Capital of Nasty Electronic Magazine
Volume I, Issue XX, Year AD MCMXCVI
Monday, November 4th, 1996
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1.      "Do you think you're smart?"
2.      One in a million...
3.      The flower of Sheba
4.      Macarena Translated

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1.      Readers' letters:

A.      - "Do you think you're smart?"

Date sent:        Mon, 28 Oct 1996 02:18:18 -0500 (EST)
From:             Alessia <alexis.roettinger@yale.edu>
To:               Leandro Asnaghi-Nicastro <leandro@ifront.com>
Copies to:        CoN Members <leandro@ifront.com>
Subject:          Re: Capital of Nasty, Volume I, Issue XIX, Year AD MCMXCVI

===
Text with no > is from Alessia (alexis.roettinger@yale.edu)
Text with one > is from Jason MacIsaac (jason@ifront.com)
Text with two >> is from Alessia (alexis.roettinger@yale.edu)
Text with three >>> is from Jason MacIsaac (jason@ifront.com)
and so forth...
===

> >What the hell is this?
> 
> God does not exist?  Does hell exist?

Pardon me.  "What the horrible place is this?"

> >Do you think you're funny?  
> 
> Yes.
> 
> >You're not.  
> 
> I am.

If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, then humor must be in the ear of 
the listener.  Which means *I* (we) am (are) the judge(s), and you are 
not funny.

> >Do you think you're smart?  
> 
> Yes.
> 
> >You may be, but no one appreciates this stuff.
> 
> Leandro liked it enough to publish it in his magazine.

That doesn't mean he liked it.  He may have included it b/c he thought it 
was ridiculous and wanted everyone else to see how pathetic you are.

> >  Yes, I CAN take a joke, but this is pathetic.  Do you know
> >what rhetorical means?  
> 
> In fact I do.  You apparently do not.  I will avoid using the entymology of
> the word since that would squeeze some information in your benumbed brain
> which is already being used for such vital operation such as dressing and
> feeding yourself.  But, a rhetorical question is a question that has no
> answer.  The point of asking a rhetorical question is not to exchange
> information, but to engage in communication for its own sake.  You do not
> need to share ideas, only speak well.  

And I don't speak well?  I might have to disagree with that one.  You 
said it yourself, a rhetorical question has no answer.  That means, don't 
answer it.

> >(and please don't respond with the entymology of the word.)  And I have
> >a few more specific comments in the relevant places.  
> Oh, I can't wait to hear this.  My efforts are total waste of time, or so
> I'm told, and yet it's perfectly acceptable use of time to respond to them.
> Okay wise ass.  Shoot.
> > 
> >> states in question must be both geographical in nature?  2)  The
> >> literal definition means "within state," so it is perfectly
> >> acceptable to use in this fashion.  "Telestate highway," now that
> >> would make no sense.
> >
> >You are plain wrong.  Inter- means between.  International,
> >interwoven, etc etc.  Intra- means within.  Intramural,
> >intraperitoneal, etc etc.  Tele- means distant.  Telescope, telegraph,
> >etc etc.
> 
> Thank you.  I stand corrected.  
> 
Thank you for accepting it.

> 
> >>         A parachute would be utterly useless.  If a plane is damaged
> >> and cannot remain in the air, bailing out with a parachute would
> >> certainly be fatal.  The chute would like be caught on the wings of
> >> the plane, hopelessly tangles in cross-currents, or even sucked into
> >> the jets.  It also takes considerable training to use a parachute,
> >> whereas a flotation device is much simpler and more familiar to
> >> civilian life.
> >
> >Well who says the crash will occur over water, the only place a
> >flotation device would do any good?
> In either event, a parachute would be useless.  That was the point.  A
> person's only hope for survival in a crashing plane is the skill of the
> pilot and the design of the plane.  If the crash occurs on land, the odds
> are that medical assistance can be brought to the plane instantly.  If the
> crash occurs in water, there is a new immediate threat to the lives of the
> passengers.

A flotation device is more useless than a parachute if you are over 
land.  Sure, the chute may not work, but a seat cushion WILL not work.  
And who says the odds are medical assistance can arrive immediately?  
Heard of islands?  Remote ones?  But yes, you are right, the pilot's 
skill is a crucial factor in crash aversion (and there have been some 
scary studies showing how a crew will follow the captain's advice, even 
when it's clearly long.  Interesting stuff, but not related to this.)  
And yes, you are right, landing in water is a problem.  Which is, after 
all, why planes have flotation devices and not parachutes. ;)

> >> The light projected by the headlights is travelling the speed
> >> of light.  They would not outrace the car.  However, depending on
> >> which theory of relativity you support, you may or may not believe
> >> that travelling the speed of light alters the mass of the vehicle,
> >> reducing it to zero.  Therefore, turning the headlights on would
> >> instantly reduce the vehicle's speed to exactly O kph.  Unless
> >> safety equipment kept the user inertia-less, they would be killed
> >> instantly.
> 
> >That's a stupid answer.  If your mass had already been reduced to
> >zero, there would be no headlights to turn on.  And what is "they"
> >(... would not outrace the car).  And assuming you could turn your
> >lights on when massless, why would they stop the car?  Light has no
> >mass either, so inertia is irrelevant.
> 
> "They" is the headlights.  Pay attention.  Also pay attention to the words
> DEPENDING ON WHICH THEORY OF RELATIVITY YOU SUPPORT.  Light does have
> physical properties, possibly even mass.  As nothing but light is currently
> able to travel the speed of light, we do not know what would happen to a
> craft that travels this speed.  It is possible that it would inherit a whole
> new area of physics.  

Oh please, pay attention my ass.  "They" is the headlights.  Do you not 
mean "they" is the light projected from the headlights?  I would 
certainly hope the bulbs themselves don't separate from the car and race 
away.  True, we don't know what happens at the speed of light.  And true, 
light has physical properties.  Mass, I don't know.  Physics is not my 
thing.  (as my lovely work on simple harmonic motion this evening, where 
i had energy NOT conserved, will attest.)

> >> Words are not actually the things they represent.  You cannot,
> >> for example, drink the word "water." 
> 
> >Ohhh!  That must explain why I'm so thirsty.  duh
> 
> Do they not teach Sociology at Yale?  No, let me guess.  You're into
> psychology.  I'd bet money on it.

And you'd be wrong.  Biology.

> >> I could quote Orwell quoting someone else here, but I believe
> >> I will wait until he can do it in person.
> 
> >And that will be never.  (that was the best you could come up with for
> >that long thing?  tsk tsk.)
> 
> Oh, you know Orwell's dead, do you.  You CAN take a joke.

You know it.  (yes, i saw your sarcasm.)

> >And on a closing note, I apologize.  I didn't mean to get so petty and
> >harpy, but your message makes me... ill?  Question my faith in the
> >human race?  
> 
>         Perhaps this whole message didn't clarify the situation.  That set
> of rhetorical questions was sent to me as part of a chain letter.  It had
> the usual crap in it--send five copies to five friends, you will receive
> luck blah blah blah.  I wrote the responses to its ideas as a rebuttal to
> the idiotic myticism in the letter. Nothing kills mysticism faster than a
> lack of imagination, which was a tool I used for humorous effect (well, not
> according to you). However, since you take exception to things I wrote, I
> can only assume that you give your full support to chain letters.  I
> therefore encourage all readers to send their chain letters to: 

Yes, I understood what you were doing with your response.  But I have a 
much simpler response.  Nothing kills a chain letter faster than the 
delete key.

> 
> alexroet@minerva.cis.yale.edu Yale
> 
fun-ny

> PS:  Why didn't you get involved in the abortion argument?  I just have to
> hear your opinions on abortion.  I'll bet you've got the solutions that
> everyone's been waiting for.  Since you're unable to detect it, let me tell
> you that last part was sarcasm.

Oh!  That was sarcastic?  After the tone of everything you wrote so far, 
I figured you really were complimenting me.
And as far as abortion goes, ask leo.  I sent him my response.  I think it 
was too long, or maybe he didn't want the argument to spiral out of 
control.  But if you want good arguments, much to your surprise, you HAVE 
come to the right place.  I have a two page document on it that says it 
all.  I'll type it out if you want.

> SPACE FOR RANT          by Douglas White
> 
>         I wish fat socialist lesbians who hate men would
> fuck off and keep their big fat mouths shut and mind their
> own business.

That's somewhat reasonable.

> an FSL (Fat Socialist Lesbian) came over to where I was working.

that's stupid to assume they're all lesbians.
(yes, I realize this was called space for RANT.)

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Alex Roettinger 				    alexroet@pantheon.yale.edu
Yale University                         http://pantheon.cis.yale.edu/~alexroet
\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/


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2.      One in a million... (part 1)

        by Betty Kwan (b3wkan@acs.ryerson.ca)

You'll never guess what happened on Sunday.

It was 6:50 pm.  We were all inside (where else would we be?) minding our
business when all of a sudden we heard a loud crash and the whole house
shook.  I initially thought that someone dropped a chair in the kitchen or
something equally heavy and did some major damage.  Only the damage was
worse than that.  It turns out that a car crashed into my house.  A van to
be exact.  Since none of us saw the incicdent occur, we had to rely on our
neighbours to get the story.

The van went through the intersection and continued up our street at
break-neck speed and then turned as if it was heading into a laneway.  Of
course there was no laneway.  It went up on the sidewalk, onto our
neighbour's lawn, across onto our lawn, and then right in the stairs.  It
knocked one of the railings completely off (it's lying quite contentedly on
the ground right now) and the other one is still attached but it looks as if
it's ready to join its partner any moment now.  Never mind the structural
damage that I'm sure the stairs has suffered.

In case you've forgotten or don't know, the front stairs and landing of our
house is made entirely of concrete.  The railings are steel and are imbedded
in the concrete stairs.  How much force is required to crack concrete, and
at what velocity must the van be travelling to attain that force, taking
into account the resistance of the sidewalk, grass and walkway?  (A question
worthy of Hayward's class)

This, of course, is the part that really gets me:  we don't exactly live
beside the intersection, so how come he didn't slow down in time?  We also
have a driveway in front of our house, unlike our neighbours to the south,
which means our house is sitting well back from the street (not exactly a
ready target).  There is also a concrete hydro pole in front of our house
(right at the corner of our walkway).  How, in spite of all these obstacles,
did that @#$!! drunk manage to hit our house?!

Of course he was drunk.  He got out of the car and he could hardly stand.
But he manged to back the car off the lawn (ramming into the hydro pole a
couple of times) and drive home, as if nothing had happened.  He only lives
just up the street.  The police are charging him with failing to remain at
the scene of an accident.

I used to think that our house was built like a fortress (concrete stairs,
steel railing, strategically placed concrete hydro pole).  Now I don't think
that way anymore.  6:50 pm isn't a late hour by anyone's book and there is a
good chance that someone could have been walking up those stairs on the way
home.  I'm sure this was a one in a million chance but after it's happened
once, you can't think that objectively anymore.


One in a million (Part 2)


Ben and my dad followed the car up the street and found it parked (as 
inconspicuously as possible) in front of his house.  He lives somewhere 
in the middle of our block.  They were looking at the car when the 
driver's son came out to talk to them.  Then the driver's wife came out, 
yelling and screaming as if the whole thing was their fault.  She told 
them to leave her family alone because our house was still standing and 
"nothing happened".  When her son told her to calm down, she hit him.  
Last I heard, you can't exactly ignore a hit and run.

The driver came by our house yesterday.  Only my dad was home.  I wish 
I was there.  I would have had a few choice words to say.  He offered to 
fix our stairs on the assumption we would forget everything that happened,
of course.

What does he want us to do?  Drop charges?  We didn't call the cops.  The 
neighbour took care of that before we even knew what hit us (literally). 
Besides, he isn't really being charged with anything.  Failing to remain at 
the scene of an accident isn't exactly a serious offence.  He got off 
scott free.  The cop said he didn't drink enough to be seriously impared 
(I beg to differ).  So how did his van end up hugging the stairs?  He 
claims the child sitting next to him (there was a child in the passenger's
seat) yanked the steering wheel.  Then if it wasn't his fault, why did 
he run away?  Because he doesn't speak English and he had to drive home 
so he could call his brother to translate.  I'm pretty sure he could have 
walked there.

Could it be that he doesn't want us reporting it to the insurance company?
After that crash, he's worried about his insurance?!  He was the lucky 
one.  If he had hit the hydro pole, he or that child would certainly be 
dead.  I won't even consider what might happen if the pole fell down.

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3.      The flower of Sheba

Long ago, in Bible times, a great king ruled in Israel.
People said King Solomon was the wisest man in the
world.  He knew the secrets of the moon and the stars.
He knew the secrets in people's hearts.  And he
knew how to speak with the animals.

Now at this time, far away in Africa, lived the mighty Queen
of Sheba.  She, too, had great wisdom, but wanted to grow
wiser still.
"Is it true?" she wondered.
"Is King Solomon really the wisest man in the world?
I would go to the ends of the earth to share his wisdom."

The queen set out on her long journey at the head of a splendid
caravan.
Her servants carried rich gifts of spices, jewels, and gold.
Drums rolled and trumpets rang out as King Solomon bid a royal
welcome to the Queen of Sheba.
He led her along a path of gold and silver to a great feast in
her honor.

That night they walked in the garden of Solomon's golden palace.
"Tell me," he asked.
"why have you come so far?"
"I want to learn from the wisest man in the world.
Are you that man?" asked Sheba.
"See for yourself," Solomon said.
"Test me."

"Then tell me," said the Queen.
"What runs day and night but never gets tired?"
"A river," answered Solomon.
Sheba nodded and asked another riddle.
"I have a basket of diamonds.  Every evening I scatter them.
And every morning I gather them up.
What am I?"
"You are the sky, and the diamonds are your stars," Solomon answered.

"Have I passed your tests?"
"So far," Sheba said.
"But I have one more."

Her last test took a long time to prepare.
The Queen of Sheba had a hundred artists make a thousand flowers
out of paper, silk and glass.

She filled the flowers with sweet smells and planted them in a
palace room.  Then without telling anyone, the
Queen of Sheba hid one real flower in the room.
"My garden holds a secret," she told the king.
"Can you find the one real flower hidden among all the rest?"
"Of course," said King Solomon.
He looked and looked.
He sniffed and sniffed.
Each flower was lovelier than the last - but only one was real.
And even the great King Solomon could not pick it from the rest.
His nose grew weary,
his eyes grew bleary,
and still he had to search.

At last he stopped and mopped his brow.
"I am warm from such hard work," said Solomon.
He threw open a window to let a cool breeze blow in.
And he smiled to himself as a little bee buzzed in.

King Solomon bowed to welcome the tiny creature.
The queen was puzzled as she watched Solomon whisper something
to the bee.
Then the little bee buzzed from flower to flower.
It did not rest until it found a small, pale, rose in a faraway
corner of the room.

King Solomon watched carefully.
The little bee settled on the rose and sipped its nectar.
"Thank you, bee," said Solomon, and let it sip its fill.

The king plucked the rose and gave it to the queen.
Sheba thanked him with a bow.
"It is true that God put great wisdom in your heart," she said.
"For when a mighty king learns even from a tiny bee,
he is wise indeed."

Drums rolled and trumpets sang out when the time for the queen
to return to the land of Sheba.
King Solomon gave her parting gifts and wrote great poems
in her honor.

But the Queen of Sheba prized one small, pale, rose above all
these other riches.
She planted its seeds in her garden.

And forever after, its sweet smell and golden nectar spoke of the
secrets she had learned:  that to the wise, even small, and
apparently insignificant creatures can be great teachers.

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4.      Macarena Translated


Bale a tu cuerpo alegria Macarena
Que tu cuerpo es pa' darle alegria y cosa buena 
Bale a tu cuerpo alegria Macarena
Ehhh, Macarena!

       Dance to shitty music stupid Americans!
       You are so stupid that you think this shitty music is good 
       Dance to shitty music stupid Americans
       Heeyyy, stupid Americans!

Macarena tiene un novio que se llama 
Que se llama de apellido Vitorino
Y en la jura de bandera del muchacho 
Se la dio con dos amigos

       Stupid americans will have sex with a llama 
       Why is the llama named Vitronio?
       While you're busy your girl will go at it with our friends 
       and we'll be friends with them (doesn't translate well)

Que le gusta la movida guerrilera 
Macarena suean con el Corte Ingles
Y se compra los mnodelos mas modernos 
Le gustaria vivr on Nueva York

       With much force you bugger gorillas
       Stupid Americans buy their clothes at K-Mart 
       And they compare their asses with their faces 
       We think New York Sucks

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