We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
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Saturday, August 21. 2010
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I shall have to invite the good paleoexcavator over to do the preliminary sigs for the new rec room on the house. One never knows what treasurers are to be found. Soil cores show that I have a time line from the late Devonian to last Thursday, with the range tending toward the latter.
Put him in touch, I'll supply the permits.
That's been bubbling around the internet for a long time. It's just as funny now as when I first read it ten years ago.
All of the "BBS archives" stuff dates from the pre-web days. Or, more precisely, "pre-navigational web" days. It was around for a while before Netscape finally kicked things into gear. We used to kid about it. With a goofy name like "World Wide Web", we could tell it wasn't going anywhere.
Pre-www stuff such as this was sometimes called "copier humor" as it was often distributed by passing photocopies (usually made at employers' expense) on to the next recipient.
Oh man do I remember those days. I had a BBS up on the CT PC BBS Network running two nodes on highly modified IBM XT computers. We used to spend hours and hours finding and linking nodes interstate for reliable paths for rudimentary email and messaging. I did it as part of the local amateur radio contesting club's DX packet reporting system.
I still remember the night I started linking nodes to see how far I could get in terms of geography starting at 9 PM and ending up at 3 AM at a node in Port McQuarie, New South Wales, Australia. :>) It went via BBS nodes, up through a amateur radio packet system via HF packet on 15 meters in CA to Japan and god knows where else - something like 134 nodes and links. Many years later, I was talking to a freelance photographer friend of mine in Port McQuarie and happend to mention that night. Guess who's BBS I linked to - his.
Small world huh?
Indeed. I was sitting across from the admin guy at a bartending school in Las Vegas about five years ago and, a half-hour of delving later, it turned out my high school band had played at his high school in 1968. What are the odds?
Wanna hear a really spooky one? I was at the local convienence store talking to one of my friends about "stuff" when this guy walks past, opens the door, stops and comes back to where we were standing. He says to be are you named Tom? I said yes - why? He asks you used to be a paramedic? I said yes (now I'm getting a little nervous). He says "my name is Gary so and so - you transported me to the hospital after a car accident and I had a heart attack - I remember the voice".
Now this guy was, after we pulled him from the wreck, was almost dead and then he coded. I remember swearing like a drunken sailor at him when he did for a number of reasons and it turned out that he remembered all of that.
Get this - I never seen him before and since - his eyes were covered due to facial burns and he never saw me at any time, but he remembered the voice.
And now it's time to turn in because I'm starting to tell stories - one of the hazards of being an old fart. :>)
9mm nuts were typically used by early humanids on bicycle derailleur cables.
"trans-positating fillifitation of ferrous ions in a structural matrix"
Makes perfect sense to me.
I laughed so hard at this, my wife and dog were looking at me funny.
Tom Francis ... You must have a remarkable speaking voice. As for the rest of it, "six degrees of separation," remember?
After a lifetime of watching my fellow humans in airports, train-stations and movie lines, I've developed a kind of recognition of groups of features and and a game of trying to place folks in different groups. Someone once said that he visited Lincoln, England, and every time he turned a corner, he saw Abe Lincoln's features staring back at him.