Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!brutus.cs.uiuc.edu!psuvax1!xavier!news From: nap92@campus.swarthmore.edu Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Wanted: more glue Message-ID: Date: 10 Apr 90 20:05:48 GMT Sender: news@xavier.swarthmore.edu (USENET News System) Organization: Swarthmore College Lines: 31 [wonder where that duplicate message came from? hurm....] When Nao sees the conflict between Alex's selves, she nearly trips, but steadies herself on Eretria's shoulder. She half-heartedly throws a peanut at Alex when he sings, but is looking more guilty than restrainedly amused. When he fades out she sighs, and speaks for anyone who wants to to hear. She is staring directly where Alex was when he started his seminar reading... "So easy to block off a problem when you don't run into the other person involved very often. And when there's another problem to focus on. I'm glad you won out over the Ferret-Alex, Alex. Damn. I have no words or ways of saying what I want to say. About the only thing I can say is, I'm sorry. I know how it feels, but that's no comfort to you. Perhaps our schedules will coincide enough that we can talk one of these days? Isn't this just the greatest semester ever?" Nao's sarcastic expression quickly changes to a wistful one. "No, I didn't mean that. Perhaps it hasn't been the happiest time recently, but we're ALIVE. And we all make mistakes, and life goes on......" She slumps into a handy chair, and mutters so that you can barely hear-- "I'm almost afraid to talk to him....I'm afraid to talk to my parents....I'm afraid to talk to my advisor....I'm generally afraid and incompetent...." Her tone changes, and her fists clench, and she tosses her no-longer-bangs out of her face. "WHY CAN'T I GET MYSELF CLEARED UP?!" And there she sits. / v \ | Nao Parkhurst | | | nap92@campus.swarthmore.edu | "Blasny, blasny." | | nap92@swarthmr.bitnet | -"The Foreigner" | \ ^ / Path: mit-eddie!mit-amt!snorkelwacker!apple!usc!brutus.cs.uiuc.edu!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!sdd.hp.com!ucsd!ucbvax!FSDCUPT.CSD.MOT.COM!jane From: jane@FSDCUPT.CSD.MOT.COM (Jane Beckman x4030) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Fungus amongus Message-ID: <9004101359.AA09379@fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM> Date: 10 Apr 90 20:59:59 GMT Sender: daemon@ucbvax.BERKELEY.EDU Lines: 4 Jilara watches the exchange of mushrooms. "Is this your way of saying Mike is a really fungi? You could have made this into a shaggy mane story, with a real morel to it, but you blewit, I guess. But I amanita punster than that" Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!yale!cs.utexas.edu!swrinde!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!rpi!jefyoung From: jefyoung@pawl.rpi.edu (Jeffrey Young) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Truth Is In The Making Summary: What? Did I write this in invisible ink? Message-ID: <=XP#TD|@rpi.edu> Date: 10 Apr 90 21:54:10 GMT References: <8813@lindy.Stanford.EDU> <&3M#2R-@rpi.edu> Organization: Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, Troy NY Lines: 302 "Hey!" Taldin says, "The below is NOT a published book-- it's something I'm in the middle of writing. It's a book about us, and while quite a few people noted the query about the list in the very next article, they didn't seem to notice the story.. is it good? bad? does it accurately represent SPider's Callahans mixed with what we have here? I'd like to know!" In article <&3M#2R-@rpi.edu> jefyoung@pawl.rpi.edu (Jeffrey Young) writes: > > >From the book, "Alt The World's A Callahans", first draft >---------------------------------------------------------------- >"Where does Jake go after Mary's Place closes?", he asked. >Spider thought for a minute, and then replied, "I would imagine >he has a room in back that he sleeps in. Not sure what you're trying >to get at here." > >Chris Davis smiled, and shrugged his shoulders mysteriously. "I assume >that every New Year's Eve the crew goes out to where the Place used >to be, and drink a toast to Callahan's..." > >Spider chuckled. "I could see that happening, yes, and of course Mickey >Finn would have worked it so it didn't snow on them. Snow in one's drink >tastes pretty bad." > >"Yup, not a good time to get slushed..." > >"All right, so what's your point? I still have to catch my plane, you know." > >"Well, picture this:It's 15 years to the day since the Place got nuked >saving the world and everyone's piled into >trucks, cars and vans to make the yearly pilgrimage. There's a keg of >Bushmill's in the back of Long-Drink's truck, and everyone's talking about >The Night as usual, filling in the newcomers to What Was, and all that. >Well, since the EPA still thinks the place is a radioactive danger zone, >nobody's built a thing there, so there's nothing built over the site, >just the burned-out parking lot and a lot of barren earth." > >"But this time, there's a building there.." > >Chris turned on the computer on the desk, fingers dancing over the keys >in a familiar (to him) pattern. Spider Robinson watched the screen >expectantly, and raised an eyebrow as the following came up: > > 16 unread articles on alt.callahans-- read now?[ynq] > >Chris turned to look at the author, his index finger poised over the >"Y" key. "In the books you've said that Callahans existed, and was >available to those who found the Need To Find It. And you mentioned >in later stories that people actually tried to find it. Well, sir, >we think we've re-founded it." > >"We?" > >Chris hit the key... > *********** >"Drink, tell me I've had one too many. IS THAT WHAT I THINK IT IS?" >But Long-Drink McGonnigle wasn't listening. Slamming his size >nines on the brakes, the pickup skidded to a halt right >in front of the roadsign proclaiming the legend > > "CALLAHAN'S PLACE" > >in fresh white paint, lit by a trio of small lamps. Behind the truck >Jake heard the screech of brakes as the others tried to stop before >hitting the guy in fron to them. A soft *crunch* indicated not everyone >had succeeded. Jake was out of the cab in an instant, bending down in >front of the sign so that he could see it clearly. The words were >indeed what they seemed, though someone had marked in small black >lettering the word "alt" in front of the whole, invisible unless one >walked right up to the sign. Drink came up behind him, followed by >Fast Eddie, the latter swearing something along the lines of "'Wot th' >'ell didja stop like dat for? Ya wanna get us kilt or..say something along the lines of 'Sweet Jesus' or is that Jake?>" The >piano player's voice trailed off, and there was a sound like someone >leaning heavily against a pickup truck. "Willya lookat dat.." >Jake looked up from the sign, his gaze slowly following the piano player's >pointing finger to the building which stood where there was a scorched >hole in the ground not the year before. Before the building were a >few parked cars, a motorcycle, and the remains of someone's smashed >bicycle. The Place- for that was exactly what this building resembled - >was surrounded by a bit of evening mist, and if one looked too hard >seemed to shimmer slightly, as if it wasn't quite all there. > >*CLANK* > >"I wouldn't leave your cars out in the road like that, friends, when >there's still lots of space in the parking lot." The newcomer paused to >survey the small crowd of people standing in the road. "Wonderful. >It's going to be a busy night for me, it seems. Excuse me, I must be >going." He moved ahead, carrying his load of firewood with little effort, >clanking as he went. Jake, Long Drink, Eddie and the Doc watched silently >as the metal man, looking more the alien than Mickey Finn ever did, pushed >open the door and entered. The noise of a wild party filled the air > before the door closed again behind him. "If I'm not mistaken," spoke >the Doc, breaking the stunned silence, "that was none other than the >Tin Woodsman." Jake looked at the Doc, and said softly, "Indeed, he >definitely got our a-tin-sion." Doc smiled, and started heading for the >door, muttering, "Time to test our metal, rather than his, and see if >this is for real..everyone else, stay back." > >Jake watched as the Doc reached a window, tried to look through the >frosted glass, failed, and reached for the door handle. Jake heard >him take a deep breath, and saw him push the oaken door (with the split >in it still) open, and step inside-- or was he pulled inside? -- and the >door closed again with a bang. > >"Dimensional rift?", Noah Gonzalez murmured, from where he'd come up >to inspect the sign for himself. "That would account for the shimmering." >Jake nodded, and kept his eyes on the door. "If it's real, then it has >to be Callahan. I thought he said he wasn't coming back.." > >Just then the door opened again, and the Doc stuck his head out. "Come >on in, folks, you'll never believe it!" > >There was a mad dash for the door. > >Inside, the party stood in stunned silence at, well, the party they >saw within. It was, yet was not, the Place as they remembered it. >The bar was in the same place, as well as the all-important fireplace, >and the chalkline. An upright piano stood near a wall by the bar, and >Fast Eddie was already making a beeline for it. The rest were searching >the crowd of people and non-people (and there were a lot of them, >ranging from cats to oversized teddy bears to the Tin Woodsman-lookalike >they saw before..) for a certain red-haired Irishman... > >"Jake! Over here!" Jake turned to see a blond-haired youth, all grin, >waving at him from a chair near the bar. Standing next to him was >Mike Callahan, conversing with a beagle, of all things. Jake moved through >the crowd, leaving the others by the door, and reached over the bar >to hug the barkeep. He felt an electric tingle of sorts as he touched >him, but the bear hug was definitely one of Mike's trademark ones. >"I thought you said you weren't coming back!", Jake said, tears coming >to his eyes. "Where's Lady Sally, and the Finns? Are they back too?" > >"They can if you want them to be," said the young man who had hailed him >before. "'Bout time you got here, the Place needs better musicians >than the n-tet over there. Not that they're bad, they're actually >quite good, but the Place isn't the same without you and the Lady. >I'm Chris, and welcome to Callahan's. Or should I say, 'Welcome back'?" > >Fast Eddie struck up "There's No Place Like Home" on the upright, and >Jake turned to survey the room in general. Tom was already behind the >bar, helping Mike get the rest of the folks coming in the door drinks, >(after getting a strong handshake from Mike as well) while the Doc >had settled himself in his favorite chair near the Doc's chair is always in a certain spot> after first removing a bright >green tiger kitten from the seat. Jake noted the fact that the room didn't >seem to have any definite corners, rather they faded in and out of view >as he watched, though the fireplace, piano, bar, and door areas always >remained constant, along with several tables towards the middle of the >room. > >"Is this for real, or is it a dream, Chris?", Jake asked. > >"Actually, it's both. As Jilara over there will tell you, the >Cherokee have a belief that 'the world is a dream we are all dreaming >together.' and the bunch of us feel that Callahan's is a good dream >to keep alive. The Place is as real as the people who come here >make it, and we choose to make it reel, so feel free to movie around." > >"I ought to flick you one for that, young man.", said Doc Webster >before taking a sip of his drink. "I'll buy you a drink for that one, >film up!", someone else joined in. "Tom, is it a cinema to do so?" >a shadowy figure added. Jake laughed, and said, "Cut the theatrics. >Today isn't Punday.." > >And a good number of people shouted, > "At alt.Callahans, every day is Punday." > **************** > >Spider looked away from the screen at a grinning Chris Davis. "Who are >all these characters? And how come you specify there aren't any corners?" > >Chris laughed, and said, "The people on your screen are REAL, in reference >to the 'we' I mentioned before. This is a newsgroup in the Here and Now, >but as you saw, it's also a reality. The other 'characters' are subscribed >to the newsgroup as well, and all of us contribute to the truth as we >see it-- the Place can never die." > >"I see. So you have a local bunch of Mike's fans, all making up stories about >the books?" > >"Nope, the newsgroup is world-wide, and we're all part of one story. We >*live* the Place, though it's gone through a few changes to fit the >times. The reason for all the corners is we've got a lot of 'lurkers' >who invoke the 'no prying' rule, and there are more people hiding in >corners than we do at the tables. We needed more corners than was >topographically possible, so that people who needed a corner to themselves >could always find one. It's a reality that's fuzzy at the edges and >top" (Chris pointed at a posting from a green tiger sitting on a rafter) >"but then, isn't real life the same way? And speaking of fuzzies, here." > >Chris opened a desk drawer and pulled out a small, round object, resembling >a tribble. "This is for you, from all of us, for creating the Place >as we know it." He went to a closet, and hauled out a large box. >"Here's a record of the reality we're living, to take with you on the >plane. Enjoy." > >Spider was looking curiously at the first object. It seemed oddly alive, >and purred slightly to the touch. He suddenly remembered a children's >story. "A Warm Fuzzy?" , he queried. "Yep. A real one, too. Jake'll >find them all over the Place, since the bunch of us seem to generate >them faster than tribbles reproduce." > >-------------------------------------------------------------------------- < the following is not part of the story, just my thoughts on the Reality of Callahans...> >Taldin takes a long pull at his Spiked Apple Juice before speaking. > >"What is truth? You cannot say it is physical evidence, for then >there would be no True Love; though many truths are indeed solid. >By the same token, some things we can see are NOT truth-- as >much as iron pyrite looks like gold, it is not truly such. Reality >is not appearances -- it is the analyzing of an object, the trying >to understand it, and seeing if it matches something in one's >memory, so that we can say authoritavely, "This is A Rock" >or "This is A Tree" because we have been taught the truth of >these things. Now, the truth is virtual-- I can say, >"This is a Scottish Pine Tree" and be wrong, but until someone >shows me otherwise, it is the truth to me, because I believe it >to be such a tree. Now what if I lived in the woods, and nobody >ever told me I was wrong? Or if I told someone else that this >tree was a Scots Pine and they believed me? Then my 'truth' >has been perpetuated, and it is further a reality. I believe >a good example of the frailty of truth is Orwell's 1984; >partway through the book they change the mindset of the >general populace, saying that they were always at war with a >country they were allies with three days ago. Sadly, all th >people in the book believe it, and it becomes the truth to them. >I guess what I am trying to say, is, Callahans is real; >it is Truth as far as I am concerned, and others here I'm sure >will agree with me. *WE* believe in this Truth we call The Place, >and we choose to project the Truth of ourselves there. >Personnas are the Inner Self of the poster; the critter the >person in the Here and Now most aligns him/herself with. If >one chooses to see what's on the outside of a person, their >real appearance, as the Truth of that person, then they are >blind to some Realities, for (to quote the Doctor) > >"It's not what's on the outside that counts, but what's on >the inside." > >And while on the outside looking in, Callahan's is a virtual >space in a newsgroup, those of us on the inside believe it >to be real, as well as those of us who patronize the Place >believe in each other as they are. > >Taldin walks the distance (distance=movement=travel=location=real-space..) >to the chalkline (destination=real-space=reality) and bowls >his mug into the fire. > >>>CRASH<< "To the Reality OF The Place!!!" > > -Taldin > >P.S. The above story (in case you didn't know) is the unofficial >chronicle of alt.callahans, which I am endeavoring to write. >I'd like to hear input from people on what more should be added, >and right after this post I'll repost the article about the >book. Remember, this is about all of YOU, so if YOU are a believer >in the Callahans Truth, then do be included in it! >And again, if I didn't mention you in the list of people that >got originally posted with the idea, IT DOES NOT MEAN YOU DON'T COUNT! >It means I didn't recollect you offhand at 2am on a Thursday morning >after a week of tests and projects. > >(with a dangerous glint in his eye) >"And I don't appreciate complaints about 'being forgotten' and then >you don't send me what I need to add you...ye gods, I even have >Lurkers sending me stuff, and I take those too, though in that case >I don't know really where to put you other than incidental cameos.. >But you will be indeed Thayer, Sam..("Unnatural Causes",CCS) when >the final draft is done." > >Taldin looks down, and discovers, not surprisingly, that he is >standing on FOUR soap boxes. "I can take a hint, someone else >take the floor." > >Taldin jumps down, and goes back to his seat, firstly shapeshifting >back to human, to accept a warm fuzzy from Lyra with a bow. >He gives her a blue and silver one in return. > > >-- >"You are blue, Unicorn.. the Blue of clear, cloudless days where >everything seems like it's going right and nothing could go wrong.. >and the Blue of despair and lonliness." -The Raven > Taldin The Blue Unicorn in real life: jefyoung@pawl.rpi.edu -- "You are blue, Unicorn.. the Blue of clear, cloudless days where everything seems like it's going right and nothing could go wrong.. and the Blue of despair and lonliness." -The Raven Taldin The Blue Unicorn in real life: jefyoung@pawl.rpi.edu Path: mit-eddie!bbn!usc!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!rpi!jefyoung From: jefyoung@pawl.rpi.edu (Jeffrey Young) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: "Look out world, here I come." Message-ID: Date: 10 Apr 90 22:20:51 GMT References: <9004101359.AA09379@fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM> Organization: Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, Troy NY Lines: 84 Taldin, in his real-side form, wanders over to where Hildy is sitting at the poker table. "There's a message for you in your box from me, if it doesn't get there, lemme know. in a few days. Also, I searched my back articles, and can't find the one where you walked in, perhaps it's bounced at a lot of sites. When did you post it?" He walks to the bar, exchanges a dollar for a Spiked Apple Juice. Because he feels like it, he hops up to sit cross-legged on the bar. Mike frowns slightly , but indulges him-- heck, he's had a beagle fall asleep on the bar once... (everyone remember Jamie Lynn Smith? Anyone know where she's vaporized to?) "Up on a soap-box-- or should I say, more accurately, soap-bar," (he winces as peanuts hit him) "this thing about the world and how it tends to not notice people who don't stand out. There have been stories written about futuristic societies where everyone no longer has a name, just a number, and it's a world of cold machinery and high-speed technology. For me, those are the horror stories-- because noone in these stories cares, except for their identical looking spotless cubicle in the huge city. I say they wouldn't last a year. Yet that is the direction we are headed in, in this land where most people are too busy making money to give you the time of day. I don't like it, and I don't know what I'd do without Callahans here to show that not everyone is like that. We won't ignore anyone who doesn't want to be ignored, and there can be caring for those who ask for it. " Taldin looks up at the rafters. "I am not afraid of getting near to you. A bomb may be dangerous to touch, but it is going to explode eventually. Someone has got to take the risk of disarming it. We don't want you to go *BOOM* again, you know.. exploding tigers make a nasty mess, worse than Thalen's cranberry juice." Looking back at Alex "Hi there. I've heard Jilara's story before, as I date back in a.c. as long as she does, and I'd wonder if there's more to that alter-ego of yours than meets the eye. As Thalen over there says, "people have to have a darker side to match their lighter one.." but perhaps you can answer me this-- I've run into quite a few people now, that if the world does something to them that they don't like, they decide to take revenge on it , actively trying to hurt people.. WHAT IS THIS THAT MAKES PEOPLE DO THIS?" The last is not a shout, so much as an empathic broadcast of puzzlement and despair. Taldin's voice never goes up in volume. Yelling only wastes hot air. "I don't see why people shut down their feelings once they've been hurt, and go out and hurt other people's feelings. 'Make the world pay..' because of something in your life that caused you pain.. so you go out and inflict pain on other innocent people, and one or more of them does the same and.." (he pauses, his gaze sweeping the room, stopping here and there..) "..And the world dies. We'll all be dead of broken hearts." "I portray a Unicorn here in Callahans because Unicorns are the healers, pure and true. I never want to hurt anyone, because it is senseless and pain is not a thing one should ever have to have in the place of love. I am an empath, and to cause pain to another causes me pain. So that's why I don't. Why must some of you find it in your hearts to take revenge on those who do not deserve your rage?" "Alex, if it seems like I'm singling you out, I'm sorry. I'm not. You were just the last one to bring it up, and I've been being rather hard on myself for someone I've hurt recently. I wish you luck in the dark times ahead of you, and hope you can come through with minimal damage. Talk to your advisor-- they may be able to swing something for you." -Taldin The Blue Unicorn _Defender Of Light_ -- "You are blue, Unicorn.. the Blue of clear, cloudless days where everything seems like it's going right and nothing could go wrong.. and the Blue of despair and lonliness." -The Raven Taldin The Blue Unicorn in real life: jefyoung@pawl.rpi.edu Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!brutus.cs.uiuc.edu!apple!sun-barr!newstop!exodus!cognito.Eng.Sun.COM!randolph From: randolph@cognito.Eng.Sun.COM (Randolph Fritz) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Morpheus (was Re: Some joy to share) Summary: I can name that tune . . . Keywords: Muzik Message-ID: <137@exodus.Eng.Sun.COM> Date: 29 Mar 90 03:51:15 GMT References: <14538@reed.UUCP> <14539@reed.UUCP> Sender: news@exodus.Eng.Sun.COM Distribution: alt Lines: 48 "Ho! Thalen!" a man in black and cream calls from a previously dark corner, "The songs are all by Al Stewart." 1. "Oh, who will walk the stony roads of Merlin's time? And keep the watch along the borderline. And who will play the story told in song and rhyme, On shepherd's pipes of Merlin's time." Is from "Merlin's Time" (I think! -- but I'm not going home to check) from the album *24 pCarrots*. The last two lines are (sings, badly) "And who will hear the legends passed in song and rhyme/Upon the shepherd's pipes of Merlin's time." 2. "And it's cold and damp, in the transit camp, and the air is still and sullen, And the (?) sun of October whispers 'The snow will soon be coming.' And I wonder when I'll be home again, and the morning answers 'Never.' And the evening sighs, and the steely Russian skies go on Forever." Is from "Roads to Moscow," from the album *Past, Present, & Future". The forgotten word is "pale". 3. "Well, the dawn comes and you're still with her, And the bus and the tourists are gone. And you've thrown away your choice, and lost your ticket, And you have to stay on. But the drumbeat strains of the night remain, and the rhythm of the newborn day. You know some time you're bound to leave her, but for now you're gonna stay, -----------------------------" In the "Year of the Cat!" which is both song & album title (and I'm pretty sure it made top 40 -- I hope everyone got it!) Now I have one! It's a bit more obscure, at least in the USA. Same terms: title, group, and album. A drink for the first one who gets it! In a faintly Scots accent: Circle the moon, circle the sun Fill the earth with love And let the sweet river run full of life Begin again as it began. (and in that accent the first and last lines just about rhyme.) __Randolph Fritz sun!cognito.eng!randolph || randolph@eng.sun.com Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!usc!apple!sun-barr!newstop!exodus!cognito.Eng.Sun.COM!randolph From: randolph@cognito.Eng.Sun.COM (Randolph Fritz) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: about music Summary: One more time . . . Keywords: Muzik Message-ID: <150@exodus.Eng.Sun.COM> Date: 5 Apr 90 00:24:45 GMT References: <14538@reed.UUCP> <14539@reed.UUCP> <4043@scorn.sco.COM> Sender: news@exodus.Eng.Sun.COM Reply-To: randolph@cognito.Eng.Sun.COM (Randolph Fritz) Distribution: alt Organization: Sun Microsystems, Inc. Mt. View, Ca. Lines: 54 I posted this last Thursday (March 29) & I don't think it made it out. So . . . "Ho! Thalen!" a man in black and cream calls from a previously dark corner, "The songs are all by Al Stewart." 1. "Oh, who will walk the stony roads of Merlin's time? And keep the watch along the borderline. And who will play the story told in song and rhyme, On shepherd's pipes of Merlin's time." Is from "Merlin's Time" (I think! -- but I'm not going home to check) [since I last posted this I have checked -- it is!] from the album *24 pCarrots*. The last two lines are (sings, badly) "And who will hear the legends passed in song and rhyme/Upon the shepherd's pipes of Merlin's time." 2. "And it's cold and damp, in the transit camp, and the air is still and sullen, And the (?) sun of October whispers 'The snow will soon be coming.' And I wonder when I'll be home again, and the morning answers 'Never.' And the evening sighs, and the steely Russian skies go on Forever." Is from "Roads to Moscow," from the album *Past, Present, & Future". The forgotten word is "pale". 3. "Well, the dawn comes and you're still with her, And the bus and the tourists are gone. And you've thrown away your choice, and lost your ticket, And you have to stay on. But the drumbeat strains of the night remain, and the rhythm of the newborn day. You know some time you're bound to leave her, but for now you're gonna stay, -----------------------------" In the "Year of the Cat!" which is both song & album title (and I'm pretty sure it made top 40 -- I hope everyone got it!) Now I have one! It's a bit more obscure, at least in the USA. Same terms: title, group, and album. A drink for the first one who gets it! In a faintly Scots accent: Circle the moon, circle the sun Fill the earth with love And let the sweet river run full of life Begin again as it began. (and in that accent the first and last lines just about rhyme.) (It's a really pretty, simple song & I wish I could sing well enough to sing it.) __Randolph Fritz sun!cognito.eng!randolph || randolph@eng.sun.com Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!yale!cs.utexas.edu!wuarchive!psuvax1!xavier!news From: jdh92@campus.swarthmore.edu (Hildebaby) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Controlled schizophrenia Message-ID: Date: 11 Apr 90 01:41:51 GMT Sender: news@xavier.swarthmore.edu (USENET News System) Organization: Ministry of Propaganda - SWIL Lines: 51 As Alex prepares to sing his comics filk, Hildebaby tosses a few peanuts in his direction, but his mind is elsewhere reviewing what Alex has said. As Alex sings he notices that Nao is looking morose and uncomfortable. A few minutes after he finishes, Hildebaby stands up. "Alex, whatever you do, do not let that dark side of you win. I've seen occasions where it has started to emerge and it is scary. Do not loose faith in yourself as a good person and most of all, do not loose faith in your ability to deal with other people. I think something many of us here at Swarthmore have been fortunate enough to discover is that we do not have to be loners. I was one before I got here, but I've been pulled out of that. Even when I go into the real world beyond, I will have the knowledge that I _can_ interact with other people. I think to a certain extent Callahan's does that as well. I think you had taken off by the time I showed this particular Doctor Who episode, but I think the quote fits. "If you need something to believe in, believe in me." You have stood by me and been there to talk on a couple occasions when I needed it and I'm willing to repay that favor. You know where I am if you want to talk." Then with a grin he adds, "Or if you just want to read those two issues of Cerebus you haven't gotten to yet." Turning to Nao he pauses. "As always, I feel I'm at a loss for words. You're having to deal with situations I never have faced. However please keep on muddling through, and as with Alex, you know where I am if you need to talk." He plucks one of the fuzzies from the color of his t-shirt and then looks a little startled as it briefly disappears and then reappears. "Oops, that's my quantum fuzzy. It seems to be visible more often these days, I guess I'm doing better. However that's not the one I wanted. Aha here we go, this is the one you gave me. I think you need it more than I do." As he starts to hand it to here it suddenly squeals and splits into three seperate fuzzies. One zips back to his collar and the others hang in the air. "Hmm, I guess I can generate them after all." He hands one to Nao and one to Alex. Hildebaby then looks around. "My apologies to you all for talking to friends this way and ignoring the rest, but it felt in the mood of this place. I guess it's just my way of expressing my belief in the idea that 'Pain shared is pain lessened.'" Picking up his drink from the table he walks to the line. "To having faith in the ability of others to help." <> -Jeff =-=-=-=-=-=-="Unprepared! That's the student's marching song."-=-=-=-=-=-=- Jeff Hildebrand Swarthmore College, Swarthmore PA 19081 JDH92@campus.swarthmore.edu or JDH92@SWARTHMR.BITNET "I plan to live forever or die trying" - Vila, Blake's 7 "I want to see the universe, not rule it!" - The Doctor, Doctor Who Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!yale!cs.utexas.edu!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!ucbvax!HPLRED.HPL.HP.COM!egly From: egly@HPLRED.HPL.HP.COM (Diana Egly) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Returns Message-ID: Date: 11 Apr 90 02:15:28 GMT Sender: daemon@ucbvax.BERKELEY.EDU Lines: 90 The door to Callahan's opens and a figure stands in it for a moment and then Diana walks in. There is a subtle difference in her but it's hard to identify just what it is. Perhaps it's how she carries herself or perhaps it's that she's wearing a very business-like suit instead of her normal sweatpants and tee shirt. Perhaps it's the hair or the glasses. but most likely it's something else, something undefinable, perhaps even something untangible. She looks Mike in the eye and says, "lemon water." As she accepts the glass from Callahan, she puts a crumpled single on the counter and walks over to the chalk line. As she sips the lemon water, she ad-dresses the gang: Some of you may be underwear that I temporarily suspendered my participation at Callahans. Now I'm ready to slip back in. I seem to be, as you can see, of a more uniform size. Though complete size stabilization will never suit me. I shoes to return now that the intensity of my emotions no longer blouse me away. My departure was not a means of skirting some problem, but an un-earring instinct for preservation. Corset's easy to muff that sort of thing, so I'm greatful to those who wandered along with me. And hats off to those who lent me a hand (and she opens her hand in front of her those close to the fireplace notice a glinter of light flashing off of a tin hand) and to those who offered toupee for a drink for me. Though I've been stocking up on the puns, I truss you're willing for me cease my off the cuff remarks. I'll cap this off, if I can find a ready-made clothes... While I've been away from The Place, waiting for more solid ground to stand on, I've thought on many things related to Callahan's. Why most of the humor makes me sadder than I was before. What kind of atmosphere I find safe and supportive and whether it can or should exist at Callahans. What sort of pain (or joy) can be shared and what sort can't. There may be some relationship between all of these things. I expect I'll touch on many of these thoughts in future postings, but for now I want to talk about sharing pain. It seems that the model of shared pain in Callahan's, if I were to reduce it to basic elements is: (1) situation or experience in the present or past leads to painful feelings, (2) talking about the situation to people who listen and care will reduce the pain. For those circumstances that conform to this model, this seems an effective paradigm. BUT (Spider Robinson forgive me because I am about to blaspheme) I think there are situations where the paradigm doesn't work. When feelings are not a reaction to external events, the paradigm doesn't work because the person can't always tell you why they feel what they feel. I first observed this with a friend of mine in high school. Occasionally, she would become irritable for no apparent reason. And her bad mood would rapidly get worse. She's get angry and irrational and belligerant. Maybe even violent. And then she'd go into insulin shock. Her mood extremes were just about the only observable indication that her blood chemistry was off. That she needed sugar fast. Since then I've known a variety of people for whom mood was an expression of a medical or physiological problem. Now when you assume that someone with strong feelings needs to talk about their problem, you may be missing the point. Sometimes feelings are the problem (as we used to say at the Bridge, a peer counselling place at Stanford.) Sometimes feelings are an expression of a physiological problem. You can't be sure. Often neither can the person whose experiencing those feelings. (My diabetic friend never believed that she needed sugar or that she was unusually irritable...) Spider Robinson's Callahan stories didn't include any people or situations like this. They're fiction and so Spider can choose plots that will make his point. But (in case you haven't noticed) the people here at alt.callahans are real and a single, simple, one-size-fits-all paradigm of how to help may not be best. So what's that mean for alt.callahans? I'm tempted to say that I will leave this question as an exercise to the reader. But I'm well aware that some of my readers (and at this point she finally looks around the room, making significant eye contact with some of the regulars here) have already mastered the exercise. With that she turns towards the bar and says "Mike, I need another lemon water. And another. And another." And as her glass crashes into the fireplace, she says: "To nuances - may we live to appreciate them." Path: mit-eddie!bloom-beacon!shelby!csli!cphoenix From: cphoenix@csli.Stanford.EDU (Chris Phoenix) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: WARNING Keywords: Touch Message-ID: <13045@csli.Stanford.EDU> Date: 11 Apr 90 01:57:56 GMT References: <15156@phoenix.Princeton.EDU> <14660@reed.UUCP> Sender: cphoenix@csli.Stanford.EDU (Chris Phoenix) Reply-To: cphoenix@csli.stanford.edu (Chris Phoenix) Organization: Center for the Study of Language and Information, Stanford U. Lines: 35 In article <14660@reed.UUCP> thalen@reed.UUCP (Dr. Paradox) writes: > Thalen looks around. {Picture this. An entire dorm, in on a Psych >experiment. Except one person. All of the others are instructed not to touch >this person, and not to get within about two feet of them, all while acting >just the same as they always did otherwise. And instructed to actively >discourage any touching by this person. Fascinating. (One raised eyebrow.) I didn't realize that this had actually been tried as an experiment. It's happening, every day, here at Stanford! Maybe I have the wrong kind of friends. But I can go for several days without being touched. In fact, I'm often forced to. I don't have a SO at the moment, and most people around here, even friends, Don't Touch. Personal space seems to be at least two feet wide. If you invade it, the other person will often leave. Even if you sit down next to someone and watch TV, they'll get up and leave! If you walk too close to someone, they'll back away, or sideways, or wherever you aren't. It's a real rejection. And so it's not just that they discourage touching. They force you to discourage touching! Talk about cruel... Does anyone have a solution? Naaah. This is even worse than those social rules I yelled about a few months ago, and no one had a solution for those either. >The results? If the person doesn't >have someone outside the dorm that they are close to, they quickly become >jumpy, irritable, and perpetually nervous. After less time than you think, >(I don't have exact figures, and don't remember), the subject is neglecting >homework, and becoming apathetic, while still *VERY* nervous and irritable. Hmmm... sounds familiar... -- Chris Phoenix | "I've spent the last nine years structuring my cphoenix@csli.Stanford.EDU | life so that this couldn't happen." ...And I only kiss your shadow, I cannot see your hand, you're a stranger now unto me, lost in the dangling conversation, and the superficial sighs... Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!apple!mips!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!samsung!noose.ecn.purdue.edu!mentor.cc.purdue.edu!f3w From: f3w@mentor.cc.purdue.edu (Mark Gellis) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Hello, did any one hear me? Message-ID: <9511@mentor.cc.purdue.edu> Date: 11 Apr 90 06:15:48 GMT References: <11551@encore.Encore.COM> <79081@tut.cis.ohio-state.edu> Reply-To: f3w@mentor.cc.purdue.edu (Mark Gellis) Organization: Purdue University Lines: 42 In article <79081@tut.cis.ohio-state.edu> Thenomain writes: >In article <11551@encore.Encore.COM> terryk@pinocchio (Terence Kelleher) writes: >>A voice picks up from the padded bar stool where the woman in the >>muted paisley sweater is sitting. >> >>"Am I missing some inside jokes or something? Other than a couple >>generic hellos, no one seems to want to answer me. Have I turned >>invisible? Or is there some requisite pain that one has to share to >>be included? Maybe since I am not a college student (nor ever was >>one) or going through a painful break up, there is no place for me >>here? I feel I should apologize for being happy or not knowing one of >>you on the outside. Is this true? Deal me in for one hand at poker >>and I'll tell a story." > Seriously, I've been feeling this way myself. I have been virtually ignored since I came in. Now, to be fair, I have tried not to push myself on people, and have tried to simply toss in a comment here and there and wait, politely, for a response. As in the real world, it is not polite to force your way in to a group of people, even a group that has, by coming to a certain locale, admitted that it is interested in making new friends. You enter a conversation gradually, let people get to know you, let them feel comfortable with you, and so on. I have, the Man Who Talked with Books continued, been pretty damn lucky. My parents love me. My academic career, despite a few obstacles, is going pretty well (my major professor just told me he felt the Special Field was ready to go to the rest of the committee, so I may be dissertating in a few weeks). I have my health (at least, I am not aware of cancer or anything equally cheerful). I have no money problems. I did break up with the woman I was engaged to for two years, about two months ago, but we both know it was for the best, and we are both still friends. My biggest problem right now is that I am not involved with anyone right now, and I enjoy being in a relationship. (Hey, I find women interesting; I must be some kind of fiend, right?) Okay, I need to lose about ten pounds, and maybe I drink a little more than I should (about two beers a night...ooo, serious problem here). I like to talk to people. That's the main reason why I stepped in. So, and here perhaps is the sixty-four trillion dollar question, what do you have to do to get people in Callahan's to talk back? He sips his Harp, and waits.