From gilly@bucsf.bu.edu Thu Nov 30 23:29:24 1989
From: gilly@bucsf.bu.edu (Gilly Rosenthol)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: Nick Pine
Date: 27 Nov 89 17:00:10 GMT
Reply-To: gilly@bucsf.bu.edu (Gilly Rosenthol)
Distribution: alt.callahans
Organization: Boston University
Status: O

I'm sorry, I know how I hate when people post these sorts of messages,
but it's got to be done.
Nick, every time you've written to me I have tried to respond, really,
but my machine won't let me.  Are there other addresses I could try?
At least know that I'm not ignoring you, it's the *^%(^!! computer.

				-Gilly

-- 
+--------------------+-------------------------------------------------------+
| Gilly Rosenthol    |"Don't dream it, be it" -The Rocky Horror Picture Show |
| gilly@bucsb.bu.edu |"On ne voit bien qu'avec le coeur.                     |
|		     | L'essentiel est invisible aux yeux." -Le Petit Prince |
+--------------------+-------------------------------------------------------+


From kathy@fps.com Thu Nov 30 23:29:25 1989
From: kathy@fps.com (the Rev. Mom)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: Re: Alt.Callahans? Mind explaining?
Date: 21 Nov 89 23:45:56 GMT
Reply-To: kathy@fps.com (the Rev. Mom)
Distribution: na
Organization: FPS Computing Inc., San Diego CA
Status: O

In article <1989Nov20.185948.15790@contact.uucp> gonzo@contact.UUCP (Gonzo Tog) writes:
>
>Would someone mind explaining to me the purpose of this section?
> 
>G.

Heck, no, I wouldn't mind.  [But as MINOR finger-shaking nags, I
would like to point out that you could read the official description
in news.lists, and that your .sig must be hell on people reading at
300 baud.]

This here is Callahan's.  Suggested background reading is Spider
Robinson's CALLAHAN'S CROSSTIME SALOON (and various sequels).  This is
a place to hone and show off your paronomasiac and empathic skills.

Free-for-all-punning is the rule, as well as stopping to lend a
sympathetic ear to anything anybody has to say.  No prying, no
guilt-trips.  And anybody caught flaming will be pegged with a beer
bottle by Callahan, or by Fast Eddie's blackjack.

Have fun.  And welcome.

--Kathy Li aka the Rev. Mom
--
____Disclaimer:_*my*_opinions;_not_FPS's________kathy@fps.com____________

"There's not a word yet/ For old friends who've just met."

From kathy@fps.com Thu Nov 30 23:29:25 1989
From: kathy@fps.com (the Rev. Mom)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: Re: to family (?)
Date: 22 Nov 89 07:31:38 GMT
Reply-To: kathy@fps.com (the Rev. Mom)
Distribution: usa
Organization: FPS Computing Inc., San Diego CA
Status: O

> jmdoyle@phoenix.Princeton.EDU (Jennifer Mary Doyle) writes:
>
>Mike, a round for everyone on me. I'll take a Mexican hot chocolate, and I
>believe the Rev. Mom will too.

Ibarra 'round da'barra....!

Sorry.  I couldn't resist.  :-)

For those who've never had Mexican hot choclate, it's sometimes found
in the local grocery store near the Hershey's stuff in a bright yellow
hexagonal (maybe octoganal?) box with red strips.  Ibarra usually
comes in solid form; you break off a piece, stick it in a pan with
some milk, whip it while it heats--and you've got hot chocolate from
the hand of God.  It's flavored with a hint of cinnamon and vanilla.
Good shtuff!  (Christ.  I'm showing all my California-isms all at the
same time... Next thing you know, I'll be asking Mike for a grapefruit
Hansen's soda. :-)

Here's to the holiday/homesick/homework blues!

>CRASH!<

--Kathy Li aka the Rev. Mom
--
____Disclaimer:_*my*_opinions;_not_FPS's________kathy@fps.com____________

"There's not a word yet/ For old friends who've just met."

From leonard@bucket.UUCP Thu Nov 30 23:29:26 1989
From: leonard@bucket.UUCP (Leonard Erickson)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: Re: SF <pun> (was Re: music)
Date: 26 Nov 89 14:28:07 GMT
Distribution: alt.callahans
Organization: Rick's Home-Grown UNIX; Portland, OR.
Status: O

gilly@bucsf.bu.edu (Gilly Rosenthol) writes:

>How
>about some SF puns? The shortest distance between two puns is a Heinlein, after
>all.

This is turning into a real Myth. I think I need some Asprin...
-- 
Leonard Erickson		...!tektronix!reed!percival!bucket!leonard
CIS: [70465,203]
"I'm all in favor of keeping dangerous weapons out of the hands of fools.
Let's start with typewriters." -- Solomon Short

From jmdoyle@phoenix.Princeton.EDU Thu Nov 30 23:29:26 1989
From: jmdoyle@phoenix.Princeton.EDU (Jennifer Mary Doyle)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: Re: SF <pun> (was Re: music)
Date: 27 Nov 89 21:33:13 GMT
Reply-To: jmdoyle@phoenix.Princeton.EDU (Jennifer Mary Doyle)
Distribution: alt.callahans
Organization: or, conversely, Chaos:
Status: O

In article <1774@bucket.UUCP> leonard@bucket.UUCP (Leonard Erickson) writes:
>gilly@bucsf.bu.edu (Gilly Rosenthol) writes: 
[Actually, it was Gilly posting for me. Alt.callahans hadn't been newgrouped
 here yet. Thanks, Gilly!]

>>How about some SF puns? The shortest distance between two puns is a Heinlein,
>>after all.
>This is turning into a real Myth. I think I need some Asprin...
Either that, or some Lynn-iment.

Jen 
-- 
                         "I can't -- I have rehearsal."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
   Jennifer Doyle   //   Princeton  '92   //   jmdoyle@phoenix.princeton.edu  
Disclaimer: I am a student, I represent the future.

From zimerman@phoenix.Princeton.EDU Thu Nov 30 23:29:28 1989
From: zimerman@phoenix.Princeton.EDU (Jacob Ben-david Zimmerman)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: Re: SF <pun> (was Re: music)
Date: 27 Nov 89 21:38:41 GMT
Reply-To: zimerman@phoenix.Princeton.EDU (Jacob Ben-david Zimmerman)
Distribution: alt.callahans
Organization: Princeton University, NJ
Status: O

In article <11766@phoenix.Princeton.EDU> jmdoyle@phoenix.Princeton.EDU (Jennifer Mary Doyle) writes:
>In article <1774@bucket.UUCP> leonard@bucket.UUCP (Leonard Erickson) writes:
>>>How about some SF puns? The shortest distance between two puns is a Heinlein,
>>>after all.
>>This is turning into a real Myth. I think I need some Asprin...
>Either that, or some Lynn-iment.
>
>Jen 
Hearing the beginnings of yet another punfest, I groan Asimov closer to
the bar.   Mike, God's Blessing, if you would.

-JBZ!
-- 
___________           | MTV is the lava lamp of the 1990's.        
     ||               |       -An unknown MTV comedian                 
||   ||acob Zimmerman!+> <zimerman@phoenix.Princeton.EDU> INTERNET 
  ===                 |  <zimerman@PUCC>                  BITnet

From jmdoyle@phoenix.Princeton.EDU Thu Nov 30 23:29:29 1989
From: jmdoyle@phoenix.Princeton.EDU (Jennifer Mary Doyle)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: Re: SF <pun> (was Re: music)
Date: 27 Nov 89 21:47:42 GMT
Reply-To: jmdoyle@phoenix.Princeton.EDU (Jennifer Mary Doyle)
Distribution: alt.callahans
Organization: or, conversely, Chaos:
Status: O

>>>>How about some SF puns? The shortest distance between two puns is a 
>>>>Heinlein,after all.
>>>This is turning into a real Myth. I think I need some Asprin...
>>Either that, or some Lynn-iment.
>Hearing the beginnings of yet another punfest, I groan Asimov closer to
>the bar.   Mike, God's Blessing, if you would.
"We really should write these down. Let's call a Clarke." she said, as a huge
Brin spread across her face. "It Kurtz me to see these wonderful puns lost
forever."

Jen-- 
             "Make mine a root beer, Mike. Thanks. <CRASH>"
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
   Jennifer Doyle   //   Princeton  '92   //   jmdoyle@phoenix.princeton.edu  
Disclaimer: I am a student, I represent the future.

From austin@bucsf.bu.edu Thu Nov 30 23:29:30 1989
From: austin@bucsf.bu.edu (Austin Ziegler)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: Re: SF <pun> (was Re: music)
Date: 27 Nov 89 23:27:55 GMT
Distribution: alt.callahans
Organization: Boston University College of Engineering
In-reply-to: zimerman@phoenix.Princeton.EDU's message of 27 Nov 89 21:38:41 GMT
Status: O

>>>>> On 27 Nov 89 21:38:41 GMT, zimerman@phoenix.Princeton.EDU (Jacob
>>>>> Ben-david Zimmerman) said:

*> In article <11766@phoenix.Princeton.EDU> jmdoyle@phoenix.Princeton.EDU
*> (Jennifer Mary Doyle) writes:
>In article <1774@bucket.UUCP> leonard@bucket.UUCP (Leonard Erickson) writes:
>>>How about some SF puns? The shortest distance between two puns is a
>>>Heinlein, after all.
>>This is turning into a real Myth. I think I need some Asprin...
>Either that, or some Lynn-iment.
*> Hearing the beginnings of yet another punfest, I groan Asimov closer to
*> the bar.   Mike, God's Blessing, if you would.

	I was going to have a pun, but I couldn't think of Niven.  Mike,
while you are getting Jacob his God's Blessing, I'd like a "Lucifer's
Hammer" -- cold.

	Say, do I hear some "FootFall" ... I wonder "All the Myriad Ways"
that we will hear these puns.

-- 
			Magyk (austin@bucsf.bu.edu)
	       700 Commonwealth Box 2094, Boston, MA  02215
				     
       "Yes, I'm the crazy person running an EMail AD&D adventure!"
				   -- Me

From hoppie@bu-pub.bu.edu Thu Nov 30 23:29:31 1989
From: hoppie@bu-pub.bu.edu (Thomas I Hopkins)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: Greetings and /etc <100% PUN FREE>
Date: 28 Nov 89 02:07:42 GMT
Distribution: na
Organization: Boston University College of Engineering
In-reply-to: kathy@fps.com's message of 21 Nov 89 23:45:56 GMT
Status: O


     The doors swing open to let in yet another patron. He has
a tired look about him, as if he had attended one social event 
too many, despite the fact he has only just arrived.  He is 
dressed in jeans and T-shirt and is carrying an overstuffed
backpack, the epitome of the engineering student.  as he flashes
a quick grin to the others in the place, it's obvious he has 
been here before, if only lurking in the shadows enjoying the
wit of others.
     He steps up to the bar holding and fishes for a dollar bill.
After a bit of fiddling he settles for four quarters he found in 
his jacket pocket and promptly places them on the counter.  "If
you please, Mike, a glass of root beer."  He looks around the bar 
once more, and sighs gently.  "Well, I'm glad this place hasn't 
changed much while I was gone."  
     He steps into the firelight and drains the glass.  He pauses
for a moment, looking for the proper words...

     "Like some others who are around here, I did visit my family
over the vacation.  It's odd, actually.  I spend more of the year
at school, than I do at home.  I'm sure I have more friends here
than I do at home, or at least they are more a part of my everyday
life.  By now, after doing this for a few years, it almost feels 
like the vacation is the visiting and my life here is my real life.
I guess that is part of learning to grow up and live on your own."

     "But on with the toast.  Over the years I've noticed that 
this vacation seems to be a big one for people going home.  Friends
of mine have gone home over this vacation and refused to come back.
I guess they miss home a little too much.  I guess this is what my
toast is to.
    
     To everyone's return!  And to those who didn't! <crash>"

     He goes to sit down in a chair and chat with an interesting 
bear he saw on the way in.  It looks like he will be staying at 
this social event for a while.

-Tom Hopkins <hoppie@bu-pub.bu.edu>
> "There's not a word yet/ For old friends who've just met."
  "[...] You can just visit/ But I plan to stay"
(A favorite movie (and song) of mine) 

From cerebus@bucsf.bu.edu Thu Nov 30 23:29:31 1989
From: cerebus@bucsf.bu.edu (Tim Miller)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: A toast
Date: 28 Nov 89 04:02:37 GMT
Distribution: alt
Organization: Boston University
Status: O


	The flames in the fireplace flicker, fanned by the cold wind
blowing through the open door.  The wind whistles around the obstruction of
the figure that steps quietly inside.  He, or it, is garbed in a long black
cloak; it flutters about his ankles in the wind.

	He closes the door without a sound; indeed, the only sound so far
has been the whistling of the angry winter wind.  Nevertheless, all eyes
are upon the figure in black.  The low murmur of conversation falls dead.

	In the dim light of the fireplace, the cloak is black as pitch.
The deep hood obscures the face within.  Looking upon that face is like
lloking upon the Void itself-- utter emptyness; infinity.  It glides across
the floor towards the bar; no footfalls are heard, not even the whisk of
fabric as this figure moves.  The only sound is the crackle and snap of the
fire. 

	A dollar bill is produced from some hidden pocket and is placed
without ceremony on the bartop.  It is as if the cloaked arm passed over
the bar and the bill materialized there.  A root beer is produced; no order
seems necessary.  The mug disappears within the hood as the figure toes the
line and emerges empty.

	The mug is raised high above the hooded face as the first sound
emerges from that inky blackness, merely a whisper in that silenced room:

	"To friends past."

	The mug tumbles in a high arc, tracing its path in tiny droplets of
root beer that clung to the glass.  All eyes follow it to its inevitable
destruction in the fireplace; eyes fixed on the shards as the fire flares
briefly, consuming shattered glass.  All eyes return to the line where the
figure has vanished, leaving no trace of his having ever been.




					Timothy J. Miller
					cerebus@bucsf.bu.edu


From austin@bucsf.bu.edu Thu Nov 30 23:29:32 1989
From: austin@bucsf.bu.edu (Austin Ziegler)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: Home for the holidays -- The Aftermath (?)
Date: 28 Nov 89 06:57:18 GMT
Organization: Boston University College of Engineering
Status: O


	Unlike last time, he does not make a flashy entrance.  The wizard
just simply appears in front of the bar, nearly knocking over a little
bear.  "I think this time, I'll sit down."  He does so, but sits in
mid-air.  The bear is quite incredulous as he walks under the wizard.  The
wizard sees the unicorn in the corner and floats over and talks with him.
After some time, the wizard decides to go over to the bar again and order
something.
	"Lets see...I think I'll have a purple cow.  I haven't had one of
those in a long time."  He puts down his dollar bill, and drinks the purple
cow slowly.  He floats up to the line, and stands up.  All attention now
turns to him.
	"Hello, again, this is Magyk.  How many people out there had a good
Thanksgiving weekend?  Well--one moment."  He disappears with the cup still
in his hand.  He reappears and then makes a tiny gesture.  The robe he
wears disappears, revealing Austin.  Today, he wears jeans, tennis shoes,
and a sweatshirt, in addition to his thick glasses.
	"I hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving.  You know, my fears for
Thanksgiving away from home were founded, but they were all for naught, it
turns out.  You see, my relatives were some of the nicest people one could
ever meet.  They made me feel at home, and they fed me quite well...far
better food than I'll ever get at the dining facilities at Boston
University.
	"Not only that, but I had a few long-distance talks with my
parents, and even though it did not replace them for Thanksgiving, it
helped.  Oh.  One other thing.  We got snow, and that made it even better.
	"Why am I telling you this?  Because this is the place where I can
make a toast to anything I want, and people will listen.  They may not
agree with me, but they still listen.  So, now my toast.
	"To friends, both seen and unseen, on IRC, at Callahan's, and in
plain view of me.  To family, both immediate and extended.  There is little
better than the love that one finds in a family.  To love, and to the hope
that I find somone to whom I can pass my love."  He throws the glass, a
light, easy toss, this time.  It falls about two feet short, bouncing ...
once ... twice ... three times, when it shatters into a million shards.
	A gesture and the robe returns.  The hood rises above his head, and
he sits back upon the air once again.  "It will be a while before I leave,
my friends."  He floats over to the unicorn, and calls over the cat and
talks with them.  As he floats over, you think you see a tear forming under
his eyes...


-- 
			Magyk (austin@bucsf.bu.edu)
	       700 Commonwealth Box 2094, Boston, MA  02215
    "The Hammer has fallen." -- Niven and Pournelle, _Lucifer's Hammer_

From spl@mcnc.org Thu Nov 30 23:29:33 1989
From: spl@mcnc.org (Steve Lamont)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: Re: SF <pun> (was Re: music)
Date: 28 Nov 89 01:44:27 GMT
Reply-To: spl@mcnc.org.UUCP (Steve Lamont)
Distribution: alt.callahans
Organization: Foo Bar Brewers Cooperative
Status: O

In article <11766@phoenix.Princeton.EDU> jmdoyle@phoenix.Princeton.EDU (Jennifer Mary Doyle) writes:
>>This is turning into a real Myth. I think I need some Asprin...
>Either that, or some Lynn-iment.

You folks are real Cards!!!  I laughed my Asimov!  Keep it up and I'll
send you a Boucher of Carr-nations.  

							spl (the p stands for
							puns -- obviously)
-- 
Steve Lamont, sciViGuy			EMail:	spl@ncsc.org
NCSC, Box 12732, Research Triangle Park, NC 27709
"There are two major products that come out of Berkeley: LSD and UNIX. We
 don't believe this to be a coincidence." ||   - Jeremy S. Anderson

From sksircar@phoenix.Princeton.EDU Thu Nov 30 23:29:34 1989
From: sksircar@phoenix.Princeton.EDU (Subrata Sircar)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: Re: SF <pun> (was Re: music)
Date: 28 Nov 89 02:42:10 GMT
Reply-To: sksircar@phoenix.Princeton.EDU (Subrata Sircar)
Distribution: alt.callahans
Organization: SPAMIT
Status: O

The door slams open, and a figure in sweatshirt and jeans stumbles in.  He 
grinds to a halt, looks around sheepishly, and closes the door to prevent more
wind and weather from sweeping in.  As he moves towards the bar and into better
light, it becomes evident that he is about 5'5", dark-skinned, mustached and
bearded, and unsure of what exactly he's doing here.

Pulling a crisp, clean dollar bill from his wallet [Editor's noted:  I love
fresh money] he greets the bartender with, "Hi Mike.  Sort of leaned against
your door a little too hard while I was lurking, and decided to come in.  
How about a lemonade?"  Mike smiles and hands him his lemonade, and he leans
against the bar and slowly sips away.

When the glass is about half-full, he stands up and wanders over towards the
fireplace.  As he catches sight of the line, he stops and stands for a minute,
framing the words of his toast clearly.

"Here's to the friends I have met, the friends I still have, and the friends
I have yet to find.  May I give to them as much as others have given to me."

<*CRASH!*>

Subrata K. Sircar, Prophet & Charter Member of SPAMIT(tm)
sksircar@phoenix.princeton.edu       SKSIRCAR@PUCC.BITNET
Life is a fatal, sexually transmitted disease.  It's also heriditary - if you
don't have one, chances are your children won't either.

From hollombe@ttidca.TTI.COM Thu Nov 30 23:29:34 1989
From: hollombe@ttidca.TTI.COM (The Polymath)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: A Note on the Wall
Date: 27 Nov 89 22:59:39 GMT
Reply-To: hollombe@ttidca.tti.com (The Polymath)
Distribution: alt
Organization: Citicorp/TTI, Santa Monica
Status: O


The quiet guy in the corner takes his empty glass to the line for a toast:

     To e-mail!  Someday we'll all get a working version. <crash>

He then scribbles a note on a scrap of paper and posts it on the wall
near the dart board.  It says:

Dear Jane,

     Thanks very much for your mail.  My reply bounced.  Sorry about that.

				   -- The Polymath

P.S. to everyone:

I make a good faith effort to reply to all e-mail received (except flames
-- they depend on mood).  Lately about 50% or more seem to bounce.  If you
don't hear from me, I'm not ignoring you.  My idiot mailer can't find you.

Sorry, Mike.  I won't clutter your wall again.  (Walks back to the corner
chair).

-- 
The Polymath (aka: Jerry Hollombe, hollombe@ttidca.tti.com)  Illegitimis non
Citicorp(+)TTI                                                 Carborundum
3100 Ocean Park Blvd.   (213) 452-9191, x2483
Santa Monica, CA  90405 {csun|philabs|psivax}!ttidca!hollombe

From zimerman@phoenix.Princeton.EDU Thu Nov 30 23:29:35 1989
From: zimerman@phoenix.Princeton.EDU (Jacob Ben-david Zimmerman)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: Re: SF <pun> (was Re: music)
Date: 28 Nov 89 06:06:54 GMT
Reply-To: zimerman@phoenix.Princeton.EDU (Jacob Ben-david Zimmerman)
Distribution: alt.callahans
Organization: Princeton University, NJ
Status: RO

In article <11770@phoenix.Princeton.EDU> jmdoyle@phoenix.Princeton.EDU (Jennifer Mary Doyle) writes:
>>>>>How about some SF puns? The shortest distance between two puns is a 
>>>>>Heinlein,after all.
>>>>This is turning into a real Myth. I think I need some Asprin...
>>>Either that, or some Lynn-iment.
>>Hearing the beginnings of yet another punfest, I groan Asimov closer to
>>the bar.   Mike, God's Blessing, if you would.
>"We really should write these down. Let's call a Clarke." she said, as a huge
>Brin spread across her face. "It Kurtz me to see these wonderful puns lost
>forever."
>
JB glanced back at Jen on his way to the bar, and grimaced as he Spider
Robinson of the puns he'd been saving.  "Mike, I dunno what we oughta do
with Jen," he said as he collected his drink. "Maybe we oughta Farmer
out as a torturer.  She'd be jailed for those puns otherwise, and I for
one wouldn't Springer. I wonder if we oughta even let remain in de Camp."
He ducked as the big Irishman calmly produced a seltzer bottle and let
fly at his head.  The stream followed him down, however, and when it had
subsided among gales of laughter, a wet, flat bedraggled afro appeared
>from beneath the bar, followed by a grinning and dripping JB...who had
managed not to spill his Blessing.

>Jen-- 
JBZimmerman!
-- 
___________           | MTV is the lava lamp of the 1990's.        
     ||               |       -An unknown MTV comedian                 
||   ||acob Zimmerman!+> <zimerman@phoenix.Princeton.EDU> INTERNET 
  ===                 |  <zimerman@PUCC>                  BITnet

From estokien@jarthur.Claremont.EDU Thu Nov 30 23:29:36 1989
From: estokien@jarthur.Claremont.EDU (Eric Stokien)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: Re: Some appropriate lyrics (Was (Re: Life?))
Date: 28 Nov 89 21:20:09 GMT
Reply-To: estokien@jarthur.UUCP (Eric Stokien)
Organization: Harvey Mudd College, Claremont, CA
Status: RO

Well all I can say about Callahan's being a crutch, is that it's purpose was
and is to allow people to communicate better on the way to telepathy, and
there is no wimping out in that action.  And inner space is going to be 
important too if all of us people are going to learn to live with each other
on this tiny world.
  So Mike, give me a Monaco, like I drank in France, and I propose this toast.
 "To understanding"
<Crash>
 "May it come to all of us."
but now to Bio.
Seeya guys
whoosh!!!!!!!!

From austin@bucsf.bu.edu Thu Nov 30 23:29:37 1989
From: austin@bucsf.bu.edu (Austin Ziegler)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: Greetings from Jilara
Date: 29 Nov 89 00:16:50 GMT
Distribution: alt
Organization: Boston University College of Engineering
Status: O


	The wizard appears again, this time with someone.  He walks over to
the corner and sits.  He listens...

Call me the Ghost of Callahans, one of many, I'm sure.  Call me Jane, or
Jilara the Exile, or many other names.  I lurk in many times and places,
this only one.  Maybe in 1840's California, or the Civil War, or even a
strange meeting of Mountain Men, or medieval folk.  Ever an Exile, I
lurk by firesides, savoring the warmth of fellowship.  Have you ever
read the Ancient Mariner, my friends?  You see before you the modern
embodiment, a woman with a swashbuckling aura, nonmatching earcuffs,
large glasses, flowing blond hair---and haunted eyes.  I see people take
two steps back when then truly look into my eyes.  There is death
reflected there, eyes that have seen too much, experienced too much, and
people sense that.  I like your fireside because it makes me think of
Valhalla, or what I would like Valhalla to be like, if the Powers that
Be are gracious.  I have been through much, and the weatherbeaten aura
that clings to me is earned, I assure you.  I have not been in good
shape, lately, Post-Traumatic Shock they call it.  In other times and
places, it could be called combat fatigue.  They tell me I have to be
phenomenally strong, or I would not have survived and kept my sanity as
I have, down these 35 years.  But it hasn't been easy.  I've given
meaning to an empty existance by acts of daring-do, and always being
there when people were in need.  There are folks alive because of me,
but sometimes they spit on you for your help, feeling obliged.  Believe
me, playing superhero earns you a lot of hate.

I have no family---all dead, except a distant brother 28 years older
whom I barely know.  A lot of dear friends are dead, too.  And love
comes not easily to the Ancient Mariner---my eyes scare too many people,
for they see too much loss in them, want only to run away.  I'm strong,
and I'm alone.  I have been learning that I probably can't ever be like
all of you people---to me, "security" is the period of waiting before
the ceiling falls in on you, again.  There is no security in my world.
Only exile, and stops by firesides where there are good folks, like
here, who ease my heart a little, dispell some of the chill.  Security---
that lies in contemplating my death, when I shall cease to feel
anything.  I spent my Thanksgiving with the Mountain Men, swapping yarns.  
Good enough.  We laugh too loudly, and paint other faces atop our own,
afraid of what people will see---and fear.

I give you all a toast, with this good Oban unblended scotch, my
favorite.  "To Love of Friends, the only thing that makes our passage
here endurable, and to Survivors---with the hope that folks will
understand that surviving is sometimes the hardest thing you can do."
CRASH!

	The wizard, Magyk, says "Glad you could join us, Jilara.  Here, you
will always be welcome."

-- 
      Magyk (austin@bucsf.bu.edu,@bucsb.bu.edu,engc8vc@buacca.bu.edu)
	       700 Commonwealth Box 2094, Boston, MA  02215
    "Your mother was a hampster and your father smelt of elderberries!"
		     -Monty Python and the Holy Grail

From austin@bucsf.bu.edu Thu Nov 30 23:29:38 1989
From: austin@bucsf.bu.edu (Austin Ziegler)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: Re: Greetings from Jilara
Date: 29 Nov 89 00:24:10 GMT
Distribution: alt
Organization: Boston University College of Engineering
In-reply-to: austin@bucsf.bu.edu's message of 29 Nov 89 00:16:50 GMT
Status: O


	Ummm...sorry, Jane...

		You guys...I forgot to post Jane's email address.  She
cannot post to Callahan's so she asked me to post for her.  Her email
address is jane@fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM (Jane Beckman x2637) and it was my
fault that I didn't put that.  Talk to her.  She's really a neat person.
Really.  I'm impressed.

	Now back to our regularly scheduled toasts... 

-- 
      Magyk (austin@bucsf.bu.edu,@bucsb.bu.edu,engc8vc@buacca.bu.edu)
	       700 Commonwealth Box 2094, Boston, MA  02215
    "Your mother was a hampster and your father smelt of elderberries!"
		     -Monty Python and the Holy Grail

From cerebus@bucsf.bu.edu Thu Nov 30 23:29:38 1989
From: cerebus@bucsf.bu.edu (Tim Miller)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: Re: Toast
Date: 29 Nov 89 02:11:18 GMT
Distribution: alt
Organization: Boston University
Status: O


	Posted by request of the author who mailed it to me; pleas address
all replys appropriatly:

Return-Path:  <motcsd!fsdcupt!jane@apple.com>
Subject: Re: A toast
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
References: <43441@bu-cs.BU.EDU>
Date: 28 Nov 89 09:43:37 PST (Tue)
From: jane@fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM (Jane Beckman x2637)


Over by the fire, a ghostly figure lurks, and raises her glass to the
phantom of the night, understanding his world and his toast too well.  
She calls herself the Ghost of Callahan's,
sometimes, lurking in the warm firelight to warm the chill of her soul.
(She can't post onto this warm little group, only email).  
Her face seems relatively young, but she's weatherbeaten, and her eyes
are ancient beyond her years, and there is a bleakness that radiates,
despite the swashbuckling style she affects, with her black leather and
billowing sleeves and nonmatched earcuffs.  She smiles a weary smile.

"Gods keep you, friend.  I understand your toast.  Call me Jane.  Call
me Jilara the Exile.  I have many names, in many places.  I think we
have walked some similar planes.  I am alone, who has seen too much, and
even the warmth of friends cannot warm the inner reaches, where too much
death and loss and chaos have nibbled at my being.  A Toast: to Exile,
and we who walk a lonely way few can understand.  And to true bushido,
the code that keeps me going!"  CRASH.  The unblended scotch in the
glass flares for a moment, blue with golden sparks...  If there is a
Valhalla somewhere, a friend of hers would enjoy the sentiment, and
savor the liquor with pleasure.  Several friends, actually...  She
settles back and crosses her booted feet.  Her eyes, haunted by many
ghosts, watch the fire, lost in its blazing.  No one sees her...

---Jilara the Exile
  (a.k.a.) Jane Beckman
  907 Sharmon Palms #D
  Campbell, CA. 95008

  "Of all the things I've lost, I miss my mind the most..."  ---Ashleigh
Brilliant.

