From william@syacus.acus.oz.au Ukn Jan 20 12:05:33 1993 Received: from munnari.OZ.AU by css.itd.umich.edu (5.67/2.2) id AA05508; Wed, 20 Jan 93 12:05:27 -0500 Received: from syacus.acus.oz (via mulga) by munnari.oz.au with SunIII (5.83--+1.3.1+0.50) id AA20789; Thu, 21 Jan 1993 04:05:16 +1100 (from william@syacus.acus.oz.au) From: william@syacus.acus.oz.au Message-Id: <9301201705.20789@munnari.oz.au> Subject: for a a.s.a FAQ ... To: pauls@css.itd.umich.edu@munnari.OZ.AU (Paul Southworth) Date: Thu, 21 Jan 93 1:09:29 EST Cc: shedevil@leyland.stanford.edu@munnari.OZ.AU (thanks) Reply-To: william@syacus.oz.au In-Reply-To: <1cf6u3INNim3@terminator.rs.itd.umich.edu>; from "Paul Southworth" at Oct 25, 92 10:26 pm Status: RO X-Status: Hi ya Paul, I dunno where this fits with your scheme of stuff ... and, here it is. : To my knowledge there is no FAQ for this newsgroup. I think that creating : one (let alone actually having one) would be an interesting process and : would inspire some good debate and reflection. In the past few weeks I've been fortunate enough to have been presented the Chomsky documentry and another documentary on Billy Connolly :-) Everyone(?) knows `of' Chomsky's work. Billy Connolly is, imho, better "grounded" as I just said :-) I grew up in a steel town, myself ... fortunately, I was 'surburban' so I was not-city and not-country (which, I realise is not what a suburb might be now). [ And I digress ]. A way, a case, an option. I feel that perhaps the comics and poets of this existence are where to begin (c.f. Bateson). Nevertheless; what I might say intellectually will be long winded, drawn-out, and "sound like I come from Neptune" [Chomsky]. "True comics" and poets have the capability to express thought at a highter bandwidth. It is rare, in my experience, that prose is ample to such a challenging task. I submit that the lenght of this preamble is witness to the hypothesis I am positing. :-) Real question -- did you catch the oration from the commedians ? Importantly; as follows ... The Growth of Sym ================== Now, Sym was a Glug; and 'tis mentioned so That the tale reads perfectly plain as we go. In his veins ran blood of that stupid race Of docile folk, who inhabit the place Called Gosh, sad Gosh, where the tall trees sigh With a strange, significant sort of cry When the gloaming creeps and the wind is high. When Sym was born there was much to-do, And his parents thought him a joy to view; But folk not prejudiced saw the Glug, As his nurse remarked, "In the cut of his mug". For he had their hair, and he had their eyes, And the Glug expression of pained suprised, And their predilection for pumpkin pies. And his parents' claims were a deal denied By his maiden aunt on his mother's side. A tall Glug lady of fifty-two With a slight moustache of auburn hue. "Parental blither !" she said quite flat. "He's an average Glug; and he's red and fat ! And exceedingly fat and red at that !" But the father, Joi, when he gazed on Sym, Dreamed great and wonderful things for him. Said he, "If the mind of a Glug could wake ! Then, Oh, what a wonderful Glug he'd make ! We shall teach this laddie to play life's game With a different mind and definite aim: A Glug in appearance, yet not the same." But the practical aunt said, "Fudge ! You fool ! We'll pack up his dinner and send him to school. He shall learn about two-times and parsing and capes, And how to make money with inches on tapes. We'll apprentice him then to the drapery trade, Where, I've heard it reported, large profits are made; Besides, he can sell us cheap buttons and braid." So poor young Sym, he was sent to school, Where the first thing taught is the Golden Rule. "Do unto others", the teacher said ... Then suddenly stopped and scratched his head. "You may look up the rest in a book", said he. "At present it doesn't occur to me; But do it, whatever it happens to be." And now", said the teacher, "the day's task brings Consideration of practical things. If a man makes a profit of fifteen pounds On one week's takings from two milk rounds, How many ... ?" And Sym went dreaming away To the sunlit lands where the field-mice play, And wrens hold revel the livelong day. He walked in the welcoming fields alone, While far, far away came the pedagogue's drone: "If a man makes ... Multiply ... Abstract nouns ... From B take ... Population of towns ... Rods, poles or perches ... Derived from Greek ... " Oh, hawthorn buds came out this week, And robins are nesting down by the creek. So Sym was head of his class not once; And his aunt repeatedly dubbed him "Dunce !" But, "Give him a chance," said his father, Joi, "His head is abnormally large for a boy." But his aunt said, "Piffle ! It's crammed with bosh ! Why, he don't know the rivers and the mountains of Gosh Nor the names of the nephews of good King Splosh !" So th argument ran; but one bright Spring day Sym settled it all in his own way. "'Tis a tramp," he announced, "I've decided to be; And I start next Monday at twenty to three ... " When the aunt recovered she screamed, "A tramp ? A low-lived, pilfering, idle scamp, Who steals people's washing, and sleeps in the damp ?" So Sym went off, and a year ran by, And the father said, with a smile-masked sigh, "It is meet that the young should leave the nest." Said the aunt, "Don't spill that soup on your vest ! Nor mention his name ! He's our one discrace ! And he's probably sneaking around some place With fuzzy black whiskers all over his face." But, under a hedge, by a flowering peach, A youth with a little blue wren held speech. With his back to a tree and his feet in the grass, He watched the thistledown drift and pass, And the cloud-puffs, borne on a lazy breeze, Move by on their errand, above the trees, Into the vault of mysteries. "Now teach me, little blue wren," said he. "'Tis you can unravel this riddle for me. I am 'mazed by the gifts of this kindly earth -- Which of them all has the greatest worth ? He flirted his tail as he answered, then, He bobbed and he bowed to his coy little hen: "Why, sunlight and worms !" said the little blue wren. -- C.J. (Den) Dennis Billy Connolly said that he was sort-of dissillusioned (and I can understand this), [severly misquoted] "this [anarchy/socialism] is supposed to be for the people; if the people don't want it ... well, then who am I to force it on 'em. I still believe in it. But if it's for them and they don't want it ...". Ther is the Thomas Aquinnis method, the patriachial approach; "for their own good". Example, burn them here to preserve their souls for heaven. To me -- that assults the basic tennents of what I describe annarchism as. Paul, write/post and tell us how the FAQ is going(?). OK. Wonder %% Large skinks in the garden, Will. __ "Shoot straight you bastards and don't make a mess of it." The Breaker. __ _--_|\ William Mason ACSnet: william@syacus.acus.OZ / ACUS \ Aust Ctr UNISYS S/w Internet: william@syacus.acus.OZ.AU \_.--._/ Sydney, N.S.W, Voice: +61-2-390-1322 v Australia. 2113 FAX: +61-2-390-1391 __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __[ Today's a better day, enjoy. ]__ __ __ __ __ __ __ __