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Yucks Digest V7 #1 (mixed lengths)
Yucks Digest Mon, 24 Feb 97 Volume 7 : Issue 1
Today's Topics:
...and at Purdue, too
Darwin Award Winners 1996
Iron Butterfly and the Speed of Light
KNOCK, KNOCK: How to dodge religious solicitors
Poor dying Billy...
Proof of God??!!
Quote of the day
Thermodynamics (ULOTD?)
The Star Wars Song Companion
UNIX the fungicide
What if Lt. Data Ran on Windows 95
A different set of the rules
The "Yucks" digest is a moderated list of the bizarre, the unusual,
the sometimes risque, the possibly insane, and the (usually) humorous.
It is issued on a semi-regular basis, as the whim and time present
themselves.
Back issues can be obtained via WWW as
<http://www.cs.purdue.edu/homes/spaf/yucks.html>; back issues and
subscriptions can be obtained using a mail server. Send mail to
"yucks-request@cs.purdue.edu" with a "Subject:" line of the single word
"help" for instructions.
Submissions and problem reports should be sent to spaf@cs.purdue.edu
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Date: Wed, 19 Feb 1997 16:45:32 -0500 (EST)
From: Rich Kulawiec <rsk@itw.com>
Subject: ...
To: dls@alecto.cc.purdue.edu (David L Stevens)
> Posted to purdue.general:
>
>>I desperately need a tutor for Personal finance and Animal Breeding.
"Well, it's like this. Breeding animals is really no problem -- give 'em
food 'n water, and just let nature take its course. But breeding
personal finances, well, that's 'nother thing entirely. Why, I remember
the great checkbook shortage of ought-six like it was just yesterday,
even the part where the herds of passbook saving accounts...." [tape runs out]
------------------------------
Date: Wed, 19 Feb 1997 11:50:57 -0600
From: Werner Uhrig <werner@ddg.com>
Subject: Darwin Award Winners 1996
To: The Humour Mill <friends-of-wru@hipark.austin.isd.tenet.edu>
[forwarded]...
You may recall last year's Darwin Award winner: The man who found out
moments before making a 300 MPH dent in an Arizona cliff that the JATO (jet
assist take off) unit he'd strapped to his car could not be turned off once
it was turned on.
Darwin Awards are (by definition) granted posthumously. This citation is
bestowed upon (the remains of) that individual, who through single-minded
self-sacrifice, has done the most to remove undesirable elements from the
human gene pool.
The 1996 nominees are:
[San Jose Mercury News] An unidentified man, using a shotgun like a club to
break a former girlfriend's windshield, accidentally shot himself to death
when the gun discharged, blowing a hole in his gut.
[Hickory Daily Record 12/21/92] Ken Charles Barger, 47, accidentally shot
himself to death in December in Newton, N.C., when, awakening to the sound
of a ringing telephone beside his bed, he reached for the phone but grabbed
instead a Smith &Wesson .38 Special, which discharged when he drew it to
his ear.
[Reuters, Mississauga, Ontario] Man slips, falls 23 stories to his death.
A man cleaning a bird feeder on his balcony of his condominium apartment in
this Toronto suburb slipped and fell 23 stories to his death, police said
Monday. Stefan Macko, 55, was standing on a wheeled chair Sunday when the
accident occurred, said Inspector D'Arcy Honer of the Peel regional police.
"It appears the chair moved and he went over the balcony," Honer said.
"It's one of those freak accidents. No foul play is suspected."
[UPI, Toronto] Police said a lawyer demonstrating the safety of windows in
a downtown Toronto skyscraper crashed through a pane with his shoulder and
plunged 24 floors to his death. A police spokesman said Garry Hoy, 39,
fell into the courtyard of the Toronto Dominion Bank Tower early Friday
evening as he was explaining the strength of the building's windows to
visiting law students. Hoy previously had conducted demonstrations of
window strength according to police reports. Peter Lauwers, managing
partner of thefirm Holden Day Wilson, told the Toronto Sun newspaper that
Hoy was "one of the best and brightest" members of the 200-man association.
[AP, Cairo, Egypt, 31 Aug 1995 CAIRO, Egypt (AP)] Six people drowned Monday
while trying to rescue a chicken that had fallen into a well in southern
Egypt. An 18-year-old farmer was the first to descend into the 60-foot
well. He drowned, apparently after an undercurrent in the water pulled him
down, police said. His sister and two brothers, none of whom could swim
well, went in one by one to help him, but also drowned. Two elderly
farmers then came to help, but they apparently were pulled by the same
undercurrent. The bodies of the six were later pulled out of the well in
the village of Nazlat Imara, 240 miles south of Cairo. The chicken was
also pulled out. It survived.
[Times of London] A thief who sneaked into a hospital was scarred for life
when he tried to get a suntan. After evading security staff at Odstock
Hospital in Salisbury, Wiltshire, and helping himself to doctor's paging
devices, the thief spotted a vertical sunbed. He walked into the unit and
removed his clothes for a 45-minute tan. However, the high-voltage UV
machine at the hospital, which is renowned for its treatment of burns
victims, has a maximum dosage of 10 seconds. After lying on the bed for
almost 300 times the recommended maximum time, the man was covered in
blisters. Hours later, when the pain of the burns became unbearable, he
went to Southampton General Hospital, 20 miles away, in Hampshire. Staff
became suspicious because he was wearing a doctor's coat. After tending
his wounds they called the police. Southampton police said: "This man
broke into Odstock and decided he fancied a quick suntan. Doctors say he
is going to be scarred for life.
------------------------------
Date: Wed, 19 Feb 97 13:37:24 -0800
From: Peter Langston <psl@langston.com>
Subject: Iron Butterfly and the Speed of Light
To: Fun_People@langston.com
[Is this a bit more fuel for the discussion of whether mathematicians are
subject to sudden, unexpected outbursts of self-destructiveness? -psl]
Forwarded-by: mis@seiden.com
From: Scott Wyant <scott_wyant@loop.com>
By strange coincidence, today's [2/18/97? -psl] LA Times features a story
about a "software developer and one-time bassist for Iron Butterfly" who
has gone missing under surpassingly weird circumstances. I won't even try
to paraphrase it here, but he was supposedly "near a breakthrough on a set
of theoretical math worked out with his father that could make it possible
to transmit information -- and matter -- faster than the speed of light."
Oh, and he had a "secret" level Federal security clearance. Whew.
Anyway, his family has a website at <www.amci.com/missing>, and the Times
article in question is on their web page,
<http://www.latimes.com/HOME/NEWS/STATE/t000015224.html>
Scott Wyant
scott_wyant@loop.com
[My favorite line is, ``despite the dizzying math that seemed at times
to obsess him beyond reason, Kramer was not the suicidal type...''
-- dm]
[This was on the WWW pages for him:
F.Y.I.- Philip Taylor Kramer is the former bass
player for "Iron Butterfly." He also is an
accomplished computer expert with a background in
Nuclear Weaponry, Guidance Systems, Motion
Detectors, Data Compression /decompression and
Fractal Image technology.
Right. --spaf]
------------------------------
Date: Tue, 18 Feb 97 18:42:15 -0800
From: Peter Langston <psl@langston.com>
Subject: KNOCK, KNOCK: How to dodge religious solicitors
To: Fun_People@langston.com
Forwarded-by: Fressola@aol.com
[The following article almost makes me sorry to live in the back of the
building, where only the most intrepid solicitors of any stripe can find me.]
========================================================
KNOCK, KNOCK: How to dodge religious solicitors
by Brad Whittington, from "The Door",
an "emerged zine for Christians with attitude."
Republished in Utne Reader #74, Mar/Apr 1996
It's Saturday morning when, suddenly, you hear a knock at the door.
Everyone you know is either hung over or cleaning house. They all know
better than to attempt any contact with you before noon anyway. It can only
be one thing. Religious canvassers. Actually, that's two things, since,
like snakes, they travel in pairs. You peek out the window, expecting to see
two kids who look like IBM recruits.
Instead, you see a pudgy old lady in a faded print dress, attended by a
skinny teenage girl with stringy hair and more freckles than a trout. The
girl glances nervously at the slit in the curtain and quickly looks away.
Girl Scout cookies? Raffle tickets? Opening the door out of curiosity, you
become the proud owner of a copy of their tract. It was the girl who fooled
you. You never figured they'd bring a kid along. You rack your brains for
some gracious means of escape, making a silent resolution that next time
you'll follow your instinct to stand motionless in the middle of the living
room hoping that protect coloration will render you invisible.
Rack your brains no longer! After years of similar experiences, I have
developed several techniques for turning those agonizing encounters into
hours of entertainment. Here are just a few of the great techniques you can
use:
1. Listen for a minute or two with a polite but puzzled expression and then
speak in a foreign language. Better yet, make one up. Brand names for
electronic components serve as an excellent base for an impromptu language.
I've found the following bit to be an excellent opener: "Fritzen mitsuba
micht sony leam spartinza. Nakamichi shpont olufsen takamine. Cheloken
eraza fleecht?"
2. Before you open the door, put on a pair of Grouch glasses and pour some
Pine Sol in a coffee cup. Then attempt to engage them in a serious debate,
spreading Pine Sol fumes by blowing occasionally into the cup as if you are
cooling it. See how long you can hold them. Try to remember not to drink
out of the cup.
3.Pretend to be deaf. Point to your ears, shake your head, and make
intricate movements your fingers and hands. This can backfire if they happen
to know sign language. In that case, switch to being blind.
4. Interrupt every sentence with a long, rambling, and totally pointless
story. Try to work in your latest medical difficulty, especially if it
involved surgery or hemorrhoids. Other topics to touch on are flatulent
dogs, copy-machine repairmen,spatulas, hypoallergenic deodorants, mah-jongg,
asbestos, persistent nose hair, 900-number psychic lines, and genetically
engineered vegetables. Extra points if you can get three or more of these
topics into one sentence.
5. Tell them you are a druid. This is much more convincing if you live in
an oak grove and paint yourself blue.
6. Ask them if they are from the health board about the hepatitis
quarantine. Offer them a sip of your coffee.
7. Offer them $25 to talk to your neighbors instead. Give them the money in
loose pennies.
8. Tell them you are not allowed to talk to strangers until the assault case
has come to trial. More effective if you come to the door with a knife or a
baseball bat.
9. Insist that you graduated from high school with them. In an effort to
jog their memory, recount various escapades you joined them in. Refuse to be
dissuaded from this conviction. This is more effective if thee is a dramatic
difference in your ages.
10. Using a cordless phone, call someone you haven't talked to for a while.
Then go to the door and make gestures like you'll only be a minute. See how
long they'll stay. My best record is 10 minutes.
[One that worked for me is to fix them with a bleary gaze and enquire
"Do you folks sacrifice small children and pets as part of your religion?"
In response to the horrified "No!" I'd tell them I wasn't interested then,
and shut the door. It kept them away for nearly two years... --spaf]
------------------------------
Date: Wed, 19 Feb 1997 11:26:08 -0600
From: Werner Uhrig <werner@ddg.com>
Subject: Poor dying Billy...
To: The Humour Mill <friends-of-wru@hipark.austin.isd.tenet.edu>
[forwarded]
> Craig Shergold is a 10 year old boy who is dying of cancer. Before he dies,
> he would like to set the world record for receiving the most Neiman-Marcus
> Cookie Recipes. You can help Craig by sending an irate fax to LEXIS-NEXIS
> demanding that they remove all traces of your mother's maiden name from
> their executive washroom wall. They will respond by sending e-mail labeled
> "goodtimes" to the computer controlling Craig's life support equipment.
> When Felippe Linz, the technician operating the computer opens this mail,
> his hard drive will be overwritten with thousands of credit card invoices
> for $250.00, erasing the last bit of evidence that Hilary was seen on the
> grassy knoll when JFK was shot, thus allowing world domination by Bill
> Gates, and his tri-lateral commission cronies who are eating fried peanut
> butter and banana sandwiches in the black helicopters with Elvis.
------------------------------
Date: Wed, 19 Feb 1997 12:05:02 -0500 (EST)
From: Keith Bostic <bostic@bostic.com>
Subject: Proof of God??!!
To: /dev/null@mongoose.bostic.com
Forwarded-by: rosaphil <rugosa@interport.net>
Forwarded-by: Michael Ballard <miballar@leland.Stanford.EDU>
"Hyperbolic God"
by Vince Sabio
HumourNet Communications, Ltd.
<http://www.humournet.com/HumourNet/>
... I have decided to put to rest, once and for all, the dispute between
Science and Theology on the subject of God, by proposing an
all-encompassing and self-consistent theory on the relationships among
God, Heaven, and the Universe. I propose to accomplish this task in such
a manner as to keep anyone from ever asking my opinion on God again.
I. I Have Seen God, and He Is Large
First of all, a colleague of mine informed me that God is large. I rather
liked this idea, since it greatly simplifies future postulates (be patient,
gentle reader, there will be lots of them). Since 'large' is a relative term
(when I was younger, it meant anything over four feet tall), we'll simply
assume here that it means God is larger than the scope of our imagination --
e.g., larger than the national deficit.
II. God is All-Knowing
Secondly, I was informed that God is all-knowing. This implies that He knows
what is going on at the intersection of Broadway and the Avenue of the
Americas at 3:00 Monday morning just as well as what's happening in the Red
Square in Moscow at 2:00 Friday afternoon. Thus, He must be in all places at
all times, which helps support assumption (I), that God is large.
III. God Is Everywhere
This is almost a direct result of assumption (II), the result being that God
is in all places at all times. Assumption (III), however, extends this from
our sphere of experience (and observation) to include the entire Universe. In
other words, God is in all places at all times in the Universe. Thus, God is a
four-dimensional being, which helps support assumption (I), and also why my
catechism nuns (who seemed to have enough trouble with two-dimensional
Euclidian geometry) finally gave up and decided that He resembled Man (or vice
versa).
IV. God Is Self-Evident
In response to query of proof of God (on which to base my theory), my
colleague informed me that God is self-evident -- that is, everywhere one
looks, there is proof of God. I, being of a rather simple-minded nature,
accepted this at face value, and concluded the following: If God is everywhere
I look, then He is more than just IN all place AT all times -- He IS all
places AND all times. And since all places and all times implies the entire
Universe, then God *is* the entire Universe.
V. God Is Large -- and Quite Curved
Since God is the Universe, and the Universe is assumed to be homogeneous and
isotropic at all places, then God must be homogeneous and isotropic at all
places. Thus, He is either spherical, flat or hyperbolic (since these are the
only geometries that support the homogeneity and isotropy conditions). To help
decide which of these geometries represents our Universe, we need another
basic assumption about God, namely that "God has infinite wisdom." (This
assumption was not supplied by my colleague, since she left soon after I
postulated that God is curved, but was instead given to me by Sister Francine
during catechism in 1969.) This is really quite a lot of wisdom, and a simple,
finite Universe just couldn't contain it all, so the Universe must be infinite
(which rules out a spherical God). We can extrapolate from this conclusion
that He is either flat or divergent. Since the majority of the data gathered
points toward a hyperbolic (open) universe, we will assume that God is
divergent -- which is a convenient assumption, since no one wants a flat God.
>From this, we quite straightforwardly conclude that He is five-dimensional and
curved -- specifically, *hyperbolic*.
VI. Heaven Is 16-Dimensional Hyperbolic Space, and I'm Going To Hell
Since God's mailing address is "Heaven," it is evident that our Universe (God)
actually resides within a higher-dimensional space. In (III), God was shown to
be intrinsically four-dimensional, but (V) showed that He is actually curved
and five-dimensional. If Heaven is to be represented as a higher-dimensional
continuum within which our Universe exists, then it must have 15 dimensions if
it is flat, or 16 dimensions if it is hyperbolic. Though it is not conclusive,
the implication that God is hyperbolic suggests that Heaven should also be
divergently curved -- and, thus, requires a total of 16 dimensions for a
complete projection. This makes sense, too, since it is common knowledge that
Everything actually exists intrinsically in hexadecimal (and c.g.s. units), as
evidenced by the fact that the Universe was created in sixteen days.
Note: The fact that the Bible CLAIMS the Universe was created in six days --
plus one to rest -- and not 16 (as we would expect) is actually the result of
a mathematical error made by Archbishop James Ussher during the seventeenth
century. While attempting to establish the date of Creation, Ussher -- who was
not very good at math -- mistakenly took hexadecimal to mean "base six," and
thus miscalculated the Creation of the Universe by 10 days; it was actually
created on Wednesday, November 2. God created Saturday before Monday because
He's a party animal, and has an obvious affinity for weekends as opposed to
weekdays. (The astute observer will note that His son gained fame by turning
water into wine). Why He created five weekdays and just two days per weekend
can only be speculated upon -- and is, in fact, the subject of *another* one
of my theories....)
Editor's Note: The piece continues from there, but does little more than
ensure my seat near the front, right up by the flames. The only other entry
worth noting here is the conclusion:
... Thus, it is entirely possible that the existence of God will fall quite
naturally out of a Unified Field Theory, should such a mathematical construct
ever be developed. However, even in the event that the existence of a higher
being is proven mathematically, we still must note that God DOES, in fact,
play with dice.
Copyright 1997 by Vincent Sabio, HumourNet Communications Ltd.
All Rights Reserved; permission is hereby granted to forward or post
"Hyperbolic God," provided that the by-line (above) and this copyright
statement are included.
------------------------------
Date: Thu, 20 Feb 1997 05:50:02 -0700
From: qotd-request@ensu.ucalgary.ca (Quote of the day)
Subject: Quote of the day
To: qotd@ensu.ucalgary.ca (Quote of the day mailing list)
"Whilst other cookery has room for error and freehand style, it is
important to measure carefully in baking... to be thorough in your
folding, creaming and measuring... and to line your baking tins
carefully and butter them, when directed, as thoroughly as Last Tango
in Paris."
- from "Two Fat Ladies" - Gastronomic Adventures [with motorbike and
sidecar] by Jennifer Paterson and Clarissa Dickson Wright, 1996
------------------------------
Date: Thu, 20 Feb 1997 09:05:02 -0500 (EST)
From: Keith Bostic <bostic@bostic.com>
Subject: Thermodynamics (ULOTD?)
To: /dev/null@mongoose.bostic.com
Forwarded-by: good@pixar.com (Craig Good)
Forwarded by: kitt@pixar.com
Forwarded by: JAG7761@ACS.TAMU.EDU
Forwarded by: rbg7795@terminator (Robert B Greendyke)
A true story. A thermodynamics professor had written a take home exam for his
graduate students. It had one question:
"Is hell exothermic or endothermic? Support your answer with a proof."
Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law or some
variant. One student, however wrote the following:
First, we postulate that if souls exist, then they must have some mass.
If they do, then a mole of souls can also have a mass. So, at what rate
are souls moving into hell and at what rate are souls leaving? I think
that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to hell, it will not
leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving.
As for souls entering hell, lets look at the different religions that
exist in the world today. Some of these religions state that if you are
not a member of their religion, you will go to hell. Since, there are
more than one of these religions and people do not belong to more than
one religion, we can project that all people and all souls go to hell.
With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls
in hell to increase exponentially.
Now, we look at the rate of change in volume in hell. Boyle's Law states
that in order for the temperature and pressure in hell to stay the same,
the ratio of the mass of souls and volume needs to stay constant. So, if
hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter
hell, then the temperature and pressure in hell will increase until all
hell breaks loose.
Of course, if hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of
souls in hell, than the temperature and pressure will drop until hell
freezes over.
It was not revealed what grade the student got.
------------------------------
Date: Thu, 20 Feb 1997 10:05:02 -0500 (EST)
From: Keith Bostic <bostic@bostic.com>
Subject: The Star Wars Song Companion
To: /dev/null@mongoose.bostic.com
Forwarded-by: Rob Mayoff <mayoff@tkg.com>
Forwarded-by: Anthony Yen <Anthony.Yen@tkg.com>
** Luke
-- (sung to The Presidents of the USA's "Lump")
-- New words by Patrick Mines.
Luke sat alone on Tatooine,
Waiting for something to happen to him.
Droids showed up on the moisture farm,
They totally confused all the passing jawas.
He's Luke, he's Luke, he's in my head.
He's Luke, he's Luke, he's Luke, his family's dead.
Luke lingered long on Dagobah,
And the dream he got was sort of rotten and it seems
Ben lied to him and Vader's his dad.
Is Luke over there hanging out with no hand?
He's Luke, he's Luke, he's in my head,
He's Luke, he's Luke, he's Luke, his family's dead.
(whining)
Luke was standing ready and without a care.
The guard pushed him off and he tumbled through the air.
He did some fairly heroic-type deeds.
Luke left for Endor at subsonic speeds.
He's Luke, he's Luke, he's in my head,
He's Luke, he's Luke, he's Luke, his family's dead.
Is this Luke outta my head?
I think so.
Is this Luke outta my head?
I think so. Yeah! Whooo!
Is this Luke outta my head?
I think so.
Is this Luke outta my head?
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
** Imperial Rhapsody
-- (sung to Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody")
LANDO: This is the good life
This is a fantasy
Working on Bespin
An escape from Reality.
LEIA: Open your eyes
Stand up to these guys and see.
LUKE: I'm just a farmboy, I need some sympathy
Cuz who's my dad, I dunno
Little whine, little moan.
HAN: Anywhere the Force goes, doesn't really matter, to me
PIETT: Vader just killed a man.
Raised an arm up in the air
Now his life is no longer there.
Vader, we had just begun,
And now I've gone and lost the reb-el scum.
Vader, ooooooo.
Didn't mean to make you mad
If I'm not alive again this time tomorrow,
There'll be a new admiral, as if nothing ever happened.
YODA: Too late, my time has come,
Sends shivers down my spine
Body's aching all the time.
LUKE: Goodbye everybody, I've got to go
Gotta leave you all behind and learn the Force.
PIETT: Vader, ooooooooo.
I don't want to die
I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all.
LUKE: I see a little silhouetto of a man
Palpatine, Palpatine, can it be the Emperor?
Thunderbolts and lightning, very very hurting me!
R2-D2, R2-D2,
R2-D2, R2-D2,
R2-D2, Where'd ya go? C-3PO O O O O O OH!
I'm just a farmboy, nobody loves me.
REBELS: He's just a farmboy, with a dead family.
Spare him this life of such mendacity!
HAN: Spice'll come, spice'll go. Jabba let me go.
JABBA: Bo shuda! (NO, we will not let you go)
HAN: Let me go!
JABBA: Bo shuda! (We will not let you go)
HAN: Let me go!
JABBA: Bo shuda! (We will not let you go)
HAN: LET ME GO!
JABBA: WILL NOT LET YOU GO!
HAN: LET ME GO!
JABBA: WILL NOT LET YOU GO!
HAN: LET ME GO!
JABBA: NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!
C3PO: Oh R2-D2, R2-D2, R2-D2, Come along.
LEIA: C-3PO has a rebel put aside for meeeee, for meeeeee,
for MEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
(Stormtroopers start headbanging)
LUKE: So you say you're the dear old dad of mine?
But you cut my hand off and left me to die!
Oh Vader, can't do this to me, Vader.
I know there's some good, I know there's still some good in you.
OBIWAN: May the Force be with you.
Use the Force to see.
May the Force be with you,
May the Force be with you, alwaaaaaaaaaaaaays.
HAN: Anywhere the Force goes, doesn't really mat-ter, to meeeeeeee.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
** Y.O.D.A
-- (sung to The Village People's "Y.M.C.A", by master Yoda on
meeting Luke Skywalker)
YOUNG MAN, I saw your ship come down. I said
YOUNG MAN, now it's muddy and brown. I said
YOUNG MAN, put your weapon away, 'cause I
*MEAN* *YOU* *NO* *HARM* *I* *SAY*
YOUNG MAN, There's no need to feel fear. I am
WONDERIN', tell me why are you here? How you
GROWIN', from this food on the plate, I say
*WARS* *DO* *NOT* *MAKE* *ONE* *GREAT*
You must be here to see Y.O.D.A
You must be here to see Y.O.D.A.
He's 900 years old!
He's so strong in the Force!
Do your Jedi Diploma course!
You must be here to see Y.O.D.A
You must be here to see Y.O.D.A
Come and get yourself clean!
Come and have a good meal!
Pretty soon now, the Force you'll feel!
YOUNG MAN, you fell out of the sky, into
SOMETHIN' brown that smells like a sty, and this
TIN CAN started swimming and then, he got >*SPAT*
*OUT* *LIKE* *SOME* *THROAT* *PHLEGM* >YOUNG MAN,
Welcome to Dagobah. He is
COMIN', master Yoda not far. I'll be
HAVIN' this bright thing that ain't hot. It is
*MINE* *OR* *I'LL* *HELP* *YOU* *NOT*
You must be here to see Y.O.D.A
You must be here to see Y.O.D.A.
He's 900 years old!
He's so strong in the Force!
Do your Jedi Diploma course!
You must be here to see Y.O.D.A
You must be here to see Y.O.D.A
Don't just stand in the rain!
You're all covered with mud!
come and sample my homemade crud!
OLD BEN, Are you listenin' to me? I can't
TRAIN HIM, he's so reckless you see! Like his
OLD MAN, he's so angry but brave! Betcha
*HE* *SCREWS* *UP* *AT* *THE* *CAVE*
YOUNG MAN, If you start will you end, or be
GOING, off to save all your friends? To be
TRAINING, needs commitment and work, if you
*WIMP* *OUT* *THEN* *YOU'RE* *A* *JERK*
You gotta stay here with Y.O.D.A
You gotta stay here with Y.O.D.A
You should stay here and train!
You don't have to save Han!
If you do so, you'll lose your hand!
You gotta stay here with Y.O.D.A.
(repeat and fade).
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
** KENOBI
-- (sung to Paul Simon's "Cecilia", by Darth Vader during his
duel with Obi Wan)
CHORUS
Kenobi,
You shouldn't have come back,
You best watch your back
Or I'll kill ya.
Oh Kenooooobi,
Your powers are weak,
You're feeble and meek,
And you're old.
Old, old, old.
Swingin' blades
In the afternoon,
With Kenobi,
He's an old buffoon
(old buffoon)
I cut through
His chest and face,
When he falls to the ground
Air has taken his place.
REPEAT CHORUS
FUNKY NOISES SOLO
Ju-bi-la-tion!
I murdered that coot,
He's stuck to my boot
And I'm laughing.
Ju-bi-la-tion!
I murdered that coot,
He's stuck to my boot
And I'm laughing.
LUKE: Noooooo! No nooooo!
No noooo no no no nooooo! . . .
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
** HAN (To REM's "Stand")
-- (sung to REM's "Stand", by His Excellency, Jabba The Hutt)
Han in the place where I live
(On the wall) Think about adhesion, wonder what holds him up there now
Han in my palace at home
(It's the best)
Makes a good example for the people who are working for me.
Now if, you have, to hang up your hat
just use, the guy, who's frozen and flat
His hand, is there, to hold things for you
And Han, is there, 'cause I like the view!
Oh Han with my trophies at work
(Excellent)
Think about collection, wonder can I get the Wookiee now
Han, brought here by my best friend
(Boba Fett)
Stops him dumping cargo runs and blowing my employees in half
Now Han, a statue, is a good sight
I'm glad, that Vader, used carbonite
He's not, asleep, he's stuck in a dream.
I like, his face-perpetual scream!
Oh Han on display in my room
(Work of art)
Think of decoration, maybe should I hang him sideways now?
Han, it was worth all the cash
(Every cent)
He even opens bottles and I think he'd make real good doorman
Han on the deck of my barge
Han frozen stiff as a bar
Han doesn't wander too far
Oh Han!
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
** THE MAX REBO BAND
-- (sung to Billy Joel's "The Pianoman")
It's nine o'clock down at Jabba's place
the regular crowd waddles in
there's a weird thing sitting next to me
it has three eyes and mottled gray skin.
Fett says Max can you play me a memory
I'm not really sure how it goes
but it's haunting and sweet and if you miss a beat
this carbine will blow off your nose.
He said sing us a song now, Max Rebo Band
sing us a song tonight
'cause we're all in the mood for a melody
except Solo, who's in carbonite.
La de de da, de de da
La da de de da, da dum..
Now Jabba the Hutt is a friend of mine
he gives me my life for free
And because he's a Hutt, why, we all kiss his butt
or the rancor will have us for tea.
He said "Bo Shuda, offom da Tukatti!"
as he stuffed a frog into his face
but we don't know a woid, 'cause he shot the talkdroid
So we'll smile and nod, just in case.
Oh, La de de da, de de da
La da de de da, da dum..
Sing us a song now, Max Rebo Band
sing us a song tonight
'cause we're all in the mood for a melody
except Solo, who's in carbonite.
Sy Snootles is our favorite vocalist
her face it ain't launching no ships.
Don't know why it behoove her to go kiss a Hoover
but that's how she got those weird lips.
A Gammorean guard is headbutting bricks
as another one gnaws on a bone
and I don't know which has less intelligence
either those two big thugs or the stone.
Sing us a song now, Max Rebo Band
sing us a song tonight
'cause we're all in the mood for a melody
except Solo, who's in carbonite.
Oh, la da da da de de dah
la da de de da dah dum..
It's a pretty good crowd, here at Jabba's place
it's a killing, that's why we're all here
we'll sail over the dune to the pit of Carkoon
and we'll toss someone in with a cheer.
'Cause we gotta new droid on the pedestal
and a man in black's come in the door
he just pointed a gun over Salacious Crumb
and then promptly sank through the floor.
Oh, La de de da, de de da
La da de de da, da dum..
Sing us a song now, Max Rebo Band
sing us a song tonight
for the Jedi Skywalker is down below
and the rancor is gripping him tight
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
** Blast, Loot, Pillage, Burn
-- (sung to The Mickey Mouse Club Theme)
Blast, loot, pillage, burn, blast, loot, pillage, burn.
Who's the leader of the Horde that's made for what we are?
Lord D-A-R-T-H-V-A-D-E-R!
Hey there, hi there, ho there! We'll conquer every star!
Lord D-A-R-T-H-V-A-D-E-R!
Darth Vader! (Obi Wan) Darth vader! (Skywalker!)
For ever let us hold our blasters high! High! High! HIGH!
Come along and sing our song and march with us to war,
Lord D-A-R-T-H-V-A-D-E-R!
(slowly)
Now its time to say goodbye - they're closing up the bar -
Lord D-A- [aaayy]*
R-T-H- ["H" is what he'll give ya!]
V-A-D-E- (pause) R-R-R-R.
*a la the Fonze, including thumbs up gesture.
A- [aaayy]*
R-T-H- ["H" is what he'll give ya!]
V-A-D-E- (pause)
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
** "I Am The Very Model Of A Modern Diplomatic Droid"
-- (sung to Gilbert and Sullivan's "I Am The Very Model Of A
Modern Major General")
-- From: redfive@yoyo.cc.monash.edu.au
(from _HMS DEATHSTAR_)
THREEPIO:
I am the very model of a modern diplomatic droid
I'm fluent in the languages of Robot, Wookiee, humanoid,
A binary loadlifter does not pose the slightest mystery,
I know the rules of protocol and also human history.
I'm very well acquainted too, with matters mathematical,
I understand equations, both the simple and quadratical,
About binomial theorem I'm teeming with a lot o' news --
With many cheerful facts about the square of the hypotenuse
CHORUS
With many cheerful facts about the square of the hypotenuse (X3)
THREEPIO
I'm very good at integral and differential calculus,
I know the scientific names of beings animalculous;
In short, my masters find in me a reason to be overjoyed,
I am the very model of a modern diplomatic droid.
CHORUS
In short his masters find in he, etc.
THREEPIO
I am the very model of a modern diplomatic droid;
Adventure is the sort of thing I'd hoped that I could quite avoid,
For droids who find adventure often find that they get melted down,
Or shipped out to the Kessel mines and tiresome labor underground.
My counterpart excels at making trouble for the rest of us,
He lured me to the desert where the jawas soon molested us,
They sold us to some farmers, and before the passing of a day,
I had to tell my master that the little twerp had run away
CHORUS
He had to tell etc. (X3)
THREEPIO
Now that we're on the Death Star, and stormtroopers swarm the premises,
I'm hiding in the closet with that little Artoo nemesis;
And so I want to make it clear 'ere Artoo gets us both destroyed.
I was the very model of a modern diplomatic droid.
CHORUS
And so he wants to make it clear 'ere Artoo gets them both destroyed,
He was the very model of a modern diplomatic droid.
------------------------------
Date: 10 Feb 1997 13:19:55 -0800
From: shand
Subject: UNIX the fungicide
Newsgroups: src.etc
Yesterday I was hiking through La Ferte Alais, rural village about
an hour from Paris when I came across this billboard showing
three smiling adolescents and the word "UNIX(R)" emblazoned across
the top.
I looked more closely and saw that in smaller print it talked about
how Ciba-Geigy could eliminate fungus problems from your oats crop.
I couldn't quite believe it, especially the (R), but today I found:
http://www.novartis.com/agri/crop/fungicide.html
and on that page:
Newly introduced Novartis fungicide products include:
Score. is the new broad spectrum for use on fruits, sugar beets,
bananas and vegetables;
Unix. and Chorusv are for use on cereals and apples;
But that's not all, Novartis' established fungicide products include Alto
and Dorado (also registered trademarks). It appears they are working
their way through computer and OS names. They have another fungicide
called Topas -- clearly a misspelling. I can hardly wait for Windows
fungicide NT.
It turns out Novartis' US headquarters are in Summit NJ. My friends at
Bell Labs are now trying to get some UNIX literature for the "UNIX Room".
------------------------------
Date: Wed, 19 Feb 1997 11:11:11 -0600
From: Werner Uhrig <werner@ddg.com>
Subject: What if Lt. Data Ran on Windows 95
To: The Humour Mill <friends-of-wru@hipark.austin.isd.tenet.edu>
WHAT IF LT. DATA RAN ON WINDOWS 95?
WORF: Captain, there are three Romulan warships uncloaking dead ahead.
PICARD: On screen.
[The main viewing screen changes to a pattern of horizontal lines, each=
only a single pixel wide.]
PICARD: Data, what's wrong here?
DATA: Captain, the main viewscreen does not have sufficient video memory to=
display an image of this size. May I suggest that you select a lower resolu=
tion?
PICARD: Make it so.
[The screen blanks, and then an image appears, with big, blocky square=
pixels. Three objects appear in the center, which could be Romulan=
warbirds, but which actually look more like the aliens in Space Invaders.]
PICARD: Data, open a hailing channel to the Romulans.
DATA: Aye, sir.
[Data picks up an hourglass from the floor beside him, turns it over, and=
places it on the console in front of him. He punches some buttons on the=
console and sits motionless for several seconds. A flash of light blossoms=
from one of the Romulan ships on the viewscreen.]
WORF: Incoming plasma torpedo, Captain!
PICARD: Shields up!
DATA: I'm sorry, Captain, but I am still attempting to complete your last=
instruction. I must ask you to wait until I have finished before you =
issue your next command.
PICARD: What on earth do you mean? Data, this is *important*! I want those=
shields up *right now*.
DATA: I'm sorry, Captain, but I am still attempting to complete your last=
instruction. I must ask you to wait until I have finished before you issue=
your next command.
LAFORGE: Allow me, captain. [to Data] Control-alt-delete, Data.
[Data removes the hourglass from the console, and returns it to the floor.]
DATA: The Romulans are not responding to my hails. Press my nose to cancel=
and return to Windows. Pull my left ear to close this communications=
channel which is not responding. You will lose any information sent by the=
Romulans.
[LaForge pulls Data's left ear.]
PICARD: Shields...
[There is a tremendous explosion. The bridge shakes violently, and all the=
crew members are thrown to the floor. A shower of sparks erupts from=
Wesley Crusher's station at the helm, throwing Wesley back away from the co=
nsole.]
PICARD: ... up, Data!
DATA: Aye, sir.
RIKER: All decks, damage report!
WORF: Captain, Ensign Crusher is injured. He appears to be unconscious.
[Data picks up the hourglass again, places it on his console, and punches=
some more buttons. He waits a few seconds, then puts the hourglass back on=
the floor.]
DATA: Shields are now up, captain.
PICARD: And not a moment too soon. Worf, lock all phasers on the lead=
Romulan ship.
WORF: Aye, sir. [He punches buttons on the weapons console.]
PICARD: Mr. Data, take the helm, and prepare for evasive action.
DATA: I am sorry, sir, but I do not have the proper device driver installed=
for that console.
PICARD: Well, damn it, install the right one.
DATA: Please insert Setup Implant #1 in my right nostril.
PICARD: Number One, where do we keep Data's setup implants?
RIKER: I left them with Geordi.
LAFORGE: [in a surprised voice] What!!? I thought you still had them!
PICARD: Data, don't you have device drivers stored in your internal memory?
DATA: Not found, sir. Please insert Setup Implant #1 in my right nostril.
PICARD: Data, I don't *have* Setup Implant #1.
DATA: Not ready reading right nostril. Abort, Retry, Fail?
PICARD: Abort!
DATA: Not ready reading right nostril. Abort, Retry, Fail?
PICARD: Well, fail, then!
DATA: Current nose is no longer valid.
[Data walks over to the helm, and presses several buttons. The ship=
lurches, the images of the Romulan warships suddenly shift to one side of=
the viewscreen, and a high-pitched whining noise is heard coming from=
somewhere else in the ship.]
LAFORGE: [alarmed] Data, what the hell are you doing?
PICARD: Number One, do we have a customer service number for Data?
RIKER: Yes sir, but last time I tried to call them, I got put on hold for=
two hours before I was able to talk to anyone. And that person wasn't=
knowledgeable bout androids of Data's model. She specialized in industrial=
control robots.
[Suddenly, the lights all go out, the viewscreen goes blank, and all the=
usual noise of fans, motors, and so on whines to a halt. After a few=
seconds, the red emergency lights come on. Data is standing by the=
console, absolutely motionless.]
PICARD: What's going on?
LAFORGE: [checking the helm console] Lieutenant Data has caused a General=
Protection Violation in the warp engine core.
PICARD: These androids look really sharp, but you can't really do anything=
with them.
[The shimmer of the transporter effect appears, and six Romulans in full=
battle dress materialize on the bridge. A seventh figure, a Ferengi,=
appears moments later.]
=46ERENGI: [with a mercenary grin] Can I interest you in a PowerMacintosh, =
Captain?
------------------------------
From: brian@nothing.ucsd.edu (Brian Kantor)
Subject: a different set of the rules
To: yucks
Date: Wed, 17 Jul 1996 09:08:15 -0700
------- Forwarded Message Follows -------
From: Mike Simpkins <simpkins@chichi.nosc.mil>
Date sent: Mon, 8 Jul 96 14:24:46 -0700
Subject: A WOMAN'S 50 RULES FOR MEN
A WOMAN'S 50 RULES FOR MEN
1. Call.
2. Don't lie.
3. Never tape any of her body parts together.
4. If guys' night out is going to be fun, invite the girls.
5. If guys' night out is going to involve strippers, remember the zoo rules:
No Petting.
6. The correct answer to "Do I look fat?" is never, ever "Yes."
7. Ditto for "Is she prettier than me?"
8. Victoria's Secret is good. Frederick's of Hollywood is bad.
9. Ordering for her is good. Telling her what she wants is bad.
10. Being attentive is good. Stalking is bad.
11. "Honey", "Darling", and "Sweetheart" are good. "Nag", "Lardass", and
"Bitch" are bad.
12. Talking is good. Shouting is bad. Slapping is a felony.
13. A grunt is seldom an acceptable answer to any question.
14. None of your ex-girlfriends were ever nicer, prettier, or better in bed.
15. Her cooking is excellent.
16. That isn't an excuse for you to avoid cooking.
17. Dishsoap is your friend.
18. Hat does not equal shower, aftershave does not equal soap, and warm does
not equal clean.
19. Buying her dinner does not equal foreplay.
20. Answering "Who was that on the phone?" with "Nobody" is never going
to end that conversation.
21. Ditto for "Whose lipstick is this?"
22. Two words: clean socks.
23. Believe it or not, you're probably not more attractive when you're drunk.
24. Burping is not sexy.
25. You're wrong.
26. You're sorry.
27. She is probably less impressed by your discourse on your cool car than
you think she is.
28. Ditto for your discourse on football.
29. Ditto for your ability to jump up and hit any awning in a single bound.
30. "Will you marry me?" is good. "Let's shack up together" is bad.
31. Don't assume PMS is the cause for every bad mood.
32. Don't assume PMS doesn't exist.
33. No means No. Yes means Yes. Silence could mean anything she feels like
at that particular moment in time, and it could change without notice.
34. "But, we kiss..." is not justification for using her toothbrush. You
don't clean plaque with your tongue.
35. Never let her walk anywhere alone after 11pm.
36. Chivalry and feminism are NOT mutually exclusive.
37. Pick her up at the airport. Don't whine about it, just do it.
38. If you want to break up with her, break up with her. Don't act like a
complete jerk until she does it for you.
39. Don't tell her you love her if you don't.
40. Tell her you love her if you do. Often.
41. Always, always suck up to her brother.
42. Think boxers.
43. Silk boxers.
44. Remember Valentine's Day, and any cheesy "anniversary" she so-names.
45. Don't try to change the way she dresses.
46. Her haircut is never bad.
47. Don't let your friends pick on her.
48. Call.
49. Don't lie.
50. The rules are never fair. Accept this without question. The fact
that she has to go through labor while you sit in the waiting room on
your ass smoking cigars isn't fair either, and it balances everything.
[Well, maybe on Valentine's Day.... --spaf]
------------------------------
End of Yucks Digest
------------------------------