Ode to Keith

[Richard Bos]

It has, whatever a Stichwortverzeichnis is.

No, it hasn't, because a Stichwordverzeichnis is a keyword index, and
the ISO C Standard never mentions Bloops by name, let alone as a keyword
in its index. Of course, anybody who wants to take himself seriously as
a programmer should know what the three talking ducks are, even so.

As we say in Italy, "è il bue che dice cornuto all'asino".
(Literally "it is the ox who calls the donkey horny").

Not horny, surely, but "having had the horns put on his head"? That
image exists in English, as well.

Richard

 

[Clever Monkey]

The last line has six syllables

The form, while important in that it constrains one sort of expression
in order to promote another, is only part of the story. My
understanding is that the last line is supposed to make a little "jump"
(in a Taoist or Zen flavour) apart from the first two.

Not that I think this example illustrates this. Just saying, is all.

There's also that pesky problem with relating English and Japanese
grammatical forms. It may be easier to make clever puns (written and
visual) and ironic turns of phrase in Haiku with combinations of
Japanese syllables.

 

[user923005]

The form, while important in that it constrains one sort of expression
in order to promote another, is only part of the story. My
understanding is that the last line is supposed to make a little "jump"
(in a Taoist or Zen flavour) apart from the first two.

Not that I think this example illustrates this. Just saying, is all.

There's also that pesky problem with relating English and Japanese
grammatical forms. It may be easier to make clever puns (written and
visual) and ironic turns of phrase in Haiku with combinations of
Japanese syllables.

<stupendously OT>
A real haiku is also supposed to have some sort of seasonal reference
or hint (potentially symbolic) in it as well.

e.g.:

Like the falling leaves
A whinging twit wafts earthward
Landing with a *plonk*

;-)
</stupendously OT>

 

[santosh]

Ode to Keith

Push, pop, and pope.

<snip>

You remind me of the infamous "werty."

 

[Army1987]

No, it hasn't, because a Stichwordverzeichnis is a keyword index

So it hasn't them in it. I kinda guessed it was a nonsense word or
something irrelevant.

Of course, anybody who wants to take himself seriously as
a programmer should know what the three talking ducks are, even so.

"BlooP, FlooP, and GlooP are not *trolls*, talking ducks, or the
sounds made by a sinking ship" (emphasis added). LOL.

(In Italian that was translated as "CicloL, CicloI and CicloH
aren't cyclopes, brands of washing powders, or sounds made by a
steam train", "ciclo" being the Italian word for loop.)

Not horny, surely, but "having had the horns put on his head"? That
image exists in English, as well.

Usually in Italian "cornuto" means "being cheated on by one's
spouse", but in that sentence it has its literal meaning, "with
horns". Once I found a similar English phrase such as "[something]
telling [something else] it is black", but I can't remember what
the [something]s were.

 

[Philip Potter]

Usually in Italian "cornuto" means "being cheated on by one's
spouse", but in that sentence it has its literal meaning, "with
horns". Once I found a similar English phrase such as "[something]
telling [something else] it is black", but I can't remember what
the [something]s were.

The pot, and the kettle.

I had a friend who revelled in making complicated versions of popular sayings,
and he came up with "The Bose-Einstein condensate calling the
Yttrium-Barium-Copper Oxide cold".

 

[Wade Ward]

"Wade Ward" <[email protected]> wrote:

Report 1 from ABQ
by Merrill Jensen

I'm gonna try to write a five-paragraph essay in standard form. Before the
end of the first paragraph is the thesis statement, which is that I'm going
to discuss Ron's estate money. One thing that occurred to me today is that
the act of bringing this house to livable, ergo sellable, condition might be
enough to get my business endeavors floated. If I've got a means to support
myself so as to take over the payment, I'll probably not leave this house
that I simply love. In my imagination, I conflated being able to prove to
the world that I'm worthy of being hired with the sale of the house. I've
done *extraordinary* work as remodeler. I think it's ironic that I can't
use either of the bitches I was with at the time, so my best work in
Minnesota and Michigan goes unheralded. I never thanked you mom for fixing
me up with that girl who wouldn't give a thousand bucks to incorporate, but
had to give me tens of thousands of my sweat equity in the divorce court.
What a pleasant ride that was.

Ron's estate exists in forms like a two by four. Real and nominal. The
difference is technical. Michele will recollect how Johnny love showed his
business and economic sense. Don and Dana sounded good. He was butting
heads with mindy's everybody was young fool fighting. Mom, I'm getting a
tattoo. I'd say don't tell Bishop Jensen, but your husband knows that I'm
into:
1) building
2) solar
3) KUNG FOO (six inches above my right hand, so anyone I shake hands with
can see it. jenny's dirty work. Thanks for not allowing me to have that
Steve Martin record. Thanks for telling me "don't marry for money" when
what that really means is "only marry a Mormon."
4) C and Fortran
5) Richard: du bist ein Tor and a bore, und warst es auch immer. Typ.
contact with Piccalilly, bitch. I tried to surf on San Juan. Photo coming
from Susan. Push.

Ron had been feeling ill for a few days with symptoms that are consistent
with drop-dead-instantly-of-a-heart-attack syndrome. Blood atonement. A
worse scenario has him in the living room where he didn't have to listen to
see Republicans are now passing the bucks to the dems, instead of not having
given the means to make Iraq a success to frauds. There is always a deeper
chamber to hell, I used to think. Worst scenario has Ron listening to the
news that every con artist who is gun-comfortable wins the Repug lotto to
the tune of 3 million dollars. If there's five there's fifteen Bush. One
and four is 5, so we have 3.14, in other words, pie. Tja.

Mindy, if you send me a hunerd bucks, I'll give you one-eighth of a pi
piece. I wish that my business partner, mudder, apprise you fully as to the
consequences of sending me dos hundred. Pop.

I'm not really a choir boy, except of course that soundkung fu cat. Choi's
this Thursday. Thanks for the music. I have my "Geraldine issues," but one
of them was not what she said to me when I quit piano. Seven eighths has
nothing to do with the distinction between real or nominal value of Ron's
estate. The mathematics is not easy, in particular as it has the flavor of
applied econ. Applied econ is fascinating.
--
MPJ

My form of poetry is a Aristotealean form as a five-voice fugue. This poem
is dedicated to my uncle Ron, who has left us so much. Requiescat in pace.

And Richard, if you insult my poetry again, I'll come alive on you instead
in Dutch. Highly discouraged.

 

[Wade Ward]

Where's your supercomputer, troll?

What are its capabilities?

If you don't tell me, you'll go home to find Elliot eating out of your
fridge. He's different than I am. I kill a person first in my mind, and
usually pardon.

Elliot's risk-averse.

 

[Peter 'Shaggy' Haywood]

Groovy hepcat Wade Ward was jivin' in comp.lang.c on Tue, 18 Sep 2007
8:04 pm. It's a cool scene! Dig it.

Ode to Keith

[Snip.]

Ladies (if there are any here) and gentlemen, before I plonk the
thread once and for all, I'd just like to remind you all not to feed
the trolls. If they get used to getting a free meal, our beloved
newsgroup will become infested with the beasts, and we'll never get rid
of them.
I know some of you are having fun playing with them, but please
remember that trolls are wild bores. They can be dangerous, and are
best left alone.
Thankyou and goodnight!

 

[Malcolm McLean]

Where's your supercomputer, troll?

What are its capabilities?

If you don't tell me, you'll go home to find Elliot eating out of your
fridge. He's different than I am. I kill a person first in my mind, and
usually pardon.

Elliot's risk-averse.

Your posts are getting steadily more bizarre.

I very rarely plonk people, but really. This is a technical discussion
group. Please keep topical and civil.

 

[Patrick Karl]

Report 1 from ABQ
by Merrill Jensen

I'm gonna try to write a five-paragraph essay in standard form. Before the
end of the first paragraph is the thesis statement, which is that I'm going
to discuss Ron's estate money. One thing that occurred to me today is that
the act of bringing this house to livable, ergo sellable, condition might be
enough to get my business endeavors floated. If I've got a means to support
myself so as to take over the payment, I'll probably not leave this house
that I simply love. In my imagination, I conflated being able to prove to
the world that I'm worthy of being hired with the sale of the house. I've
done *extraordinary* work as remodeler. I think it's ironic that I can't
use either of the bitches I was with at the time, so my best work in
Minnesota and Michigan goes unheralded. I never thanked you mom for fixing
me up with that girl who wouldn't give a thousand bucks to incorporate, but
had to give me tens of thousands of my sweat equity in the divorce court.
What a pleasant ride that was.

Ron's estate exists in forms like a two by four. Real and nominal. The
difference is technical. Michele will recollect how Johnny love showed his
business and economic sense. Don and Dana sounded good. He was butting
heads with mindy's everybody was young fool fighting. Mom, I'm getting a
tattoo. I'd say don't tell Bishop Jensen, but your husband knows that I'm
into:
1) building
2) solar
3) KUNG FOO (six inches above my right hand, so anyone I shake hands with
can see it. jenny's dirty work. Thanks for not allowing me to have that
Steve Martin record. Thanks for telling me "don't marry for money" when
what that really means is "only marry a Mormon."
4) C and Fortran
5) Richard: du bist ein Tor and a bore, und warst es auch immer. Typ.
contact with Piccalilly, bitch. I tried to surf on San Juan. Photo coming
from Susan. Push.

Ron had been feeling ill for a few days with symptoms that are consistent
with drop-dead-instantly-of-a-heart-attack syndrome. Blood atonement. A
worse scenario has him in the living room where he didn't have to listen to
see Republicans are now passing the bucks to the dems, instead of not having
given the means to make Iraq a success to frauds. There is always a deeper
chamber to hell, I used to think. Worst scenario has Ron listening to the
news that every con artist who is gun-comfortable wins the Repug lotto to
the tune of 3 million dollars. If there's five there's fifteen Bush. One
and four is 5, so we have 3.14, in other words, pie. Tja.

Mindy, if you send me a hunerd bucks, I'll give you one-eighth of a pi
piece. I wish that my business partner, mudder, apprise you fully as to the
consequences of sending me dos hundred. Pop.

I'm not really a choir boy, except of course that soundkung fu cat. Choi's
this Thursday. Thanks for the music. I have my "Geraldine issues," but one
of them was not what she said to me when I quit piano. Seven eighths has
nothing to do with the distinction between real or nominal value of Ron's
estate. The mathematics is not easy, in particular as it has the flavor of
applied econ. Applied econ is fascinating.
--
MPJ

My form of poetry is a Aristotealean form as a five-voice fugue. This poem
is dedicated to my uncle Ron, who has left us so much. Requiescat in pace.

And Richard, if you insult my poetry again, I'll come alive on you instead
in Dutch. Highly discouraged.

Is this some of that sporge I've been hearing about?