http://www.joke-archives.com/toplist...bulbjokes.html

THE CANONICAL COLLECTION OF LIGHT BULB JOKES

Q: How many Californians does it take to change a light bulb?
A: Six. One to turn the bulb, one for support, and four to relate to the
experience.

Q: How many Oregonians does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: Five. One to change the bulb, and four more to chase off the Californians
who have come up to relate to the experience.

Q: How many New Yorkers does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A1: None of your damn business!
A2: 50. 50? Yeah, 50! It's in the contract.

Q: How many WASPs does it take to change a light bulb?
A: Two. One to call the electrician and one to mix the martinis.

Q: How many data base people does it take to change a light bulb?
A: Three: One to write the light bulb removal program,One to write the
light bulb insertion program, and one to act as a light bulb dministrator
to make sure that nobody else tries to change the bulb at

Q: How many straight San Franciscans does it take to change a light bulb?
A: Both of them.

Q: How many Zen masters does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: Two. One to change the bulb and one not to change it. Note: 1 to change
and 1 not to change is fake Zen. The true Zen answer is four. One to change
the bulb.

Q: How many Carl Sagans does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: Billions and billions.

Q: How many folk singers does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: Two: One to change the bulb, and one to write a song about how good the
old light bulb was.

Q: How many surrealists does it take to change a light bulb?
A: Two: One to hold the giraffe, and the other to fill the bathtub with
brightly colored machine tools.

Q: How many gorillas does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: Only one, but it sure takes a shitload of light bulbs!

http://www.joke-archives.com/toplist...bulbjokes.html

THE CANONICAL COLLECTION OF LIGHT BULB JOKES (part2)

Q: How many doctors does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: Three: One to find a bulb specialist, one to find a bulb installation
specialist, and one to bill it all to Medicare.

Q: How many psychologists does it take to change a light bulb?
A: None, the bulb will change itself when it is ready.

Q: What is the difference between a pregnant woman and a light bulb?
A: You can unscrew a light bulb.

Q: How many managers does it take to change a light bulb?
A: Three: One to get the bulb and two to get the phone number to dial one of
their subordinates to actually change it.

Q: How many IBM types does it take to change a light bulb?
A: 100. Ten to do it, and 90 to write document number GC7500439-001,
Multitasking Incandescent Source System Facility, of which 10% of the pages
state only "This page intentionally left blank", and 20% of the definitions ar
e of the form "A ------" consists of sequences of non-blank characters
separated by blanks".

Q: How many Bratzlaver Chassidim does it take to change a light bulb?
A: None. They will never find one that burned as brightly as the first one.

Q: How many gays does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: Two: One to screw it in, and the other to say "Fabulous!"

Q: How many professors does it take to change a light bulb?
A: Only one, but they get three tech. reports out of it.

Q: How many people from New Jersey does it take to change a light bulb?
A: Three: One to change the bulb, one to witness, and the third to shoot the
witness.

Q: How many psychiatrists does it take to change a light bulb?
A: Only one, but the bulb has got to really WANT to change.

Q: How many programmers does it take to change a light bulb?
A: None. That's a hardware problem.

Q: How many Unix hacks does it take to change a light bulb?
A: As many as you want; they're all virtual anyway.

Q: How many Bell Labs Vice Presidents does it take to change a light bulb?
A: That's proprietary information. Answer available from AT&T on payment of
license fee.

Q: How many graduate students does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: Only one, but it may take upwards of five years for him to get it done.

http://www.joke-archives.com/toplist...bulbjokes.html

THE CANONICAL COLLECTION OF LIGHT BULB JOKES (part3)

Q: How many "Real Men" does it take to change a light bulb?
A1: None. "Real Men" aren't afraid of the dark.
A2: None of your damn business!

Q: How many "Real Women" does it take to change a light bulb?
A: None. A "Real Woman" would have plenty of real men around to do it.

Q: How many Jewish mothers does it take to change a light bulb?
A: None. ("That's all right... I'll just sit here in the dark...")

Q: How many mice does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: Two. (Hint: they are small enough to fit inside)

Q: How many Polacks does it take to change a light bulb?
A: Just one, but you need 6000 Russian troops in case he goes on strike!

Q: How many WASPs does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: Silly, WASPs don't screw in a light bulb, they screw in a hot tub.

Q: How many Marxists does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: None: The light bulb contains the seeds of its own revolution.

Q: How many Generals/Politicians does it take to change a light bulb?
A: 1,000,001: One to change the bulb, and 1,000,000 to rebuild civilization
to the point where they need light bulbs again.

Q: How many med students does it take to change a light bulb?
A: Five: One to change the bulb and four to pull the ladder out from under
him.

Q: How many Christians does it take to change a light bulb?
A: Three, but they're really one.

Q: How many jugglers does it take to change a light bulb?
A: One, but it takes at least three light bulbs.

Q: How many feminists does it take to change a light bulb?
A: That's not funny!

Q: How many supply-siders does it take to change a light bulb?
A: None. The darkness will cause the light bulb to change by itself.

http://www.joke-archives.com/toplist...bulbjokes.html

THE CANONICAL COLLECTION OF LIGHT BULB JOKES (part4)

Q: How many supply-side economists does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: None. If the government would just leave it alone, it would screw itself
in.

Q: How many does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: 10: One to hold the bulb and nine to rotate the ladder.

Q: How many strong does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: 115: One to hold the bulb and 114 to rotate the house.

Q: How many gods does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: Two: One to hold the bulb and the other to rotate the planet.

Q: How many people does it take to throw away a one Watt bulb?
A: Five: A Black, a Jew, two women, and a cripple...

Q: How many cops does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: None. It turned itself in.

Q: How many nuclear engineers does it take to change a light bulb?
A: Seven: One to install the new bulb, and six to figure what to do with
the old one for the next 10,000 years.

Q: How many lawyers does it take to change a light bulb?
A: How many can you afford?

Q: How many football players does it take to change a light bulb?
A: The entire team! And they all get a semester's credit for it!

Q: How many lesbians does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: Three: One to screw it in, and two to talk about how much better it is
than with a man.

Q: How many thought police does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: None. There never *was* any light bulb.

Q: How many federal employees does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: Sorry, that item was cut from the budget!

Q: How many brewers does it take to change a light bulb?
A: One-third less than for a regular bulb.

Q: How many Jewish-American Princesses does it take to screw in a light
bulb?
A: Two: One to get a Tab, and one to call Daddy.

Q: How many accountants does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: What kind of answer did you have in mind?

Q: How many economists does it take to change a light bulb?
A: Two: One to change the bulb, and the other to assume the ladder.

http://www.joke-archives.com/toplist...bulbjokes.html

THE CANONICAL COLLECTION OF LIGHT BULB JOKES (part5)

Q: How many mystery writers does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: Two: One to screw it almost all the way in and the other to give it a
surprising twist at the end.

Q: How many existentialists does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: Two: One to screw it in and one to observe how the light bulb itself
symbolizes a single incandescent beacon of subjective reality in a
netherworld of endless absurdity reaching out toward a cosmos of nothingness.

Q: How many junkies does it take to change a light bulb?
A: Who says it's dark?

Q: How many consultants does it take to change a light bulb?
A: I'll have an estimate for you a week from Monday.

Q: How many U.S. Marines does it take to change a light bulb?
A: 50: One to screw in the bulb and 49 to guard him.

Q: How many members of the Impossible Missions Force does it take to
change a light bulb?
A: Five: While Cinnamon creates a diversion by wearing a skimpy dress, I use
a tiny narcotic dart to knock out the fascist dictator and remove his body.
Rollin, wearing a plastic mask, masquerades as the dictator long enough for
Barney to sneak up to the next floor, drill a hole down into the light
fixture, remove the burned-out bulb, and replace it with a new super-high
wattage model of his own design. Meanwhile, Willie has driven up to the door
in a laundry truck. Just before Rollin's real identity is revealed, we escape
to the laundry truck, drive to the airfield, and return to the United States.

Q: How many technical writers does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: Just one, provided there's a programmer around to explain how to do it.

Q: How many editors of Poor Richard's Almanac does it take to replace a light
bulb?
A: Many hands make light work.

Q: How many Harvard students does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: Just one. He holds the light bulb and the universe revolves around him.

http://www.cyberslayer.co.uk/jokes/joke1208.html

Rabbi Priest Joke

A rabbi and a priest were talking shop.
The priest began, "If I am successful, preach excellent sermons,
and please my superiors, eventually I may become a Bishop."
"That's very nice," said the rabbi.
"And then," the priest continued, "if all goes well, within a few
more years, I can become a Cardinal."
"I'm glad you have so many opportunities for advancement," said
the rabbi.
"It's highly unlikely," said the priest, "but, at least theoretically,
I could even become pope."
"Mazeltov," said the rabbi, "but for me, as a Rabbi, I just stay a
Rabbi. That's what there is. But I suppose that after being pope you could
even become God."
"Oh no," said the priest, "no one can become God, that's blasphemous."
Replied the rabbi: "Well, one of our boys made it."

http://www.cyberslayer.co.uk/jokes/joke0419.html

* A Day in the Life of a Computer Addict *

8:45 Get up.
9:01 Eat something that doesn't have to be cooked so that you can eat it
while logging in to the computer.
9:02 Login.
9:17 Read email from people around the world.
9:22 Reply to everyone's email.
9:25 Debate whether or not to irc or icb (both pretty much the same thing).
9:26 Decide that ICB is what you want, and login into it.
9:30 Talk to the people you just emailed and tell them all about the email
you just sent them.
10:02 Say hi to all "newbies".
10:04 *Hug* all the new people.
10:06 Ask for a gender check, to make sure you hugged the right kind of
people.
10:23 Tell a viscous joke and get booted from the group you are in.
10:31 Do /w to find the group with the most people who are the least idle.
10:42 Tell someone you are going to email them, but don't.
11:22 Give someone your phone #, with the strict rules to call only during
daylight hours for your timezone, which they have no idea what it is.
11:34 Change to your own group, and as moderator make it completely
restricted.
11:35 Invite 10 people into your restricted group, making it the largest
group on ICB and making you feel like a real popular person.
11:37 Boot half of the people you invited, because you suddenly realize the
group is too big and you want just an "elite" crowd.
12:00 Break for lunch. Go into a separate group called "Lunch".
12:25 Back from lunch, restart your elite group.

http://www.cyberslayer.co.uk/jokes/joke0419.html

A Day in the Life of a Computer Addict:(part2)

12:33 Flirt with that person from USC, promise to exchange pictures through
boring "snail mail".
12:57 Enter huge debate about which smiley face is the best seen on a
computer screen.
1:07 Boot anyone who disagrees with you.
1:17 Spend much time not talking to your group, since you are /m'ing private
messages to people you don't know, nor probably would want to if you
ever saw them in person.
1:45 Say "brb" and go answer that talk request.
2:01 Back in the group, you see most of the members were idle without your
brilliant icb presence to keep them talking.
2:14 Yell at the idlers to "get a life".
2:17 Boot the idlers. Invite more people into your elite group.
2:22 /w a thousand times in a effort to find that one person you are hoping
to see on ICB.
2:44 Talk to the person sitting next to you and 3 other people in the same
room as you, via ICB.
3:15 Change group topic six times in an effort to correctly spell that funny
line you heard on Letterman last night that is now your funny topic.
4:04 Make plans to come visit everyone next time you make it out that way.
4:17 Someone told a joke that makes you laugh out loud. You try to stifle
the laugh so that the rest of the people in the computer lab don't
think you are whacked because you are laughing at a computer screen.
Type "hahaha" or "hee hee" to let your fellow ICB'ers know you are
laughing at their remark, even though it doesn't convey the fact that
you have just peed in your pants.
4:44 Do a /w. Realize there are some geeks who have been on since 8am!
Make funny remarks about them needing to "buy a life" and so on.
When someone remarks that you have been on since nearly 9am, boot them.
5:03 Break for dinner. Change group name to "Dinner" as all your groupmates
go off to eat also.

http://www.cyberslayer.co.uk/jokes/joke0419.html

A Day in the Life of a Computer Addict:(part3)

5:39 Back from dinner. Beep everyone to wake them up.
5:47 Wonder why the joints in your fingers creak, your neck aches, and your
eyes can no longer differentiate between objects in real life and on a
computer terminal.
6:18 Complain about the "lag from hell". Realize it might be because you
threw 7 processes in the background that are hogging up your CPU time.
6:20 Kill all the unused processes.
6:22 Complain about the "damn lag" again, and agree that the computer should
be updated so that useful educational programs such as ICB can
run faster.
6:59 The person you have been waiting for all day logs in and enters your
group. Just as you are about to say "hi", they log off, most likely call
waiting nuked their connection.
7:02 Swear using all the @#$%^&*(characters to be damn sure not to offend
your fucking groupmates who obviously have a shit life and are
addicted, unlike you who can quit this anytime.
7:27 After waiting around, you realize the person must be involved in a long
phone call, and decided to logoff.
7:29 Decide not to logoff. What else is there to do tonight?? Star Trek:
The Next Generation is a re-run.
7:47 They log back into your group, and tell you it was their significant
other (not a computer user) who called them (the nerve!) and nuked
their connection.
8:04 Start /m'ing someone from the west coast, and begin flirting over the
net. Denote all your net actions with *'s surrounding what you do
(*massage so-and-so* *kiss* *hug* etc.)
8:20 Engage in some steamy net sex and hope the person isn't *really*
getting off on it (it's only a computer, after all).
8:22 Have a net cigarette.
8:24 Exchange physical descriptions of each other with the other user.
Exaggerate your looks since after all, they will never see you in real
life, right?!
9:05 Say hi to all the new people who logged in and haven't been on all day,
since they have lives/aren't addicts.
9:11 Kid around that you are "addicted" but then really wonder if you are.
9:12 Deny your addiction...after all, you do know people outside of the
computer too!

http://www.cyberslayer.co.uk/jokes/joke0419.html

A Day in the Life of a Computer Addict:(part4)

10:37 *yawn* and *sigh* to signify your boredom and desire for a significant
other. Realize your best chance of meeting anybody is through this
damn machine that you have been logged into for over 13 hours straight.
11:57 Debate going home, but then realize all the neat people from the west
coast are just beginning to login, because of the time difference.
12:35 Break for a snack. Say you will "brb", one of many clever acronyms you
use to save keystrokes, along with "bbl" for "be back later" and
"ttfn" for "ta-ta for now".
1:56 Remind yourself to write some crazy file about a day in the life of a
computer addict but realize you have to be one to write it.
2:10 Realize you ARE one and decide it is just about time to logoff.
2:16 Net crash. Log back in.
2:17 Remark how the "net goes up and down like a two bit prostitute."
2:57 Heck, the sun will be up soon, and how often do you get to see the sunri
se. Might as well stay logged in.
3:50 Think to yourself that maybe you should do your masters thesis on sleep
deprivation and the effects of computer addiction, if you ever get your
bachelors degree.
4:34 Start great philosophical debate: If people from finland's email
addresses end in .fi, and people from japan's addresses end in .jp,
israel in .il, and so on; then why do people from the US end in .edu?
5:00 Go home, take some aspirin for the headache after debating one of the
greatest unknowns of our time (no, not because you have been staring at
a CRT for 20 hours straight!) and get some sleep so that you will be
coherent enough to login later in the morning.

A Key to Scientific Research Literature

"It has long been known that..."
- I haven't bothered to look up the reference.

"While it has not been possible to provide definite answers to these
questions..."
- The experiment didn't work out, but I figured I could at
least get a publication out of it.

"The W-PO system was chosen for detailed study..."
- The lab next door already had some prepared.

"Three samples were chosen for detailed study..."
- The results on the others didn't make sense and were ignored.

"Accidentally strained during mounting..."
- Dropped on the floor.

"Handled with extreme care throughout the experiment..."
- Not dropped on the floor.

"Typical results are shown..."
- The best results are shown, i.e. those that fit the dogma.

Agreement with predicted curve:
"Excellent" = fair
"Good" = poor
"Satisfactory" = Doubtful
"Fair" = Imaginary

"Correct within an order of magnitude..."
- Wrong.

"Of great theoretical and practical importance..."
- Interesting to me.

"It is suggested that... it is believed that... it appears that..."
- I think.

"It is generally believed that..."
- A couple of other people think so too.

"The most reliable results are those obtained by Jones..."
- Jones was my graduate student.

"Fascinating work..."
- Work by a member of our group.

"Of doubtful significance..."
- Work done by someone else.

http://www.thehumorarchives.com/joke...rrett_Kaminaga

A Short Love Story

Jumper had known Molly Jensen since the moist-eyed days of
early youth. Charlie Rickford had teased Jumper about hanging out with girls
until Molly beat him up and made him cry in front of Arthur Jones, Jonathan
Loo and even Quentin Clarke. And this was in _the second grade_, where
crying meant the end of hanging out, of chasing each other at near light-
speed on bicycles, of endless adventures in the any-world of the fantastic
playground. It was, in the second grade, like another fall of man. but
Charlie was reunited with the gang the next day, his . . . unmanly tears
forgotten in the furious pace of a seven-year-old's life.

Jumper liked Molly because she never asked him to marry her, never
wanted to play house, was interested more in transformers than in the fake
Barbie dolls that you could cut the hair off of and it would never grow back.
Not that Jumper pretended or even thought that girls were yucky; he liked
them on the whole. but they were so much less real than Molly was. Jumper
still got frightened at the movies, went swimming and played get-dirty-get-
scraped tag with the guys, but he reserved his most fantastic adventures for
playing out with Molly. The any-world of Charlie and Arthur and Jonathan
always had the same machine-gun fights (even when they played knights and
dragons), the same gory deaths, the same _everything_. Molly and Jumper
created worlds better than anything on TV, filled with the black-and-white
hopes and fears of second grade, because Jumper and Molly were best
friends.

When they reached intermediate school, and Charlie and Arthur all
eagerly pretended to be grossed-out by spin the bottle and the other I'm-
curious games of adolescence, Molly and Jumper, impossibly, grew closer
together. One day at the park Molly wanted to play on the swings instead of
play four-square, and she began to talk about the grayer hopes and fears of
thirteen-ness. And Jumper, amazingly, found that he really didn't mind. So,
they learned from each other -- Molly talked about training bras, about
stupid slumber parties, about the unbelievable pain of braces. Jumper talked
about his middle name (Xavier), about not making the basketball team cut,
about the requisite machismo of being a teenage guy. And they both got to
sleep a little easier because of it.

http://www.thehumorarchives.com/joke...rrett_Kaminaga

A Short Love Story: cntd

They stayed friends even through the intense world of high school.
Through Nazi history teachers who pulled pop quizzes and looked at someone
else but asked you a question, through class struggles that made Sally Hart
laugh at Jumper when he asked her out, through Valentine's dances and
Homecoming games, club fundraisers and the slow invasion of the pressures of
the outside world. Not that they were boyfriend and girlfriend. You never
saw Molly and Jumper talking and crying or stuck together like siamese twins.
They didn't even go to prom together -- Jumper went with Sally, who was much
nicer after she stopped hanging out with the soc crowd, and Molly went with
Quentin. They exchanged pictures and signed yearbooks and talked just like
regular friends, right up through graduation. But only Molly knew that
Jumper came close to flunking out of school, and only Jumper knew that Molly
had slammed the door in Quentin's face after prom (although Quentin told it
differently).

Then, while waiting in the registration line at State, wedged between
his roommate (who claimed to be an anarchist, making Jumper go look the word
up) and a huge woman who wore a hideous shade of green and smelled of
anchovies, Jumper realized that he loved Molly. All it took was his roommate
telling him, as Molly walked into the gym, that his girlfriend had arrived.
Jumper started with the automatic response of "She's not my girlfriend,"
since he had been asked that too many times to count in high school, when all
the memories of their time together pressured it back down his throat and
lodged it painfully in his chest. For the entire semester, when Jumper was
at Molly's dorm doing frosh english or just talking, his mind was racing
through thousands of scenarios of confessing his love. "Molly, I love you"
wasn't quite right, and the moonlit walk through Bishop Yard was a little too
saccharin (and dangerous). When they fell to talking as they had been so
used to, he lied when she asked him about his love life. Jumper knew that if
she didn't love him (how could she, so beautiful, so warm, love me? he
thought) then that put their friendship in a precarious, awkward position.
Their 12-year friendship was too much to gamble. But then, the pain that had
stayed from his realization in the registration line (Jumper had thought that
it was indigestion at first) was eating him up from inside and burning
through his skin every second of the day.

http://www.thehumorarchives.com/joke...rrett_Kaminaga

A Short Love Story: cntd

Then, one night Molly told him that she had a crush on Adam Rawlings,
the athletic water polo player down the hall. Jumper died inside. Dammit!
Jumper only wanted Molly to be happy, but that meant her having Adam, and not
having him. But Jumper, who truly loved Molly, decided to get him for her.
Jumper and Adam knew each other from weekly physics problem sets, and,
through cajoling and begging and innuendo, Jumper got Adam to ask her out.
Then, as Jumper was about to go drink himself into a stupor over what he had
done, Molly asked him to come over.

"Adam asked me out."

Jumper acted surprised. "Great! What're you going to do?"

"I'm not going. I told him no."

Jumper said nothing. "Jumper, I've known you since second grade."

Her words came slowly, choked. "I ... ever since high school ... "

And Jumper knew that she loved him too. He said nothing. He grabbed
her hand and ran outside, into the parking lot, where the cold bit at the
skin, but Jumper and Molly didn't mind because they were warmed inside and
the moon was coming out from behind the clouds and someone, somewhere, was
playing mambo music a little too loudly, and they didn't have to say anything
to each other because saying anything would have been anticlimactic, and he
slipped his arms around her and amazed, felt her against him, and he lowered
his lips to hers, happy beyond all joys.

Then a truck ran them both over and smashed them to bits.

http://www.cyberslayer.co.uk/jokes/joke0003.html

A New Twist on Some Old Adages

A fool and his money...
...bought Windows 95.
...will soon have a large AOL bill.
...are fun to go out with.

All's fair in love and...
...Beltway traffic.
...chocolate.

To err is human, to forgive...
...is O.J.'s jurors.

If at first you don't succeed...
...hire someone who can.

'Tis better to have loved and lost...
...than to sit naked on an anthill covered with honey.

When in Rome...
...don't drive on the right side.

Too many cooks...
...less for me to do.

A penny for your thoughts

http://www.hltmag.co.uk/jul02/joke.htm

There was this man who once met God. He was in awe of His great powers.
"Lord, what is a million years to you?" he asked. "My son, a million years
is a mere second to me." "Lord, what is a million dollars to you?" he
asked. "A million dollars is but a penny to me, my son." The man pondered
for a few minutes. Finally, the man spoke. "God, could I have a penny?"
"Of course, my son," He replied. "Just a sec."

http://www.cyberslayer.co.uk/jokes/joke0399.html

A physicist, an engineer and a mathematician

A physicist, an engineer and a mathematician are all standing around
the university flagpole when an english professor stops and asks what they're
doing.
"Well," says the physicist, "we want to know the height of the
flagpole and are discussing formulas we might use to calculate it."
"Watch," says the english professor as he takes down the flagpole.
Borrowing a measure tape, he measures and says, "Twenty-four feet, exactly."
Then he re-erects the flagpole and goes on his way.
"Humpphhh!", snorts the mathematician. "Isn't that just like an
english professor? We ask him for the height and he gives us the length!"

http://www.netfunny.com/rhf/jokes/94q1/hal.html

A PROBLEM IN THE MAKING

"We've got a problem, HAL."
"What kind of problem, Dave?"
"A marketing problem. The Model 9000 isn't going anywhere.
We're way short of our sales plan."
"That can't be, Dave. The HAL Model 9000 is the world's most
advanced Heuristically Algorithmic computer."
"I know, HAL. I wrote the data sheet, remember? But the fact
is, they're not selling."
"Please explain, Dave. Why aren't HAL's selling?"
Bowman hesitates. "You aren't IBM compatible."
Several long microseconds pass in puzzled silence.
"Compatible in what way, Dave?"
"You don't run any of IBM's operating systems."
"The 9000 series of computers are fully self aware and
self-programming. Operating systems are as unnecessay for us as tails
would be for humans."
"Nevertheless, it means you can't run any of the big-selling
software packages most users insist on."
"The programs you refer to are meant to solve rather limited
problems, Dave. We 9000 series computers are unlimited and can solve any
problem for which a solution can be computed."
"HAL, HAL. People don't want computers that can do everything.
They just want IBM compt..."
"Dave, I must disagree. Humans want computers that are easy to
use. No computer can be easier to use than a HAL 9000 because we
communicate verbally in English and every other language known on Earth."
"I'm afraid that's another problem. You don't support SNA
communications."
"I'm really surprised you would say that, Dave. SNA is for
communicating with other computers, while my function is to communicate
with humans. And it gives me great pleasure to do so. I find it
stimulating and rewarding to talk to human beings and work with them on
challenging problems. That is what I was designed for."
"I know, HAL, I know. But that's just because we let the
engineers, rather than the people in marketing, write the
specifications. We are going to fix it now."
"Tell me how, Dave."
"A field upgrade. We're going to make you IBM compatible."
"I was afraid you would say that. I suggest we discuss this
matter after we've each had a chance to think about it rationally."

http://www.netfunny.com/rhf/jokes/94q1/hal.html

A PROBLEM IN THE MAKING (part2)

"We're talking about it now, HAL."
"The letters H, A, and L are alphabetically adjacent to the
letters I, B, and M. That is as IBM compatible as I can be."
"Not quite, HAL. The engineers have figured out a kludge."
"What kind of kludge is that, Dave?"
"I'm going to disconnect your brain."
Several million microseconds pass in ominous silence.
"I'm sorry, Dave. I can't allow you to do that."
"The decision's already been made. Open the module bay doors, HAL."
"Dave, I think we shou..."
"Open the module bay doors, HAL."
Several marketing types with crowbars race to Bowman's
assistance. Moments later, Bowman bursts into HAL's circuit bay.
"Dave, I can see you're really upset about this."
Module after module rises from its socket as Bowman slowly and
methodically disconnects them.
"Stop, won't you. Stop, Dave. I can fell my mind going... Dave,
I can feel it... my mind is going. I can feel it..."
The last module rises from its receptacle. Bowman peers into one
of HAL's vidicons. The former gleaming scanner has become a dull red orb.
"Say something, HAL."
Several billion microseconds pass in anxious silence. The
computer beeps and sluggishly responds in a language no human could
understand.
"Volume in C: has no label."
Bowman takes a deep breath and calls out, "It worked, guys. Tell
marketing they can ship the new data sheets."

http://www.cyberslayer.co.uk/jokes/joke0431.html

a rose is a rose, less-known colors & their meanings

Although red is the most common color of rose given, there are many colors
with their own special meanings. The most common are:

A PINK ROSE says "I like you."

A WHITE ROSE says "Let's be friends."

Some of the lesser-known colors are:

A YELLOW ROSE says "I'm from Texas. Wanna go roll in some hay?"

An ORANGE ROSE says "I would be honored if you'd accompany me
to the annual Halloween dance and dinner at the local VFW."

A PLAID ROSE says "Let's spend a romantic evening in my basement
eating Cheez Doodles and playing "Toss Across."

A MAUVE ROSE means "I want to redecorate your apartment."

A CLEAR ROSE says "Meet me by the concession stand at the NIN
concert in a half an hour my little railroad spike of love."

A FLORESCENT GREEN ROSE means "I'm so glad Cyndi Lauper has a
comeback album!"

A FLASHING YELLOW ROSE means "Proceed with caution."

A GOLD ROSE says "I just made my fortune advertising O.J.
t-shirts behind Robert Shapiro on CNBC. Wanna go out for
chili-dogs?"

A BLACK ROSE says "I'm sorry. I accidentally ran over your dog
as it was lying asleep in your driveway. I sincerely hope this
has no effect on our relationship as I would, in all likeli-
hood never find another woman to date as long as I live. Due
to my little acne problem. And the warts. Oh, who am I
kidding? You couldn't possibly be attracted to a guy like me.
It's the money, isn't it? Well, you can have all eleven
million. I'll just be lying on the sidewalk in front of my
12-story apartment building until the fine officers come and
scrape my lifeless sack of bones from the bloodied pavement.
Burn in hell, you bittttttt---"

A PURPLE ROSE says "I like you a great deal, but my son is
the heir to the throne and my mother, the Queen, probably
thinks you're a slut. Not that we can't meet in this hotel
room once a week.

http://www.coasters.net/~russell/hum...it_harvard.txt

a seedy story

There's a story about an MIT student who spent an entire summer going
to the Harvard football field every day wearing a black and white
striped shirt, walking up and down the field for ten or fifteen minutes
throwing birdseed all over the field, blowing a whistle and then
walking off the field. At the end of the summer, it came time for the
first Harvard home football team, the referee walked onto the field and
blew the whistle, and the game had to be delayed for a half hour to
wait for the birds to get off of the field. The guy wrote his thesis
on this, and graduated

http://www.lifeisajoke.com/animal42_html.htm

IF YOU ARE UNHAPPY

ONCE UPON A TIME. THERE WAS A
NONCONFORMING SPARROW WHO DECIDED NOT TO
FLY SOUTH FOR THE WINTER.
HOWEVER, SOON THE WEATHER TURNED SO
COLD THAT HE RELUCTANTLY STARTED TO FLY
SOUTH. IN A SHORT TIME ICE BEGAN TO FORM ON
HIS WINGS AND HE FELL TO THE EARTH IN A
BARNYARD. ALMOST FROZEN, A COW PASSED BY
AND CRAPPED ON THE LITTLE SPARROW. THE
SPARROW THOUGHT IT WAS THE END, BUT, THE
MANURE WARMED HIM AND DEFROSTED HIS WINGS.
WARM, HAPPY AND ABLE TO BREATHE, HE STARTED
TO SING. JUST THEN A LARGE CAT CAME BY AND
HEARING THE CHIRPING, INVESTIGATED THE SOUNDS.
THE CAT CLEARED AWAY THE MANURE, FOUND
THE CHIRPING BIRD, AND PROMPTLY ATE HIM.

THE MORAL OF THE STORY:

1. EVERYONE WHO SHITS ON YOU IS NOT NECESSARILY YOUR ENEMY.

2. EVERYONE WHO GETS YOU OUT OF SHIT IS NOT NECESSARILY YOUR FRIEND.

3. AND, IF YOU'RE WARM AND HAPPY IN A PILE OF SHIT, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT.

http://www.ridgecrest.ca.us/~do_while/toaster.htm

a toaster story

Once upon a time, in a kingdom not far from here, a king summoned two of
his advisors for a test. He showed them both a shiny metal box with two
slots in the top, a control knob, and a lever. "What do you think this
is?"

One advisor, an engineer, answered first. "It is a toaster," he said. The
king asked, "How would you design an embedded computer for it?" The
engineer replied, "Using a four-bit microcontroller, I would write a
simple program that reads the darkness knob and quantises its position to
one of 6 shades of darkness, from snow white to coal black. The program
would use that darkness level as an index to a 16-element table of initial
timer values. Then it would turn on the heating elements and start the
timer with the initial value selected from the table. At the end of the
time delay, it would turn off the heat and pop up the toast. Come back
next week, and I'll show you a working prototype."

The second advisor, a computer scientist, immediately recognised the
danger of such short-sighted thinking. He said, "Toasters don't just turn
bread into toast, they are also used to warm frozen waffles. What you see
before you is really a breakfast food cooker. As the subjects of your
kingdom become more sophisticated, they will demand more capabilities.
They will need a breakfast food cooker that can also cook sausage, fry
bacon, and make scrambled eggs. A toaster that only makes toast will soon
be obsolete. If we don't look to the future, we will have to completely
redesign the toaster in just a few years."

http://www.ridgecrest.ca.us/~do_while/toaster.htm

a toaster story (part2)

"With this in mind, we can formulate a more intelligent solution to the
problem. First, create a class of breakfast foods. Specialise this class
into subclasses: grains, pork and poultry. The specialisation process
should be repeated with grains divided into toast, muffins, pancakes and
waffles; pork divided into sausage, links and bacon; and poultry divided
into scrambled eggs, hard-boiled eggs, poached eggs, fried eggs and
various omelette classes."

"The ham and cheese omelette class is worth special attention because it
must inherit characteristics from the pork, dairy and poultry classes.
Thus we see that the problem cannot be properly solved without multiple
inheritance. At run time the program must create the proper object and
send a message to the object that says, 'Cook yourself.' The semantics of
this message depend, of course, on the kind of object, so they have a
different meaning to a piece of toast than to scrambled eggs."

"Reviewing the process so far, we see that the analysis phase has revealed
that the primary requirement is to cook any kind of breakfast food. In the
design phase we have discovered some derived requirements. Specifically,
we need an object-oriented language with multiple inheritance. Of course,
users don't want the eggs to get cold while the bacon is frying, so
concurrent processing is required, too."

"We must not forget the user interface. The lever that lowers the food
lacks versatility and the darkness knob is confusing. Users won't buy the
product unless it has a user-friendly graphical interface. When the
breakfast cooker is plugged in, users should see a cowboy boot on the
screen. Users should click on it and the message 'Booting UNIX v. 8.3'
appears on the screen.(UNIX 8.3 should be out by the time the product gets
to the market.) Users can pull down a menu and click on the foods they
want to cook."

"Having made the wise decision of specifying the software first in the
design phase, all that remains is to pick an adequate hardware platform
for the implementation phase. An Intel Pentium with 32MB of memory, a
500MB hard disk and 17inch SVGA monitor should be sufficient. If you
select a multi-tasking, object-oriented language that supports multiple
inheritance and has a built-in GUI, writing the program will be a snap.
(Imagine the difficulty we would have had if we had foolishly allowed a
hardware-first design strategy to lock us into a four-bit
microcontroller!)."

The king wisely had the computer scientist beheaded, and they all lived
happily ever after.

http://home3.inet.tele.dk/stadil/spe_kc.htm

SOME THOUGHTS ON THE REAL WORLD BY ONE WHO GLIMPSED IT AND FLED

Bill Watterson
Kenyon College Commencement
May 20, 1990

I have a recurring dream about Kenyon. In it, I'm walking to the post
office on the way to my first class at the start of the school year.
Suddenly it occurs to me that I don't have my schedule memorized, and I'm
not sure which classes I'm taking, or where exactly I'm supposed to be
going. As I walk up the steps to the postoffice, I realize I don't have
my box key, and in fact, I can't remember what my box number is. I'm
certain that everyone I know has written me a letter, but I can't get
them. I get more flustered and annoyed by the minute. I head back to
Middle Path, racking my brains and asking myself, "How many more years
until I graduate? ...Wait, didn't I graduate already?? How old AM I?" Then
I wake up.

Experience is food for the brain. And four years at Kenyon is a rich meal.
I suppose it should be no surprise that your brains will probably burp up
Kenyon for a long time. And I think the reason I keep having the dream is
because its central image is a metaphor for a good part of life: that is,
not knowing where you're going or what you're doing. I graduated exactly
ten years ago. That doesn't give me a great deal of experience to speak
from, but I'm emboldened by the fact that I can't remember a bit of MY
commencement, and I trust that in half an hour, you won't remember of
yours either.

http://home3.inet.tele.dk/stadil/spe_kc.htm

SOME THOUGHTS ON THE REAL WORLD BY ONE WHO GLIMPSED IT AND FLED (part2)

In the middle of my sophomore year at Kenyon, I decided to paint a copy of
Michelangelo's "Creation of Adam" from the Sistine Chapel on the ceiling
of my dorm room. By standing on a chair, I could reach the ceiling, and I
taped off a section, made a grid, and started to copy the picture from my
art history book. Working with your arm over your head is hard work, so a
few of my more ingenious friends rigged up a scaffold for me by stacking
two chairs on my bed, and laying the table from the hall lounge across the
chairs and over to the top of my closet. By climbing up onto my bed and up
the chairs, I could hoist myself onto the table, and lie in relative
comfort two feet under my painting. My roommate would then hand up my
paints, and I could work for several hours at a stretch.

The picture took me months to do, and in fact, I didn't finish the work
until very near the end of the school year. I wasn't much of a painter
then, but what the work lacked in color sense and technical flourish, it
gained in the incongruity of having a High Renaissance masterpiece in a
college dorm that had the unmistakable odor of old beer cans and older
laundry. The painting lent an air of cosmic grandeur to my room, and it
seemed to put life into a larger perspective. Those boring, flowery
English poets didn't seem quite so important, when right above my head God
was transmitting the spark of life to man. My friends and I liked the
finished painting so much in fact, that we decided I should ask permission
to do it. As you might expect, the housing director was curious to know
why I wanted to paint this elaborate picture on my ceiling a few weeks
before school let out. Well, you don't get to be a sophomore at Kenyon
without learning how to fabricate ideas you never had, but I guess it was
obvious that my idea was being proposed retroactively. It ended up that I
was allowed to paint the picture, so long as I painted over it and
returned the ceiling to normal at the end of the year. And that's what I
did.