5]. I originally saw two Chairs; merely hours later they had multiplied to four! I tried explaining my Pink Plastic Chair Theory to my friends, but they wouldn't listen (sounds a bit like Jurassic Park). Later that night, I took my sombrero off, and Jenny set it on a Pink Chair; no one ever found the hat again. After the party Jenny's parents found a pair of underwear and a swimsuit. Perhaps someone's child disappeared after being seen on a little Pink Plastic Chair? A hunter in San Antonio was captured on amateur video after a huge Pink Chair came crashing down on him from a tree. Unfortunately, this video cannot be shown on this system. Why this hunter was in San Antonio is yet to be uncovered. Other Species Of Chairs To Beware Of ==================================== Velcro Covered Chairs: people with curly hair, beware... Yeah, that's right, beware. Fly-Paper Chairs: look out for Pink Chairs with all kinds of crap stuck to them (especially flies, hair, lint, and other small furry creatures.) Stools: not really chairs, but beware. Pink Recliners: too deadly to receive accurate information on. (Beware) For more information on chairs, consult your local librarian. To report a mysterious chair, call 1-800-NO-2-PINK, or e-mail The Pink Chair Defense Squad at Baravard1@juno.com [1] Author continues writing after being given a hefty dose of tranquilizer. [2] That's five meters. [3] Tonto was well known for having a horribly uncomfortable case of hemorrhoids. [4] And all this before the cops could set down their box of doughnuts. [5] Some Pink Plastic Chairs have evolved the ability of Insidious Mind-Control to use against the daily consumer. They trick them into buying more and more Pink Plastic Chairs. %e *EOA* %t Murphic Field In Daily Life, The %n 6U13 %s Everything Goes Wrong %a Roel van der Meulen (vdmeulen@strw.leidenuniv.nl) * Credits to David Squire for the concept of the Murphic field and to * Alex McLintock for the ideas for the final paragraph %x Supermarkets %x Magic %x Sandwiches %x Quantum Mechanics Of Sandwiches In Lunchboxes %x Carpets %x Antigravity, The Feline Butterology Theory %x Schroedinger's Cat %d 19950907 %d 19961029 %e Not many people know that, just like the law of gravity can be expressed by a gravitational field, Murphy's law [1] can have a field associated with it: the Murphic field. The amplitude of this field at a specified coordinate indicates the probability of something going wrong at that location. The Murphic field covers the entire planet, or rather, everywhere anyone lets his or her mind wander [2]. That the intensity variations seem to have maxima at the locations of supermarkets has already been adequately explored. Just as the electric field is generated by sources (electric charges), the Murphic field is generated by situations. The Murphic field strength depends on the severity of the consequences of a "happening", where a happening is defined as a spontaneous collapse of the Murphic field at a specific location. I will give an example later on. The study of the Murphic field is still in its infancy; it has not yet been defined how to quantify situations. It is, however, already reasonably simple to compare field strengths of situations. If one takes two identical pieces of buttered bread, then smears one with syrup on the buttered side and puts cheese on the other piece, then the slice of syruped bread is far more likely to fall on the buttered side when it hits the ground than the other one. This is common knowledge. After some training it is easy to detect the Murphic field strength in daily life. A happy and innocent little child playing close to some dangerously moving very heavy cast-iron swings is for instance easily identified as a situation with a large local Murphic field strength. Luckily the Murphic field can just as easy be diminished by simple manipulations, like telling the kid to play somewhere else. The tricky thing is that the manipulation itself disturbs the Murphic field, temporarily creating a significantly higher amplitude. Some people even go so far as to utilise the manipulation to create highly entertaining [3] home movies [4]. In fact, careful manipulation of the Murphic field is the principle on which magic, the _real_ magic, is based. A company, which declined to be named, has sponsored research into how the Murphic field acts in business environments. Important files were placed on blank unlabeled floppies and checked periodically to find out how long it took for someone to accidently delete them. All floppies were tracked for five years, but the program was aborted when it appeared that all the tracking data were accidently erased. [1] Everything that can go wrong, will go wrong... eventually [5]. [2] Realising that something can go wrong somewhere, even on places where there isn't a living soul in sight (like Mercury), will be a sure way to increase the Murphic Field there. It is interesting to compare the role of the observer in Murphic and Quantum Mechanics. [3] To critics I say: did _you_ laugh when you saw the teeth knocked out of that little Japanese kid falling of the curb on TV? (!) [4] If you feel disturbed by these images you can replace the child with an expensive Indian carpet, and the swing with a glass filled to the rim with aggressive black currant juice placed on the edge of an extremely wobbly antique table. The home movie of this happening is not quite as entertaining, though (some say) [6]. [5] Ben Stern (bstern@heatwave.dorm.umd.edu) claims that this law is actually Finagle's Law, Murphy's being "If there are two or more ways to do something, and one of those ways will result in a catastrophe, then someone will do it." The misquote comes with the field, I guess. Beware: there are a whole lot of other Murphy-related laws out there to get you, my dear readers! [7] [6] John Murphy (JMurphy42@aol.com): unless, of course, the following circumstances exist: 1) You are viewing this home movie on television whilst on vacation; 2) This is the first you've ever seen or heard of this video's being taped; and 3) The Indian carpet in question is, without a doubt, the one in your parlor. [7] (Another footnote!) You can read all about this in _The New Hacker's Dictionary_, edited by Eric Raymond. Finagle's Law is in there too. %e *EOA* %t Deadly Yams' Disease %n 9U2 %s Yams Disease And How It Is Taking Over The World %a Todd "Baravard" Schmitt (Baravard1@juno.com) %d 19961112 %x Pink Plastic Chairs Phenomenon %x Beef War, The %i Disease Of Yams %i Yams Disease %e It is my sad duty to tell you of Yams' Disease, and how it claimed my newt, Gunter (see Appendix A). Something has happened to the yams of the world: they've changed. They are no longer helpless fruit, but have horribly mutated to endanger the human race. Scientists have been working around the clock to explain and cure the odd yam-related diseases popping up all over the world. These "new yams" dubbed "yemps", have made the world grind to a halt, as the virus takes hold. First, yam-pickers in Dublin, Ireland began suffering from terrible muscle spasms and a chronic dislike of picking yams, or any plants at all. They seemed to have been affected by an as-of-yet unknown disease. The only thing that all the victims have had in common are the yams. From Dublin, the disease spread throughout the world, presumably through the importing of foreign yams. It has spread from the Western world to supermarkets across the globe; separation and/or quarantine of these areas is impossible due to the fact that at least 70% of the world has in some way been exposed to the diseased yams (see Appendix A). The infected yams pass the disease on by way of thorny spikes sticking out of them which inject the disease into unfortunate people who are poked by them (see Appendix B). Now we come down to the pressing question at hand: what is Yams' Disease? Well, Yams' Disease has, thankfully, been found not to be the perpetrator in this crime; actually no-one knows whose fault it is. Whether it is aliens, pollution, nuclear testing, or a combination of the three, it still has no bearing on how to prevent a total and uncontrollable spread of the disease. All that is known is that some force has created a virus so awesome as to affect the yam supplies of the entire world almost in an instant! If you come into contact with yemps, your symptoms may include a sudden loss of long-term memory, muscle spasms, and eventually turning into a giant yemp. Yes, this last and most vicious symptom is hard to take, but indeed, if you are effected by the virus you will soon become a rather large edible potato-like root. The virus's life-span can be catagorized into a number of stages: 1) Long-term memory loss, starting with forgetting who you are and where you are, respectively. 2) Muscle spasms, followed by total paralysis. 3) Tissue turns into a rooty, potato-like substance, followed by roots sprouting from the victim and searching for earth to plant itself in. 4) Small spikes sprout from the victim, like the ones found on the yemps themselves. I would like to assure you now that this is no joke, and that I and my scientist companions will struggle to rid the world of this curious, yet deadly, plague. Meanwhile, protect yourselves; trust no edible potato-like root or any large spiky mass! Appendix A ========== November, 1st: Yam-pickers in Dublin report virus, but yam crop is exported anyway. November, 3rd: Infected yemps arrive on the east coast of the Americas, England, Europe, and the former Soviet Union. The disease flares on the delivery sites, but the yams are distributed through the affected countries anyway; because of the incubation period of the virus, no one reached Stage 4 before the yemps were sent out. November, 4th: The full effect is noticed by most of the affected countries, and a call for biologists and other scientists is made. November, 5th: The full team of scientists is assembled, and the study of the yemp begins. November, 6th: One scientist, Jimm Stewart, is involved with a yemp accident that leaves him infected. He was in Stage 1 at the start of the Day and is in Stage 2 this afternoon. November, 7th: Jimm is at Stage 4 now at the end of Day 7 of the deadly Yams' Disease reign of terror. He has been quarantined and will be used for study. My pet newt, Gunter, is exposed to the virus accidently, and reaches Stage 4 in under 10 minutes. November, 8th: I send a report of my progress to the president and from there it will be sent immediately to the entire world. My public announcement, which you are reading, is entered over the Internet, finding its way into an archive called Project Galactic Guide, where it is quickly stripped of all useful information. Appendix B ========== Yemp Pod Structure -- November, 9th, 1996 Update ------------------------------------------------ * <= (1) /|\ *-**-**-* <= (2) / \ | / \ * *** * \ | / *---*---* / | \ <= (3) 1) Disease spreading tip. 2) Tip launching pod structure, also where new tips are made and where the Yams Disease is stored to fill the newly made tips. 3) Anchoring "roots" that burrow into yams and hold the launching pod structure to the yam. It also takes nutrients from the yam itself to fuel its disease spreading. %e *EOA* %t First Aid For Non-Medically Minded Persons %n 11U1 %s Silly First Aid %a Anonymous * Found in alt.humor.best-of-usenet (originally misc.emerg-services) * by Roel van der Meulen (vdmeulen@strw.leidenuniv.nl) * Found on the net originally by Kent E. Willyard (willyard@ix.netcom.com) %d 19960419 %i Aid, First, For Non-Medically Minded Persons %i Medical Tips For Non-Medics %e To help all those people who somehow never find the time to follow a first aid course, here's a list of how to treat some of the more common accidents. Electrocution ============= Is he/she still connected to the power supply? If so, _switch off the power immediately_. Electricity costs an absolute fortune, and it would be going to waste. Check the victim's pulse (if you can find their wrist amongst the stack of charred bones and greasy, bubbling flesh that was once a human being). And _do_ try not to be squeamish about it. Drive the victim to the nearest emergency room. You can use him/her to jump start the engine as well if need be. Treating Burns And Scalds ========================= Run the affected area under cold tap water as soon as possible (if the victim's entire body is a swirling mass of flames, it may a little too late for this). If the victim has spilled hot liquid over his/her clothes, then _remove clothing immediately_. You can never tell, the sight of you parading around naked may cheer them up and take their mind off their injury. Remind the victim that worse things happen at sea. Cite drowning as an example. Fractures And Broken Limbs ========================== Check the injured area to see if the break or fracture has resulted in a tubular shard of shearing white bone jutting outwards through the bloody mass of flesh. If it has, then tell the victim that they are going to die. That always perks them up. Tie a splint to the victim's leg and ask them to walk back and forth for a few minutes. They will probably fall down unconscious, making the rest of your job easier. Do not move the broken or fractured limb, as this may result in an abnormal position. However, if you're feeling daring, try pointing legs in the wrong direction, bending wrists through 180 degrees, etc. It really is amazing the number of fascinating contortions you can produce. Far better than Play-Doh. Choking On Food =============== Try to dislodge the article blocking the victim's windpipe by punching them hard in the stomach. Do remember to duck before the particles of food hit you in the eye, however. Call the waiter and ask for a 20 percent reduction on the bill. Make a mental note to order soup next time. Cuts And Wounds =============== Dress the wound, whatever _that_ means. Try and limit the blood loss by tying a tourniquet tightly around the victim's throat until they experience difficulty in breathing. Ha ha, only kidding. Tie the tourniquet just above the wound. Just my little joke. Stitch up the wound with aluminium wire. Ha ha! Caught you again! Outsmarted you! Still, I am an expert, you know. Objects Stuck In Victim's Eye ============================= Rinse the victim's eye in lukewarm water. _Do not use soap as well, idiot!_ Offer to pick the object out of the victim's eye with your teeth. This usually results in the object mysteriously "going away" and not bothering the victim any more before you can get to it. Concussion ---------- When the victim comes around, ask them what day it is, who the President is, how many fingers you are holding up. To make it more difficult, hold the fingers up behind your back. Talk in Swahili to disorient the victim a bit more. Yes, there's a whole bundle of laughs when it comes to concussion. Here's a good one: before the victim comes around, switch off all the lights. When he/she regains consciousness, shout "Thank God! We though you might be dead, or blinded or something." %e *EOA* %t Random Sort Method %n 6U14 %s Throw It Up In The Air %a Aaron Rice (a.rice@ukonline.co.uk) %d 19970123 %x Luck %x Compression Sort Transform %i Sorting Method, Random %e Occasionally, even the most strict scientist will reach the point where all the formulae in the world cannot solve his problems. It is at this point where, if they wish to proceed, they must rely on luck. One of the methods they might choose if they need to sort something, and wish to rely on the sheer luck of it, is the Random Sort Method (RSM). To perform this method, you must: 1) Obtain a blank piece of paper [1]. 2) Tear, or cut, the paper into small pieces. 3) Upon each piece, write down a label for an element you wish to sort. Use one piece of paper for each and every element. 4) For mystical, or even pseudo-religious, effect you might wish to perform some sort of ceremony on the paper now. A song is usually good. A dance adds an extra air of authenticity [2]. 5) Place all of the pieces of paper into a hat, or other container. 6) One-by-one, remove each piece of paper, and form a line on a desk, or failing everything else, the floor. 7) Record the position of each item, hastily appending notation to the effect that you have just performed something rather scientific, perhaps even explaining away the song and dance routine, if you saw fit to perform either or both of them. In all actuality, if you are lucky enough, your efforts will have been observed by some invisible entity, which will have ordered those bits of paper for you, and may have sorted them into the correct order. Of course, if your luck if particularly bad, you may have encountered a largely evil entity who decided to completely jumble your work. Unfortunately, due to the nature of invisible entities, it is usually difficult to prove their existence, and you will therefore have to remain ignorant of this. Under the unlikely circumstances that you are able to prove the existence of the above, please write an article about it, and forward to the Guide, post-haste. [1] Or several, if required. [2] But don't overdo it. %e *EOA* %t Taco Moose %n 8U17 %s The Most Popular Fast-Food In The Universe %a Daniel J. Geduld (arken@bluemarble.net) %d 19961218 %x Fast Food %x Fossilised Hamburger Of St Albert, The %x Moose Watching %k Restaurants %k Fast-Food %k Grease %e Taco Moose Restaurants were founded millenia ago by Colonel Harlan MacDonald on a small planet in the Southern spiral arm of the galaxy. It has grown in popularity over the years as the chain has spread its stores throughout the universe. The fast-food establishment's specialty, the Taco Moose Soft-Shell Moose Taco, is made with the Colonel's Seven Secret Moose and Spices, real shredded Moose Meat, synthetic vegetables, and the secret special Moose sauce, all wrapped in a soft Moosey shell. All of this "Moosey Goodness", as the Colonel was fond of saying, has propelled Taco Moose into the number one slot of intergalactic fast-food franchises. The moose themselves are hand-reared on the planet Bulewenkel in the Crab Nebula and only the choicest cuts make it to the restaurants, which hardly matters as they are then dipped in 30-weight grease, fried for four hours, reprocessed, reconstituted, regurgitated and reflavoured, and then sold for a measly $0.98 to the consumer population. The latest Galactic Department of Health survey of the restaurant did not rate it highly. Along with the Taco Moose Soft-shell Moose Taco, the restaurant offers its special Back-Bacon Moose Fritters (the less said about these, the better) and Moose Cola which tastes as if someone has run a pair of old high-school gym clothes through a mulcher. In a word, avoid the Taco Moose establishments. We know they're popular; we know that there's a free toy inside every Moose Meal; we know that they have the $0.98 value menu; but we also know about botulism. Get the picture? %e *EOA* %t Booting, Origin Of The Word %n 9U3 %s Origin Of "Booting A Computer" %a Debbie Schwartz (das@coho.halcyon.com) * Found in alt.humor.best-of-usenet (originally alt.sysadmin.recovery) * by Roel van der Meulen (vdmeulen@strw.leidenuniv.nl) %d 19951220 %x Avoiding Computer Obsolescence %x Computer Jargon Made Easy %x Computer Malfunctions %x Computers, Earth %x Self-Destructing Computers %i Computer Terms, Booting %i Terminology: Booting * %k Computer %e Back in _my_ days, we didn't have handy dandy power cords and electrical outlets to plug them in to. We had to hand crank our computers to start them up. Lots of times the crank would stick, so you'd have to give it a good kick to get it loose. That's why, to this day, it's still called "booting" a computer. %e *EOA* %t Schroedinger's Dog %n 11U2 %s Should These People Be Allowed To Keep Animals? %a Aaron Rice (a.rice@ukonline.co.uk) %d 19961125 %i Dog, Schroedinger's %i Gary Schroedinger's Dog %x Schroedinger's Cat %e Gary Schroedinger, the lesser known brother of Erwin, for most of his life a builder, also managed to make his mark on history, though in a slightly different way. His problem was that his dog, when placed in a kennel in his back garden, would sleep quietly and happily during the day, and stay awake during the night. Because of this, at night his dog would roam around alone, bother strays, dig up the garden, flatten the plants, and generally just manage to be bothered by everything, bothering everyone back in return. In fewer words, he was a messy, noisy animal. Then, one night, Gary finally realised that he was totally unable to cope with this nocturnal bad behaviour, and after a rather angry neighbour threatened to poison his dog, he decided that something had to be done. First of all, he contacted his brother who, at first, was completely stumped. Erwin gave Gary a few ideas, most of which had been adapted from ideas to keep his cat from running away, and were admittedly quite effective [1]. A few of these ideas were to prove moderately effective, the first of which was to wake his dog continually during the day by throwing rocks at his kennel. This actually worked for about three days, until his dog finally caught on, and was to be found snuggling up in his master's bed, while Gary was outside in the cold, hurling boulders at an empty wooden box. Finally, he got to the point where he could take no more, and, dog in tow, he marched to the vets for advice. He was informed that his dog was a night animal, and there was very little he could do about it, unless he would subscribe to the one treatment programme that would be guaranteed to work. Gary told the vet he would do anything to sort out this problem that was by now driving him mad. And so finally the solution was found. The idea was that the dog would be placed on a flight to America and back leaving him, journey over, completely jet-lagged. This would have been entirely effective if the modern passenger aeroplane was available at the time, which it wasn't. Despairingly, Gary moved to the country, bought a couple more dogs, and gave up on civilisation. He still received the occasional letter from his brother, Erwin, but never anything to persuade him to return. Rumour has it that he's still out there somewhere; the oldest man on Earth. Even now, his dog is still remembered by the residents of his former village in an annual ceremony, and it is said that every year, a lonely old man will sit, throwing rocks at a dog kennel. [1] In exchange, Gary gave Erwin a number of his own notes, including some weird sadistic experiment involving a guinea pig, a box, and various other items that Gary was unable to acquire while going about his business. At his exchange, Erwin would laugh at his brother's inability to come up with anything even remotely scientific, while hastily scribbling the word "cat" onto his work. The rest, as they say, is history. %e *EOA* %t Bruce, Stuart %n 6U15 %s Stuart Robbie Heironymous Bruce, The Legend And The Lies %a Claire Senior (tigger@atomiser.demon.co.uk) %a Stuart Bruce (stuart@atomiser.demon.co.uk) %d 19970227 %x Pseudonym %x Stockport Grammar School, Stockport, England, UK, Earth %e Stuart Robbie Gerschwin Heironymous Billy Bruce was born on October 3rd, 1827, by an immaculate conception between a sacrificially-burnt copy of Mary Shelley's _Frankenstein_ and a potato. He lay undiscovered in a small cave somewhere in the depths of deepest Yorkshire for the next one hundred and fifty-one years, until a small group of peasant farmers on holiday from the nearby village of Stockport found his poor and weeping form, and had the kind heart to bring him into their community. Since then, Stuart Robbie Gerschwin Sigmund Heironymous Phil David Augustus Billy 'Frogman' Bruce has grown to be eagerly known and mostly hated by one and all. He remains a man of little build and barely any weight, clocking up a mere 5'7" in height (he stresses that this is about 170cm for taller American people) and less than nine stone in weight mass density/volume molecular containment size small. The following is an extract from an forthcoming bestselling autobiography, "My Life Will Be More Interesting If You Give Me Money By Buying This Book". Unfortunately the passage bears no relation to the life of Stuart Robbie Gerschwin Bunter Bouncer Sigmund 'Magic Beans' Heironymous Paul Peter George Ringo David Augustus Billy 'Frogman' Cliff Mitchell Stuart Bruce. Given birth to, as I was, by a woman, was to make my existence unbearably difficult from the outset. My life began in 1975 in a small shared bed-sit in the slums of Grimethorpe, an area known for its dark nights and walking people. At that time, there'd been a lot of commotion about the concept of giving birth in general -- the view that it was a deviancy of nature and the work of the devil was widely held amongst the residents of the small mining village that was to be my home for the next 86 years. Consequently, when I was born, my mother and father, so horrified at the prospect of being cast out by the rest of the village, referred to me, for the first sixteen years of my life as "the cat." As if this was not psychologically disturbing enough, they threw me out of the window every morning to perform my ablutions -- an unfortunate action since we lived on the third floor. On my sixteenth birthday it was decided that I could come out of hiding and be given a proper name. And so I was christened Arnold Kettering -- a fact which has confused me ever since, for my father's surname was Tompkinson. 1992 arrived exactly a year after 1991 had arrived and with it I found a job and, more importantly, a girlfriend whose name was Amanda. Unfortunately, Amanda didn't share my views on genital wallpapering and there was a nasty split between us several weeks later. It was at that time that I took an overdose. However, since it was only an overdose of red wine gums, my health remained unaffected. I spent the next sixty years of my life repeating the word "cloud" over and over again in a German accent. In 2052 _nobody_ could deny that my life had been one of tedium and little else, and it was then that I shot myself in the head. I died later that minute and was given a pauper's funeral in my home town of Grimethorpe. I was a very nice man, if not ever so slightly mentally insane. %e *EOA* %t Hell, A Tourist's Guide %n 12U1 %s Go To Hell %a Aaron Rice (a.rice@ukonline.co.uk) %d 19970124 %x Hell %e The Intergalactic Tourist Board recently listed the state of Hell as "A third class accommodation area". "It is poor, smelly, and much too hot," it continued. But can this possibly be true? The state is pretty large, surrounded by rocks and is a sort-of vaguely round shape. The current population is into the billion level and still rising. As the population grows the space doesn't expand, and so the population density gradually increases. Rather like rush hour in London. Hell has no major exports except for a degree of heat that it inadvertently expels. There is nothing to buy there, housing is minimal and most people live "outside". There is little in the way of entertainment and visitors are advised to bring their own pub, club or cinema. It is categorically _not_ a place of education. When you arrive here you cannot expect to learn anything of value, and in this respect, it is very similar to the average English secondary school. The spoken language varies and does so on a regular basis. People usually speak in screams and yells and you will occasionally feel compelled to join in. It will seem perfectly natural. There is much crime in Hell, mainly due to the level of tourism recently. Since there is nothing to steal from the residents, it has been noted that crime will fall to a zero level during the off-peak season. It would be advisable to go at this time, except for the fact that if everyone takes that advice it will then become a high-crime season, and your advantage will be lost. As far as anyone can tell Hell has been there forever. There hasn't really been any big effort to catalogue its history. Others who've made a half-hearted attempt have concluded that to see what it used to look like, just see what it looks like now; it never changes. To get to Hell, go to your local church and ask for a contact number/address for the opposition. Alternatively, consult your local phone directory, or even the Yellow Pages and look for "Satan". Bookings can be made right up to the time of departure and it is rarely necessary to find a cancellation, indeed it is often impossible. Do not bother to request superior accommodation as it does not exist. Upon arrival you might wish you had brought some summer ware, sunglasses, etc. Also, it is advisable to take as much skin protection cream as possible and apply most of it before you go. So, the next time someone tells you to go to Hell, why not try it! %e *EOA* %t Law Of Gravity, The %n 6U16 %s The Age-Old Law %a Aaron Rice (a.rice@ukonline.co.uk) %d 19970206 %x Gravity %x Antigravity, The Feline Butterology Theory %i Gravity, The Law Of %e This law was passed after a referendum many years ago, when many people got fed up of their property floating around all over the place. A grand committee was set up which recommended the introduction of a primitive system of gravitational forces to be gradually introduced into "test" sectors of the universe. The committee voted by an overwhelming majority that these gravitational franchises should be run by separate universal corporations, who would institute charges (the gravity tax), in order to maintain the service profitably. These franchises were bought by three main companies: the Universal Gravitational Corporation (UGC), the Corporeal Reactive Attraction Partnership (CRAP), GravityWatch, and SPIN. The latter of these two were eventually bought out by the South West Water Board, after they realised that without the advantage of gravitational attraction, they would quickly go out of business. Of course, this is all something we take for granted. The former franchises have now amalgamated into the Gravity Organisational Department (GOD), who then embarked on a massive operation of acquiring many of the other privatised natural resources, and forming a virtual monopoly. %e *EOA* %t Einstein, Albert, The Non-Existence Of %n 8U18 %s It Was All A Lie %a Aaron Rice (a.rice@ukonline.co.uk) %d 19970209 %x Alternate Universes %x Light, Space, Time, And Imagination %i Joseph, Sir Godfrey, The Creator Of Albert Einstein %i Albert Einstein, The Non-Existance Of %i Non-Existance Of Albert Einstein %e At the height of scientific confusion, Albert Einstein was created to explain all the mysteries of man. Unfortunately his creator, Sir Godfrey Joseph, killed him off before he managed to answer everything, and despite his "resurrection" two years later, people were rather less inclined to believe in a walking-talking fictional corpse. His "return from the dead" was only covered by a couple of small local newspapers, and then only because there were no tree-bound cats that week. Many of "Einstein"'s theories were the product of Sir Godfrey's notorious illegal late-night drinking sessions with his chums at the local pub, and what can only be described as a deranged imagination. Unfortunately, he was so good at his work that everyone totally believed everything he wrote, and still do to this day. In addition to this, other papers have shown that more great philosophers, inventors, and people generally regarded to have made a massive contribution to society, were also created from the deranged imaginations of various little-known members of the nobility of past centuries. Why, you may ask, did they do this? Well, speculation veers towards the theory that they were bored and had nothing else to do. However, a few of them, most notably Lord Walter Smithers, were also very interested in grabbing poor people off the streets, and burying them under a mound of concrete [1]. He still had time, however, to create the great Leonardo DaVinci. It was unfortunate that Sir Godfrey died two days before his creation was presented with an achievement award. He has, to this day, remained uncredited for his work. [1] In this, he was the first of many. %e *EOA* %t Santa Claus, The Privatisation Of %n 8U19 %s Don't You Wish You Were Part Of It? %a Aaron Rice (a.rice@ukonline.co.uk) %d 19970212 %x Santa Claus, Existence Of %i Privatisation Of Santa Claus %i Claus, Santa, The Privatisation Of %e Since last year's privatisation of Santa Claus, and the introduction of competition into the traditional Christmas presents service, a report has been produced by the government's Winter Seasonal Advisory Committee. The report recommends the following: 1) A second Christmas be introduced in the middle of the year; 2) Competition opened up to allow gas, electric, and water companies to tender bids for the remaining eight regional Santa monopolies, currently still controlled by the government; 3) The separation of Santa Claus Plc [1] and "The Grotto", allowing presents to be obtained from any, ie. the cheapest, manufacturer; 4) Deregulation and reduced regulation of any remaining monopolies to remove "restrictive" cost impositions, including: a) The reduction of the value of presents-to-deliver from twenty per cent of income to five per cent of income; and b) The abolition of timing restraints that unnecessarily restricted delivery of presents to a few tight hours on the morning of the twenty-fifth; and 5) The removal of all that "fiddly" public accountability. The government is expected to accept the report, after in-depth discussion of the pros and cons, next week in a two minute meeting. [1] Public Limited Company. Basically a company owned by limited-liability shareholders. The shares may be traded publicly. %e *EOA* %t Brushing Teeth %n 8U20 %s Earth's Decay Due To Lack Of Dental Hygiene %a Freddie Orispaa (forispaa@black.clarku.edu) %d 19960402 %x Earth %x Dentist, The %i Dental Hygiene %i Teeth, Brushing %e Earth is currently in a sad state of affairs. Its inhabitants are a confused bunch, worrying about such pettinesses as death, money, the lack of towels, and even the obscure concept of what is referred to on Earth as "fun". Earthlings, having discovered television, digital watches, video games, and other distracting forms of entertainment, have lost their identity because they no longer spend time thinking about life, death, and other more important matters. Bloody wars are fought, famine and disease rule the poorer countries, the legal system is failing, and even a country such as the U.S.A., having an image of opportunity, equality, and freedom, has millions of homeless, whilst more and more money is pumped into the military, even in times of peace. The reason for this is that the importance of brushing teeth has been lost long ago. In the past, when brushing teeth was considered an important event, people spent an average of three hours a day practicing dental hygiene. Most often this took place in front of a mirror. Three hours a day, moving your hand back and forth, whilst looking at yourself in a mirror led to intense self-evaluation and reflection on life. Famous philosophers of the time were often inspired by brushing teeth, leading to such great works as "My Teeth, My Soul," "Semiotics, Transcendentalism, and Plaque," and the famous quote "I brush, therefore I am," which was later plagiarized by Descartes. However, the balanced lifestyle of those times was lost after the great King Gerbil of Phoenicia died of old age. It has been an endless downward spiral of decay and lost values for Earth since then. The story of King Gerbil of Phoenicia is not well known. He was perhaps the greatest person to live on the planet Earth, second only to Ronald Reagan, his predecessor. Both Kings realized that the secret to a well-balanced life and self-reflection lay in brushing teeth. Sadly, Ronald Reagan's reputation and existence was wiped out by the second Ronald Reagan, who once was president of the U.S.A., Earth. He purposefully eliminated all historical traces of the earlier one, to avoid comparisons which would have inevitably led to his lynching. King Gerbil taught people the true value of brushing teeth. It was he who established the College for Teeth, the International Committee for Dental Care, and the much-respected Twenty Brushings Sunday which occurred every Thursday. Sadly, his death came abruptly, and no successor had been trained to value the importance of brushing teeth. King Hatatuti, a clever politician and nephew to King Gerbil, proclaimed himself King. Sadly, he was not aware of the importance of brushing teeth, and did not continue King Gerbil's ideologies. In fact, King Hatatuti closed down the much-respected Institute for Dental Awareness, because he felt it was an unnecessary government office. This office was the center of King Gerbil's dental programs, and after its closing, most other dental offices, due to lack of government funding, soon went bankrupt. King Hatatuti's changes slowly led to a decrease in brushing teeth. Although his intentions were good, the results were disastrous. Now that there wasn't as much hype about brushing teeth, people began to do other things instead, such as playing games and watching criminals get eaten by lions in arenas. Thus they stopped being as introspective as before, and over the course of the following generations, people became confused. This led to people seeking meaning in external things, as opposed to internal speculation. Wars arose, Fascist leaders who forced their beliefs on others were favored, and people began to prefer being guided as opposed to finding their own beliefs. As said, since the death of King Gerbil, the world has been losing its moral values and communal integrity in a downward spiral. Should your travels take you to the planet Earth, make sure you bring along plenty of toothbrushes and toothpaste. Should you run into any trouble with the locals, pass them out, and your aggressors should soon calm down and brush their teeth. The theory is that their ancient history is still embedded in their subconscious, and if you manage to tap into that they may realize that brushing their teeth is far more important than capturing an alien. %e *EOA* %t Santa Claus, The Early Years %n 8U21 %s How It All Began %a Aaron Rice (a.rice@ukonline.co.uk) %d 19970217 %x Santa Claus, Existence Of %x Santa Claus, The Privatisation Of %i Early Years Of Santa Claus %i Claus, Santa, The Early Years %i Stephen Claus-Santana, The Early Years %i Free Gifts, The Beginning Of %e Inexperience tends to be the initial problem when anybody partakes in a new job. This is especially true when the job, itself, is completely new; the problem being that there hasn't even been anyone to test the metaphorical water, before another is asked to take a huge dive into it. Mr Stephen Claus-Santana was no exception. On the advice of his late wife, Margaret, he applied to the newly set up International Generosity Committee for the new, and therefore currently vacant, position of present distributer. This title was later amended to Public Distributer of Gifts, though it was later slang-titled "Mr Freebies". It was because of his new position and status, and the progressive increase in his personal fortune, that he moved from his quiet two-bedroomed flat in Hamburg, and bought himself a little castle somewhere outside Paris. This was the first step in a property chain that would take him to his final location, and eventual resting place, in Lapland. His arrogance increased, of course. Hiring more and more people to do more and more of his work, he began to believe he had a divine right to do what-the-hell he liked. It was at this point that he formally changed his name to Santana (later, Santa) Claus. Investment soared, and he managed to extend his empire across three-quarters of the world. The popularity of the service he offered was soon recognised as absolutely essential in the modern world, and a fantastic way of controlling unruly children, who would otherwise have run riot. Possibly, the last act he performed in consultation with his advisers, was to formally move to force his existence into the realms of rumour and fiction. Not an easy task with such a grand well-known public figure [1]. Shortly after this, his helpers were required to sign a portion of the Official Secrets Act, and all physical signs of Santa and Co., were obliterated from public view. Christmas continued, of course, but the people forgot... [1] Though not as impossible as you might think. A simple documentary on television, showing how it is theoretically possible to simulate the physical appearance of any individual, coupled with the confessions of his so-called "closest friends and family" to the effect that they were "living a lie" could cause the general public to change their minds. %e *EOA* %t Immortality, What To Do When You Have Acquired %n 8U22 %s You've Got Nothing To Do And Eternity To Do It In %a Jeff Hillary (skip4@airmail.net) %d 19970317 %i What To Do When You Have Acquired Immortality %i Eternity, Things To Do During %x Boredom %x Arguments, Infinitely Prolonging %x Time Travel %k Life %k Eternity %k Immortality %e So, you've acquired eternal life? Sounded like a good thing at the time, didn't it? But after a while things started to get boring. Your friends all died, and whenever you have to show a cop your driver's license (because all creatures like a little intergalactic game of high speed bumper cars) you are put in jail for producing a fake driver's permit ("Date Of Birth: 1001"). Those of you who are not immortal are probably wondering how you can acquire immortality. Well, it is very difficult. First: don't die (this is the hardest part). Then, after you are through not dying, go to the Kurt Manning Laboratory for the Criminally Insane, and tell them you want to be immortal. After you wake up and find your wallet missing, just live life to its eternity. Well, now that you have all of eternity, here is a list of things you can do. If you aren't immortal, and are just reading this because you are bored, you can try some of them as well. 1) Become a Field Researcher for the PGG. You stand an excellent chance of keeping your job, and after everyone else working there has died of old age, you might get to be in charge because you will be the most experienced. 2) Paint an entire planet like a giant mural. It is time consuming, and could become fun after a while; imagine a planet with a portrait of yourself painted on it. 3) Learn every language in the Universe. Why not, it isn't like you don't have the time to do it. 4) Create a time machine and go back in time to either become your own father, or better yet, keep yourself away from whatever gave you immortality in the first place. 5) Put a few Altairian Dollars in a bank account and forget about it for a few years, then return in 245,807,567 years, and buy the whole universe, and make all the brainy scientists find a way to cure immortality. 6) Make a list of things to do when you have acquired immortality. Then send it to me [1]. [1] As you can see, I _haven't_ acquired immortality... yet. %e *EOA* %t Golf Ball, Successive Layers Within A %n 9U4 %s How They Are Constructed %a The Grand Clavister (clavis@ix.netcom.com) %d 19970429 %i Successive Layers Within A Golf Ball %i Layers Within A Golf Ball %k Golf %k Ball %k Sport %e The outer shell of the golf ball is inevitably a thin layer of plastic, dimpled to provide aeronautical sympthasis [1] and usually imprinted with the name of a local politician. This plastic, actually an incredibly tough composite of aluminum, fiberglass and ceramic tiling, is inevitably cast in a simple and dignified white. The few golf balls that are not white are usually not golf balls, but government listening devices and radio transmitters [2]. Early in golf's history, golf balls were sewn from cloth and filled with straw, or composed of tightly-packed soil. For obvious reasons, neither construction has lasted to the present day. Within this layer of unassuming plastic lies the first of three rubber sheaths. Each sheath has been tested for impenetrability to a force of 3,000 lbs per square inch (in metric terms, that's almost 75.375 hectares per photon), and the molecular structure of each sheath prevents the passage of static charge, moisture, and even magnetic pulses! Beneath the first sheath, a coating of Firmolon(tm) oil oozes securely throughout its stratum. Firmolon is a space-age emulsion designed to expand and solidify upon puncture of the outer casing, thus protecting the golf ball's inner levels from exposure to the outside world (and vice-versa). According to laboratory tests, a single golf ball can withstand up to 200 millimeter-diameter punctures before the oil is exhausted. But Firmolon can only remain properly viscous between 40 and 70 degrees Fahrenheit (that's between 6 and 800 degrees Centigrade). The oil is therefore subordinated by a lead-grey jacket of hydranium. Hydranium is a radioproactive metal alloy that maintains a constant internal temperature of 57 degrees Fahrenheit (or 9 degrees Centigrade) and ensures that the sealant can do its job under any meteorological condition! Underneath the hydranium is a "wrapping" of thin but taut plastic coils. These coils, designed to spread the impact of a golf club throughout their length, and thus providing the golf ball with its distinctive "dead man's spin" are, when uncoiled, almost seven miles (that's over 500 angstroms for the metrically-dependent) in length! These coils are also capable of recording the kinetic history of a golf ball along their length, preserving every bounce, stroke and "hole" for up to ten years. One wonders who is rich enough to play back these recordings? But let's move on! Beneath the coil "mantle" is the second rubber sheath, and under that is a magnetic suspension projector array. You see, the multiple layers of compacted and concentrated materials within a golf ball would normally bring the ball's weight up to almost ten pounds (that's 5.715 cubits for our friends in the godless European Alliance). So the projector array is needed to "hang" the golf ball securely within the magnetic field of the Earth, removing the vast majority of the ball's net mass and weight and, incidentally, providing the golf ball with the ability to go "hog wild" (remaining motionless in the air for almost ten seconds and then racing, ferret-like, for the nearest hole) when struck at precisely the right angle. The array surrounds a layer of delicious chewing gum, inserted into every ball as a tribute to Hevi MacHinery, the man who first conceived of the modern golf ball. Hevi supposedly constructed the first golf ball in 1769 and, lacking the technical skill necessary to produce extruded rubber, filled most of the inside of his balls with his own used chewing gum. Despite the absurdity of this practice, Hevi shot a hole-in-one every game of his life, and there isn't a golfer today who isn't willing to deal with a bit of chewing gum if it means duplicating old MacHinery's luck with a ball! Within the gooey, disgusting gum layer, is a razor-thin but crucial film of pure gold. This film is necessary in that it is the only material capable of holding back the layer underneath: the picovirus. Picoviruses are dangerous subatomic bacteria that feed on the energy inherent in all living matter, and it is likely that these li'l nasties are the cause of many a tale of "antimatter in golf balls". After all, any living tissue exposed to a picovirus would quickly be consumed and would degenerate into formless glop. Fortunately, the golf ball picovirus can only live for a few minutes in the open air (nitrogen being toxic to them). When the golf ball is struck by a speeding club, the outer layer of picoviruses absorb the shock and are destroyed, at which point the nearby specimens eat their deceased neighbors and quickly grow to fill the void. Despite the biohazard, no nonliving material on Earth is as capable of withstanding repeated impact as a generous helping of hungry (and resilient) picoviruses! Holding back the greedy bacteria is the third and final sheath of rubber, and within that sheath is the heart of every true golf ball. For those who have always wondered where the word "golf" came from, the answer lies within: a fragment of the interstellar champion-demon "G'oll'ph" (not his real name), a shred of his/her/us/its destroyed-yet-somehow-still-alive remains, a tiny but essential scrap of the brain-genital-carapace of this ancient athletic diety-ace spends an eternity within the walls of a tiny sphere of sports paraphernalia. This being came to our world during the reign of the ancient Greek gods: through a long and tortuous battle (during which, alas, G'oll'ph took the losing side of the Titans), he was captured and punished with an eternity within "the dented eggs of sport", as Hermes (the inventor of the game) called them. In ironic dedication to the creature encased in each ball, Hermes called them "G'oll'ph balls", and scattered them throughout the world. Later, the story goes, a Titan named Xixi gathered the balls and bequeathed them to a family living in what would later be known at Scotland. The story gets complicated at this point, going into great detail about the Titan's relationship with his "club" and his "bag", but that's the Greeks for you. In any case, it is the tiny fragment of this doomed and tortured Godling that allows any genuine golf ball to fit within the spiritual format of a game. And it is, perhaps, fitting that, at the center of any golf ball, just as at the root of any golf game, there is a compact nugget of terrible pain and degradation. [1] Combining "sympathy" and "synthesis", thus creating a word that evokes rather than explains. [2] An obscure but rigid federal law requires these devices to be "easily visible", but not easily recognizable, resulting in vividly concealed electronic subterfuge. %e *EOA* %t Big Red Panel, The %n 9U5 %s The Highlight Of The Zzzzwuchh Sector %a Kristian Kirsfeldt (noonius@netexpress.ee) %d 19970517 %x Earth %i Red Panel, The Big %i Panel, The Big Red %i Sector, Big Red Panel %i Zzzzwuchh Sector, The %k Panel %k Red %k Space %e If you happen to travel some light years from the place where once existed the planet Earth, you should encounter a very loosely inhabited sector. The name of the sector is long forgotten, mainly because of its loose inhabitants, and the fact that the loose inhabitants haven't done very much space travelling during the last few centuries and getting to know their sector's name from other space-travellers. If you then, by a curious mistake, happen to enter this sector, you will soon find out why it is, amongst experienced hitch-hikers, named as "The Big Red Panel" Sector or the, unpronounceable, "Zzzzwuchh" Sector. As expected, not long after you have entered the area, you will encounter a Big Red Panel. Shining like a Christmas tree, big as a class-B3 red supernova. Yes, that's it; now you know what's responsible for the name! This panel bares the words "Enough of blue". Below the text is drawn the huge red "Zzzzwuchh," the unpronounceable product. The panel is so enormous, that the native inhabitants of nearby planets think it's a big star gone nova and write their astronomical charts based upon it. Having seen this thing and thought to yourself, "Gee, what a big red thing that Zzzzwuchh is," you will probably need to have a drink. So, you land on a nearby planet, go to a flat ill-decorated bar that bears the words "Zzzzwuchh, the original unpronounceable product" on it's roof, and get yourself a glass of beer. Then, you'll probably kick off your "shitsmacker"-type marine sandals and have a nice time. Probably, in fact almost very likely, some native will come and start to tell you the history of this Big Red Panel, yelling at the same time to the bartender to bring some more beer. So, as you listen, you will soon realise that the history of the Big Red Panel is very colourful. Some tell stories of many flying sea-gulls crashing into a Big Red Firestorm, and most can even recount that a spice freighter the size of a small rocky planet orbiting the star O'o'ou, was seen to crash into it. Neither the spice freighter, nor it's pilot, have been seen since then. The next thing you will probably hear is the old song that was made to comfort the Old Red God. It is then customary to buy some little bric-a-brac, shaped like a Small Red Panel, with blurry letters "Enough of blue" printed on it, and leave the bar. Standing in front of the bar, taking a few deep breaths and looking up, you will see the looming Red Nova among the stars. As you gaze up you wonder, why does this place remind you of all the other places you've ever been to? Only sights, people and pubs change. Most often the pubs, but in the people there is still an eerie consistency. %e *EOA* %t Reality %n 9U6 %s What Is It? %a Darren Long (long.spike@virgin.net) %d 19970518 %x Insane, How Do You Prove You Are Not? %x Reality Alteration %x Reality Crossovers %i Defining Reality %k Reality %k Philosophy %e Reality can be a difficult topic to get your head round. This is one of the fundamental problems that philosophers have tried to solve since philosophers first philosophised. Of course, doubts arising from an inexact understanding of the true nature of reality do not concern all living creatures. Some seem content to carry on their presumed existence without ever stopping to worry about whether or not they actually exist; this might seem to be a complete waste of time to those who are not properly following this topic, but this point of view can be shown to be logically false. The concept of reality can, and should, be split up into three critical sub-divisions, which can help us analyse the whole thing more effectively. These are: Consensus Realities =================== This is the reality that concerns us in everyday survival mode, assuming that you are not currently being: abducted by aliens; having your blood sucked out of your body by a vampire; or flying unassisted over Stanstead Airport in your dressing gown. This is also the reality that is generally accepted by entities that have not come to terms with their own possible non-existence. Consensus reality is just what it sounds like. If you are accused of insanity, your best bet is to try to demonstrate an understanding of your accusers version of consensus reality and act within their limitations of acceptable behaviour. Discussions of advanced technologies and threats to Galactic security are best not entered into, in most backward civilisations, under these circumstances. Consensus reality can change so fast you really have a tough time keeping up with it. This phenomenon "Consensus Reality Drift" (CRD), exists in all spatial and temporal dimensions, so you have to keep your wits about you. Examples of typical consensus reality beliefs are: 1) The flat world paradigm. 2) The spherical world paradigm. 3) The Newtonian physics paradigm. 4) The Relativistic physics paradigm. 5) The Quantum Physics paradigm. Non-Ordinary Realities ====================== There are more of these than there are Consensus Realities. This is because of the fact that many sentient entities are obliged to comply with consensus reality models during their existence but employ temporary (quite normally) or permanent (getting tricky) additional paradigms (or reality tunnels) in order to explain certain unusual, paranormal, phenomena. Examples of these are: 1) Alien abduction scenarios. 2) Out Of Body Experiences (OOBEs). 3) Talking to God. Alternative Realities ===================== Who knows how many fully fledged alternative realities exist. Coping with one is probably enough for most people, but to indulge in more would put you at risk in any Committal proceeding. Most adoptees of any completely alternative reality will soon find themselves in difficulty if attempting to participate in any meaningful relationship with proponents of consensus reality. One interesting point to note is that it is theoretically possible for an alternative reality adoptee to also adopt a temporary non-ordinary reality model in order to coincide with the local consensus reality, thus fooling everyone including themselves. Examples of Alternative Realities are: 1) The Universal Conspiracy, i.e. everything is out to get me. 2) The stupid model, i.e. nothing is out to get me. 3) The Far Out model, like, wow man. 4) The Buddhist model, (very intricate and confusing). 5) Consensus reality. Conclusion ========== Reality is a complicated subject. A human called Robert Anton Wilson once advised his readers to "not believe completely in their own belief system and to not believe completely in anyone else's belief system." It remains unclear to this day whether anyone actually believed him. My advice to fellow travellers is to avoid thinking about reality at all and wait and see what it throws at you. That is if you actually exist! Go with the flow adopting local consensus realities and temporary non-ordinary realities as you determine to be good and proper in the circumstances. Perceptual ambiguities can be caused by any manifestation of a paranormal event if you are not currently attuned to the correct reality model, leaving you vulnerable to its effects. Tacit acceptance of all probable and improbable reality models, whilst outwardly showing awareness and understanding of the local consensus model combined with any prevailing non-ordinary realities, is one of the best strategies for coping with reality confusion. NB. Due to the philosophical problem of categorising reality as Real, Semi-real or Unreal, it is the authors suggestion that it be categorized as Unreal, pending further investigation. %e *EOA* %t Petite Cola %n 9U7 %s Cola With Attitide %a Luke A Meeken (bpmakira@juno.com) %d 19970428 %i Cola, Petite %x Jolt Cola %x Space Safe Coke Can %k Cola %k Drink %k Caffine %k Sugar %e Petite Cola is the trademark cola of all Veritech pilots! Its super-caffeinated, hyper-sugary flavor is enough to send any kid flying off the wall! Petite Cola is sold in bottles, cans, and barrels. You can find its vending machines all over the world, more specifically, Macross Island. If you can't find it, it will find you - this is because of the robotic vending machines that know when to make a deal. Here is a dialog recorded by one of our prospecting vending machines, that demonstrates the appeal of Petite Cola: Young Lady: We're going home. Jason (li'l boy): But I wanna cola! Young lady: Machine, cancel that order. No, Jason, you'll get sick! Jason: I DON'T CARE!!!! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!! I WANNA COLA!! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!! Young Lady: Hmph. %e *EOA* %t Food Conspiracy, The %n 12U2 %s EAT %a Aaron Rice (a.rice@ukonline.co.uk) %d 19970411 %i EAT %i Enhanced Appetite Tonic %i Appetite Tonic, Enhanced %i Tonic, Enhanced Appetite %i Increased Food Consumption %k Food %k Appetite %k Hunger %k Capitalism %k Conspiracy %e Ever wondered why, after eating a mass of food, you still feel inexplicably hungry? And then, with the consumption of more and more food, that hunger just grows, and is increasingly unquenched? It is possible that you have fallen victim to the marketer's latest development in the consumer war - the Enhanced Appetite Tonic (EAT). EAT was developed in a secret laboratory somewhere in central Illinois, USA, and leaked reports confirm that its initial trials are nearly completed; a precursor to USA- and eventually world-wide trials. Symptoms of the drug include increased appetite, and constant food consumption, culminating in sickness and bankruptcy. The only known cure is to avoid all food products containing the substance; a difficult task, considering the requirement for nutrition and the lack of detection. At the very least, this may go some way to explaining why I managed to consume so many loaves of bread during my visit. %e *EOA* %t Invisibility, Practising At Home %n 8U23 %s The Only How-To You'll Ever Need %a Christopher L. Moore (Zenn17@aol.com) %d 19970920 %x Light, Speed Of, Why It Is Finite %x Euro Disney, Marne-le-Vallee, France, Earth %x Alternate Universes %x Diddley-Squat %k Invisible %k Hiding %e Some people think that being invisible is a technical impossibility. Pish posh! Some people also think that they really may have "already won $1,000,000," so don't go listening to "Some people," as they are usually a shifty lot. Being invisible is wholly possible and relatively easy to do. Before we start, you'll need the following supplies: 1) A can of spray starch, 2) A match, and 3) A fire extinguisher. Although these things do not help you in any way to be invisible, they, when used in the proper sequence, can make a really big flame that may catch your house on fire [1]. Now, on with the steps to invisibility. First, be very still. When I say still, I do not mean standing in one place and whistling or something similarly silly, I mean you must still the movement of every particle of your body [2] through mental exercises. When this is completed, the sum of collective kinetic energy of every quark in your body should be roughly equal to the kinetic energy of a queue for Space Mountain at Disneyland in July during the operator's lunch break. After this is done, the rest is simple. As an anonymous field researcher once said, "Anything is simple, if you have plenty of spare time." The next step is to begin to accelerate each particle until its velocity is somewhere above light speed. Therefore, every bit of your being will be moving too fast [3] for anyone to actually see it, and thus be rendering you utterly invisible. While I still haven't perfected the art, or even become relatively invisible yet, I am fairly certain that, in theory, it should work. That, or your particles will get fed up with you telling them what to do and will abandon you, leaving you, as I like to say, "An Entity Equal To Zero", which, on the whole, is not a bad state to be in. Unless you are trying to enter a building with automatic doors. [1] Hence the extinguisher. [2] Watch for my forthcoming book, _Your Body and You: Commanding Your Particles_. [3] Really, really, really, really, really, really fast. %e *EOA* * * End of file: UREAL06.NEW * Share and Enjoy! *