+51 Date: Sun, 3 Jan 1988 17:12 Subject: NutWorks Issue021 Received: From +lt;MAILER@UIUCV

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+51 Date: Sun, 3 Jan 1988 17:12 From: BRENT@MAINE Subject: NutWorks Issue021 Received: From for via RSCS by ECNCDC; Sun, 03 Jan 1988 17:12 CST Received: by UIUCVMD (Mailer X1.25) id 5141; Sun, 03 Jan 88 17:12:36 CST Date: Sun, 3 Jan 88 16:37:00 EST Reply-To: BRENT@MAINE Sender: NutWorks Distribution list From: Brent C J Britton Subject: NutWorks Issue021 To: Samir Kaleem ------------------------------------------------------------------------- @@@ @@@@ @@@ @@@@ @@@ @@@@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@@@@@ @@ @ @@ @@@@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@@@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@ @@@@ @@@@ @@ @@@ @@@ @@@@ @@@@ @@ @@@ @@ @@@ @@@@ @@@ @@@ @@@ Electronic Humor Magazine. Issue021, (Volume VI, Number I). January, 1988. NutWorks is published semi-monthly-ish by Brent C.J. Britton, ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "It's so much more attractive, Inside the moral kiosk." -- REM ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Contents ======== NewsWorks ...................... Points of Interest The Amazing Adventures of Herbert ........ Story The AI Notebook ................ Report An Even Bet .................... Joke Happy Motoring! ................ Commentary How to Catch a Grey Elephant .............. Nature Dear Diary ..................... Essay Famous Maker Recipes ........... Health Good Samaritans ................ Joke Technician's Corner ............ Essay Gnomery ........................ Shaggy Dog Story ------------------------------------------------------------------------ NewsWorks ========= For subscription information, contact LISTSERV@TCSVM.BITNET with the words "GET NUTWORKS INFO" as the contents of a mail file or message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Amazing Adventures of Herbert ================================= Episode I: Herbert's Victory ----------------- by Ishtar <23480853@WSUVM1> One day, long ago, in a land known as the Golden Land, which is made up of seven kingdoms, a child named Herbert was found in the forests of Spork. This child had been foretold by the Seers of Spig long ago as the one who would defeat the great menace of Spam, and so Herbert was given every care imaginable. Herbert's childhood was made up of train- ing for the great day, and the pleasures of being raised as a member of a royal family. But there was always the shadow of Spam hanging over the Golden Lands. One day, not long after the Ritual of Sham, in which one proves adult- hood by eating an entire pig in 3 days, our hero was wandering in the forests of Spork, when a great shadow covered the sun. Although it passed quickly, the people knew it was an omen of the coming of the Spam. Exactly one year later, the omen came true. On that dark day, known 'till this day as the Day Two Hams Collided, the sun did not rise, but instead, a great can of Spam came out of the east. Our hero knew that there was only one way to save the Golden Lands. Herbert ran to the Hamory, grabbed the magical Saltines and the vorpal butter knife, and ran to meet the challenge. The menace was quickly defeated, with our hero slicing the Spam and putting it on the Saltines, and the people ate the crackers, and thus was the land saved. The only problem was that the magic of the Golden Land, which lived in its wonderful people, was destroyed by the influx of Spam, and soon there was income tax, thermodynamic tests, a postal system, Godfathers pizza, Russians and nuclear weapons. And so was the Golden Land lost forever. (Be sure to tune in next month for another of Herbert's riveting tales!) ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The AI Notebook =============== by Johnathan R. Partington Recent progress in Artificial Intelligence ------------------------------------------ by Charles Cabbage After much debate on the fundamental philosophical question of the twentieth century: "How many beans make five?" I decided that there was only one way to get a definitive answer: ASK THE BEANS THEMSELVES. Accordingly, I took a can of Heinz Baked Beans, noting the legend "57 varieties" on it. Could 57 be the answer to this Ultimate Question, I wondered. My basic problem was to educate the beans so that they could pass the Turing test. This seemed at first sight to be a tricky project, but then I remembered one sinister fact. The Computing Service was forbidding food and drink near its terminals. Could this be because they feared that such comestibles would evolve into sentient life forms as a result of exposure to radiation from the CRT's? Admittedly, this had not happened to CS students, but nonetheless I gave it a try. At dead of night I went into the User Area, tipped the baked beans over a terminal, and waited for signs of consciousness. A message appeared on the screen. "Hi there! I appear to have developed consciousness." "Greetings, er, bean-culture," I typed. "What is 3141592 plus 27181828?" "Whoa, this sounds like the Turing test. I thought such ideas went out with David Wheeler. Modern AI has gone beyond that you know." "I don't suppose you're going to write me a sonnet on the subject of the Forth Bridge, either, are you?" "No. FORTH is out as well these days. I can do you an obscene limerick in ML, if you like." "Thanks, but all I really wanted to know was how many beans make five." "Oh that's an easy one. Take the smallest integer n>2 such that x^n+y^n=z^n has a solution, subtract the number of angels that can dance on the head of a pin, and add 57. Look, let's play five-dimensional Ludo instead." At that point the Computer Service Manager came up, and, disregarding my claims that it was a research project, ate the beans. I do not feel inclined to repeat the experiment. (Next month our religious correspondent will produce a Fourier analysis of the sound of one hand clapping.) ------------------------------------------------------------------------ An Even Bet =========== by Leslie Charteris Submitted by Peter Flynn There was once a betting agent, a bookmaker (of the horsey, not the literary variety), returning late one evening from a race meeting up country. The weather was foul, his car was old and he was tired, so he decided to look for somewhere to stay the night, and to continue his journey home the next day. Soon he saw the lights of a suitable roadside hostelry, and pulled into the parking lot. It turned out to be a country pub, and he was interested to see the nameboard proclaim it was called "The Even Steven". To a man in his line of business this was of course intriguing enough in its own right to warrant a stay. While a meal and a room was being made ready, he signed the register and chatted with the innkeeper, explaining his interest in the name of the place. "Ah," sighed the host, "I thought I was being clever. You see, my name is Steven Even, and I thought if I turned the name round, it might attract some custom. But being a rather isolated road, business isn't what it might be." The landlord went on, "The real problem is my daughters: three of the lusciousest gals you could set eyes on. Ought by rights to have the pick of their boyfriends. But living here, so far from the nearest town, any boy would have to drive 30 miles to pick them up, 30 back to a movie, 30 here to bring 'em back, and 30 home themselves, and 120 miles is more than most boys will drive, even for beautiful girls like mine." The bookie condoled with him, and went into the deserted dining room for his meal, which was delicious, and soon despatched. After a beer with landlord and some desultory chat, the bookmaker retired to his room and got ready for bed. While he was washing, there was a knock at the door, and in glided this fantastic blonde in a sheer nightdress. "Hello, I'm Blanche Even," she said. "I just wanted to see you were all right for the night." The bookie explained that he had everything he needed, and after some further polite chat, the girl went out. Five minutes later, as he was getting into bed, there was another knock at the door, and in sailed a fabulously curvy brunette. She introduced herself as Raven Even, and wanted to make sure he was settled in. He fended her off and soon was composing himself for sleep. Then there came a third knock at the door, and a stunning redhead came in wearing the negligee to end all negligees. "Hi, I'm Ginger Even," she said, "I hope I'm not disturbing you. I just wanted to see if there was anything more you needed." By now the bookmaker was getting tired of the interruptions and politely but firmly showed her to the door. Thirty seconds later the irate landlord burst in. "What's the matter with you?" he cried, "I've three of the most ravishing beauties around, and they all complain you don't want them! Just what is it with you? You wouldn't give even one of them a tumble! Ain't us Evens good enough for you?" "I'm sorry," replied the bookmaker primly, "but as I said when I reg- istered, I'm a professional betting agent; I only lay Odds." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ And then there's the one about the two cows in a barn. One says to the other, "Have you heard the one about the two dogs? One dog says to the other, 'Have you heard the one about the two cats? One cat says to the other, "Have you heard..."'" "Hang on a minute," says the second cow. "This is absurd. Cats can't talk!" -- jrp et al ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Happy Motoring! ============== by Annie Green Springs Submitted by Ann D. Fullam So why is it that people think that no one watches them while they are in their cars? I mean, my whole life revolves around staring at all those other folks who are stuck in the same traffic jam that I am in. Why do you think you can do all that stuff you wouldn't do unless you were alone? Now I know that you don't normally scratch your butt in public. But, there you are, almost climbing onto the roof of your car trying to scratch that elusive ITCH. And the nose-picking -- it is the absolute WORST -- of course, only men do these things. The women are all trying to fix the twisted leg of their panty-hose, (you take both legs off, then you inch the car forward a little, then you put the twisted leg on (repeat 6 times, finally you get rid of the twist) you start to put the other leg on, then you inch forward a little more and bump the car in front of you. It is now a race to see if you can get your hose back on before that guy can walk back there to cuss you out. You WILL lose and have to stay in the car the whole time that this idiot guy from Redneck Falls, Oklahoma, jumps up and down and yells at you, even though you know you would be much more formidable if you were to get out of the car. (For one thing you could deck him!!!). Finally, after giving him the name of your insurance company and promising him your first *TWO* children, he goes away and you can proceed with putting the other leg of your hose on. It works -- after only an hour and 20 minutes of struggle you have successfully twisted the *OTHER* leg of your panty hose.) And then there is the FARTING. You can tell people are doing this because they are rolling their windows down and pretending to try to see what is holding up traffic even though it is 200 below zero and a the middle of a blizzard. Plus, they look funny when they do it. First, they look all around themselves. Then, they fart. Then, they look all around again to make sure no one has heard the noise. Come on, 5 bil- lion cars, all standing still in a space the size of a 1 car garage, honking their horns, and these people are worried that someone MAY HAVE HEARD THEM FART. Well, they're right -- we all heard them do it and we are all staring at them and we are all going to call their mothers and tell on them as soon as we get out of this traffic jam (about 3 hours from now, give or take a week). Also, there is an awful lot of singing. Everyone sings along with the radio. Or maybe they just talk to themselves rhythmically for 2-5 minutes at a time. Then, when the song finishes, they quickly look around to see if anyone noticed. YUP!! I noticed and I will stare at you for a while to see if I can make you feel unbelievably DUMB!!! It WILL work! You will see me staring. You will hate my guts. You will start carrying a 357 magnum to "take care" of people who catch you singing in your car in traffic jams. What I really like are those guys who go ahead and start up a long hill in a snow storm when they know they can't possibly make it. These are people who can't move forward in RAIN because they have such slick tires. These are people who have never, ever, gone ANYWHERE in snow. These are people who have trouble moving forward on FLAT DRY surfaces. These are the people who are ALWAYS in front of me in blizzards, and they always beat me to that gentle sloping hill that ANYBODY should be able to drive up but NOOOOOO, not these people. They were put on the earth primarily to get in MY way during snow storms, and, they have it down pat!! They start quickly up the hill (spinning their wheels as they start off) they move 6 feet up the hill, they roll back down 5 feet (they are now at a slight angle), then, they floor the accelerator. Stuck again!!! Usually 10 to 12 really BRIGHT folks do this to make us all really happy. It seems impossible, but, people who cannot possibly drive up a hill in a snow storm always arrive at the hills they can't drive up in large groups. This is to insure that people who CAN drive up hills in snow storms can't get to the hills in order to drive up them. Well, the traffic jam just cleared (they towed those guys off the hill), so I guess I'd better mosey along. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Editor's note: In NutWorks Issue017 (April '87) we carried the following tip in our Nature column: > How to Catch a White Elephant > ============================= > Submitted by Niels Kristian Jensen > >Go to an place where there are white elephants. Bring with you a >muffin (with raisins). Climb a tree. When the white elephant is close, >drop the muffin (with raisins) in front of it. The white elephant will >be happy, and eat the muffin (with raisins). White elephants like >muffins (with raisins). Repeat this procedure for five days in a row. >After the fifth day, the white elephant will be used to its daily muffin >(with rasins). The sixth day you climb the tree, bring with you a >muffin without rasins. Drop the muffin as usual. When the white >elephant finds out that the muffin lacks rasins, it will darken in >anger. >And then you catch it the same way as an ordinary grey elephant. Editor's note Continued: Unfortunatly, we neglected to follow it up with a certain additional piece of information. So... How to Catch a Grey Elephant ============================ by Ron Trenka Go to a place where there are grey elephants. Bring with you a box with a peanut it it. Climb a tree. When the grey elephant is close, drop the box in front of it. The grey elephant, curious as all grey elephants are, will open the box and, to his delight, eat the peanut. Repeat this for one month. After the month is up, the grey elephant will be used to opening the box for a peanut. Then you climb the tree, carrying the box with a mouse in it instead of the peanut. Drop the box as usual. When the grey elephant opens the box, it will see the mouse and turn white with fright. And then you catch it the same way you would catch a white elephant. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Dear Diary ========== by Hugh Cushing Dear Diary: I hate my new job at the Bursar's office. You get in at 10:30 once George comes around and unlocks the door, and then there's all these papers all over your desk, and you don't know where they came from. So you shove them on the floor and try to get to work, and then the stupid computer won't work! The girls have this funny toy called a "computer smasher" and it's a foam-rubber hammer that you can hit the computer ter- minal with, and it's really great, except I wish it was real! So I was thinking today maybe trying to hit it with something real, so I used this roll of quarters, and it worked for a second. But some wires must have got crossed, because the repairman and Mr. Shoeberg came around and they both got really mad. So >then<, I get this stupid guy comes up to my window and said he didn't get his GLS check, or something. So John, the really smart guy next to me who just started, says he doesn't know what the LSG check is either. So I asked the guy what it is, and he said the government was going to give him $13,000! So I said "Yeah, right," and I called security with my little button under my desk, because I'm not paid to deal with nut cases. But did that stop Mr. Shooburg from yelling at me? Oh, no! And I thought that this was going to be a great job, because I was watching the place while I was waiting for my interview to get hired, and I saw all these really foxy, rich guys with those CB jackets that my brother-in-law is always wearing, and I said "hey, I want to work here!" But it turns out they're all such CENSORED! They act like I just spit up or something. Plus, they're not so hot, half the time they're sucking their stomachs in and they've got zits on their forehead that they hide under the hair that they hang down over one eye. And I thought that all the money would be neat to play with, but they've got MACHINES to count the money with now! It's like Russia, in a way. Oh, well, at least my commute's down to three hours. Good night, diary. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Famous Maker Recipes ==================== by Aaron Stern Submitted by Hugh Cushing Jerry Garcia's Brownies ----------------------- Ingredients: 1 ounce marijuana 10 American dollars 1 1987 BMW Procedure: 1) Get fucked up. 2) Send a roadie in the BMW to the store to buy $10 worth of brownies. 3) Eat, man! ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Good Samaritans =============== Submitted by Bob Morecock Three young college students are on vacation in Washington, D.C. One day they are walking together past the White House when they hear a voice, which sounds like that of an elderly man, crying out, "Help, Help." Quickly, they respond to the call by leaping over the White House fence, and by following the cries, they eventually come upon Ronald Reagan, drowning in the White House swimming pool. In an heroic rush, they pull him from the pool, then give him artificial respiration, clearly saving his life. After a few minutes, Reagan says to them, "Well, boys, today you saved my life! And I am willing to give each of you any wish you desire, as long as it is within my power as President!" The first fellow thinks for a few seconds then says, "I have always wanted to go to West Point. Can you get me an appointment?" "You bet!" said the President, "I'll sign the papers this afternoon!" Then the second fellow said, "I've always wanted to go to Annapolis. Can you get me in?" "You bet I can," said the President. "I'll sign the papers for it this afternoon, too." After a few moments more, the third fellow said, "I'd like to know, can you get me buried in Arlington National Cemetery?" Reagan, a bit startled, thought for a second or two, then said, "Sure, but tell me, aren't you awfully young to be thinking about such things?" "Nope," replied the remaining fellow. "Because when I get home and tell my old man what I did today, he's going to kill me!" ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Editor's note: This poem translates to nonsense in French, but read it aloud as if it were proper French. Un petit D'un petit Se donnait vols Un Petit D'un petit ` , A d'un gres vols Au de quinze hor seize Au de quinze mains que dont peut un petit ^ ` Tu guettes heure a Cannes. -- Ian Murphy ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Technician's Corner =================== by Steve King Lately, much of the computer science literature has been devoted to the topic of cache memory. While cache memory is certainly a worthy topic, there is another advanced memory management technique that I feel is at least as important to the future of computing. I speak of CREDITTE MEMORY. Let's start with an example. Imagine that you have a computer with 512K RAM (to make numbers easy) and that you use this computer 12 hours every day. What happens if you suddenly need to access more than 512K for a certain application? Well, if you use normal memory management techniques you'd better start shopping for more memory! If you use cre- ditte memory, on the other hand, obtaining additional memory for short jobs is no problem. The principle behind creditte memory is simple: If you need more memory than you have you can borrow it on the assumption that you "will have" the extra, eventually. Creditte memory is measured in "kilobyte- hours", abbreviated K-hr. In the example above, our 512K byte PC actually possesses 12288 K-hrs (512K x 24 hrs) of memory each day. In simple operation this would be 512K and the computer could be in opera- tion 24 hours a day. But in practice we're only using the machine 12 hours each day. That means we can utilize up to 1024K of RAM at any time, paying the additional 512K back during the 12 hours we're not using the computer. 1024K x 12 hrs = 12288 K-hrs, the same as before. The memory taken "on creditte" need not be paid back the same day. Imagine that we need 2M of memory (2048K) for a large spreadsheet. If this is done on Friday and we take the weekend off there's no problem. Saturday and Sunday will more than pay back the debt to Friday's computa- tion! Now imagine that we're going to take a 2 week vacation. That's 16 days (including the Saturday before we leave and the Sunday after we get back) that the computer won't be in use. 16 x 24 x 512K = 196608 K-hrs of memory is available to use before we leave! If we decided to use all our memory in just one hour Friday night we'd have 192 megabytes to play with. The perfect time to back up the hard disk! I'm sure you can see the advantages to creditte memory. As long as the computer isn't in 24 hour use, it's easy to get extra memory on cre- ditte and pay it off when the computer isn't in use. If you want to use creditte memory in your own IBM PC or compatible, go to your nearest com- puter store and ask for Entropy Enterprise's new "Creditte Card" half-slot expansion board. Available in 512K, 1M, and 2M versions. All versions have only an 18% annual percentage rate on long term creditte. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Gnomery ======= Submitted by Ann D. Fullam Once upon a time, in a land far away, long ago, there lived a group of gnomes. These gnomes were very short, grey people with warts on their noses and bells on their toes. Surprisingly, there was music playing all the time, wherever they appeared. Not so surprisingly, many poems were written about the gnomes the most popular of which ended: "Grey gnomes of the Gnome Home, they work in the earth, they till and they carry to show what they're worth. They've warts on their noses and bells on their toes and they shall have music wherever they goes." True, this was not very correct grammatically, but, it served the pur- pose of the day. Anyway, one of the gnomes was startled to come upon a bright green rock as he dug in his field one day. This rock was harder than any subs- tance he had ever seen before and he was sure it was a miraculous discovery of a gift from the gods. So, he took it to the gnome council and asked what he should do with it. Well, the gnome council was just aghast. They had never seen any- thing as wonderful as this green stone. The council decided that the gnome who found the stone (whose name was Andy) would be charged with the task of carrying the stone to the Kingdom Island and presenting it to the King. It would then be up to the king to decide what to do with the beautiful green stone. So off went Andy the gnome to the Kingdom Island. After many days and many adventures (all too numerous to tell you about right now), Gnome Andy presented himself and the beautiful green stone to the King. Well, the King was even more delighted than Gnome Andy and the Gnome Council had been. He really wanted the beautiful green stone. Since he was a good King he decided that he would give gnome Andy the hand of his lovely daughter Joan in marriage if gnome Andy would give him the stone. Since the Princess Joan was the most beautiful girl in the entire world, gnome Andy quickly accepted the King's proposal. The only other require- ment was that Andy and Princess Joan reside on the Kingdom Island so that Princess Joan would never be very far from her father. This was a difficult decision for gnome Andy. He went back to his home and discussed the choices with his family and friends and the gnome council. Eventually, after much soul searching, he decided to accept the King's offer and live on the Kingdom Island with his beautiful wife Joan. They lived happily ever after and had many children and many adventures. But, back at Gnome Home, whenever anyone asked where Andy was, people always responded: "Gnome Andy is an Islander" (dnalsI na si naM oN) ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Issue021, (Volume VI, Number 1). January, 1988.

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