HDTenEightyP/NetNews huggingface dataset:
From: mcanally@kurims.kyoto-u.ac.jp (David Scott McAnally)
Subject: Re: PLANK
Reply-To: dsm@axiom.maths.uq.oz.au
Organization: Research Institute for Mathematical Sciences, Kyoto, Japan.
	<1992Aug25.152330.11049@praxis.co.uk>
	<1992Aug26.112839.89886@vaxc.cc.monash.edu.au> <25203@castle.ed.ac.uk>
Date: Fri, 28 Aug 1992 05:06:41 GMT

In article <25203@castle.ed.ac.uk> asr@castle.ed.ac.uk (Angus "Fluffy" Rae) writes:
 >Nope, it wasn't. As has already been pointed out, there are two
 >versions. The one which I have on video (recorded at some unearthly hour
 >in the morning off Scottish) starts Eric Sykes and Tommy Cooper, and
 >says so in the titles. Also featured at various times are Roy Castle,
 >Bill Oddie, Ian Edwards and god knows how many other British comedy

I recently bought this other copy of the Plank.  The date given on the
box is 1967.  The two workmen were  Eric Sykes and Tommy Cooper.
Bill Oddie had the role of the unfortunate window cleaner.

As Bill Oddie did not enter show business until the 1960's,
the Plank could not have been made before about 1965, do I guess that
1967 should be accurate (Bill looks younger here than he does as a
Goody).

David McAnally
From: asr@castle.ed.ac.uk (Angus "Fluffy" Rae)
Newsgroups: alt.comedy.british
Subject: Re: PLANK
Date: 26 Aug 92 16:18:54 GMT
Organization: CATHY_VoiceMail_Project

che238n@vaxc.cc.monash.edu.au writes:
>In article <1992Aug25.152330.11049@praxis.co.uk>, ijw@praxis.co.uk (Ian Wright) writes:
>>  The version I saw looked old!, more 50's than 70's, but there again the 70's
>>  seem like only yesterday to me. The second actor along side Eric
>>  Sykes though was definitly Tommy Cooper, (who probably deserves a
>>  newsgroup in his own right!)
>Rubbish, it was Arthur Lowe.

Nope, it wasn't. As has already been pointed out, there are two
versions. The one which I have on video (recorded at some unearthly hour
in the morning off Scottish) starts Eric Sykes and Tommy Cooper, and
says so in the titles. Also featured at various times are Roy Castle,
Bill Oddie, Ian Edwards and god knows how many other British comedy
actors. It's quite definitely the 50's, going by the cars on the road.
It's colour though, I think someone claimed it was B&W.
The jokes look cliched these days, but this was the film that introduced
them...

-- 
Angus G Rae, the Cuddly Vampire Teddy Bear [asr@castle.edinburgh.ac.uk]
CATHY VoiceMail, Computer Science Dept., Edinburgh University
"I'm on the run from the Facist Police with a murderer and
 a mass murderer and a man in a bri-nylon shirt."  Rimmer, Red Dwarf V
From: michael@adriaan.bu.edu (Michael Chaplin)
Newsgroups: alt.comedy.british
Subject: Re: Red Dwarf & hot Metal
Date: 2 Sep 92 01:39:12 GMT
	<MICHAEL.92Sep1164100@paul.bu.edu> <9224610.25886@mulga.cs.mu.OZ.AU>
Organization: Boston University
In-reply-to: scienger@ecr.mu.OZ.AU's message of 2 Sep 92 00:42:25 GMT

In article <9224610.25886@mulga.cs.mu.OZ.AU> scienger@ecr.mu.OZ.AU (Christopher_Robert INNES) writes:

  =In article <MICHAEL.92Sep1164100@paul.bu.edu>, michael@paul.bu.edu (Michael Chaplin) writes:

  => 
  => RD *is* fantastic. There's a node for it, though: alt.fan.red-dwarf
  => if I'm not mistaken.
  =>

  =it is actually alt.tv.red-dwarf

I stand corrected. Thanks!
Chaplin.


--
===========================================================================
Michael Chaplin                    Language is a virus from outer space.
michael@albert.bu.edu                     - William S. Burroughs

The Einstein Papers Project        The opinions contained herein reflect
Boston University                      neither those of the project, 
Boston, Massachusetts, U.S.A.          nor those of Albert Einstein.
Newsgroups: alt.comedy.british
From: catstyle@deja-vu.aiss.uiuc.edu (CatStyle )
Subject: Re: Is something wrong with deja-vu?
Organization: University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign
Date: Tue, 1 Sep 1992 18:21:43 GMT

In article <4048@svin09.info.win.tue.nl> alph@win.tue.nl writes:
>I tried to ftp from deja-vu, just now.
>But where have all the scripts gone 2?

What does just now mean?  I did it just now and it worked.
Yesterday (Monday Aug 31) morning the drive that contained all of my
archives was down, but everything should be back up now.

I also changed the permissions on a couple of files that were wrong
(Blackadder's Christmas Carol in particular).

If it doesn't work after you read this, email me.

CatStyle
jrh@uiuc.edu
From: zzassgl@uts.mcc.ac.uk (Geoff Lane)
Newsgroups: alt.comedy.british
Subject: Re: Red Dwarf & hot Metal
Date: 1 Sep 92 13:14:36 GMT
Organization: Manchester Computing Centre, Manchester, England, M13 9PL.

In article <1992Aug31.205118.14961@ichips.intel.com> smintz@sedona.intel.com (Stephen Mintz exp 11/92~) writes:
>
>Who else have seen these britcom....they put the others to shame!!!


Hot Metal is now horribly dated :-)  The real tabloid papers in the Uk have
far exceeded anything that appears in the series.




-- 
Geoff. Lane.                                  Janet: zzassgl@uk.ac.mcc.uts
UTS Sys Admin, Manchester Computing Centre, Oxford Rd, Manchester, M13 9PL
From: rb4s@hagar6.acc.Virginia.EDU (Rebecca  Bourn)
Newsgroups: alt.suburbs
Subject: Re: hello?
Date: 3 Sep 92 23:34:57 GMT
Reply-To: rb4s@hagar6.acc.Virginia.EDU (Rebecca  Bourn)
Distribution: usa
Organization: University of Virginia

Gee, I had almost forgotten about alt.suburbs.

But may I ask, without sounding rude, 
Why on _Earth_ do you live in the city and drive all the way 
to Bannockburn to work?
Maybe the commute is not as far for you as it would seem, 
but, as one who was raised in the 'burbs, 
I would consider the Bannockburn area at least a _decent_ 
place to call home :>)

--
Newsgroups: alt.suburbs
From: ccullen@ops-2.Naitc.Com (Carolyn Cullen)
Subject: hello?
Organization: AC Nielsen Co., Bannockburn IL
Date: Thu, 3 Sep 92 18:51:55 GMT

Well, just the need to post to a newsgroup that doesnt seem to be
getting any action.
Come on folks, forget those limp-minded postings that sound like
travelogs, how about the 'suburbs vs. city, dammit' or some such
discussion.
or SOME discussion at least.
Personally, i live in the city (Chicago) and work in the burbs and
could go on about such things, but not if no one is listening.

-- 
Carolyn Cullen           |"I'm gonna hit the highway like a battering   
ccullen@nis.naitc.com    | battering-ram on a silver black phantom bike"
DoD#0450 A.C. Nielsen,IL | --Meatloaf
Newsgroups: alt.suburbs
From: scholl@uvmark.uucp (Kathryn Scholl)
Subject: Re: Springfield and the Simpsons
Date: Sun, 23 Aug 92 14:59:26 GMT
Organization: Vmark Software, Inc.

In article dtasman@dante.nmsu.edu (Dan Tasman) writes:
>
>It is a fairly generic sounding name, though.  Most suburb names tend to be  
>rather pleasant and bland, compared to the city they accompany.  A prime  
>example is Cleveland, where it seems like every suburb is called "Something  
>Heights".  

Interesting point.  I come from California (both Northern and Southern),
where the suburbs have an understandably Spanish-name influence, combined
with a mish-mash of beachy/named-after-someone/tree influence.  Pretty
varied in other words.

But when I moved to Boston, the suburb names took on a whole different
ambiance.  Most are named after towns in England, hence many "proper
English last names", like Milton, Weston, Medford, Winchester, Quincy,
Peabody, Medfield (just to name a few!).

It was (and still is a bit), very confusing to me, since the towns (versus
cities as we called them in CA, but that's a whole different post!), sort
of start to sound the same:

   Milford
   Medford
   Medway
   Medfield
   Westfield
   Westford
   Weston
   Westborough
   Marlborough
   Northborough
       |
       |   ...and so on.

Get the picture?
Plus the "towns" here are so small in size, it makes it even more difficult,
since there are so many!

Suburbs were definitely part of my cultural experience when moving out here.
When I have the time, I'll have to post all the differences between the
Boston/SF-LA East/West Coast suburbs...there are lots!


-- 
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
 Kathryn Scholl  ** Above text reflects opinions of the author, not VMark **
 Vmark Software, Inc., 30 Speen Street, Framingham, MA  01701, USA
 Internet: uvmark!scholl@merk.com, UUCP: uunet!merk.com!uvmark!scholl
Newsgroups: alt.suburbs
From: mjo@ef2007.efhd.ford.com (Mike O'Connor)
Subject: Re: hello?
X-Disclaimer: Not an official spokesperson for Ford OPEO
Reply-To: Mike O'Connor <mjo@fmsrl7.srl.ford.com>
Organization: International Affairs, Overseas Engineering, "Fordz"
Distribution: usa
Date: Fri, 4 Sep 1992 20:48:28 GMT


alt.suburbs is one of those newsgroups I'd like to forget as well.  :)

-- 
 Michael J. O'Connor           |  Internet:  mjo@fmsrl7.srl.ford.com
 Ford Motor Company, OPEO      |  UUCP:      ...!{backbone}!fmsrl7!mjo
 20000 Rotunda, Bldg. 1-3001   |  Phone:     +1 (313) 248-1260
 Dearborn, MI  48121           |  Fax:       +1 (313) 323-6277
From: rob@violet.berkeley.edu (Rob Robertson)
Newsgroups: alt.suburbs
Subject: Re: Springfield and the Simpsons
Date: 25 Aug 92 13:18:21
Organization: /home/math_a/cc/rob/.organization
	<1992Aug25.004246.1228@nmsu.edu> <25AUG199208075739@mars.lerc.nasa.gov>
NNTP-Posting-Host: hanalei.berkeley.edu
In-reply-to: schenn@mars.lerc.nasa.gov's message of 25 Aug 1992 08:07 EDT  

In article <25AUG199208075739@mars.lerc.nasa.gov> schenn@mars.lerc.nasa.gov (Lisa Henn) writes:
   Oddly, though,
   one of the other neighbors, University HEIGHTS, home of Case Western Reserve
   University, is NOT a Nuclear Free Zone (as far as I know).

correction:
case western reserve is located in Cleveland proper.  it is bordered
by cleveland heights tho.  i don't think cleveland is a NFZ.

rob
--
			  william robertson
		       rob@violet.berkeley.edu

     "when i was your age, i walked 10 miles to school, unarmed."
From: iam30974@uxa.cso.uiuc.edu (uncertain_future)
Newsgroups: alt.prose
Subject: Clown Retiring
Date: 30 Aug 92 05:07:44 GMT
Organization: University of Illinois at Urbana

Any criticisms replies comments suggestions or damnations welcome...
(forward all fires to iam30974@uxa.cso.uiuc as usual)
===
===
===

			CLOWN RETIRING



     You won't see my writing on the purity-white walls of a Dutch-
Boy commercial.  I was never focused enough to write on strange trains--
the talk of scented people without seatbelts facing forwards when they know
from injured friends that it would be safer to sit backwards.  Strange
trains and foreign domiciles of all shapes and sizes killed my pen, drying
my inkwell silly-- they choked it with the noose of hospitality.

		*		*		*

	I pressed the illuminated doorbell, and it easily retracted into its
hole in response to a feathered touch.  Index finger practically entered
a full centimeter into the cave of the illuminated doorbell.  I took a large
step back out of habit.  To my right stood Mary with even higher-heels than
the previous evening.  She carried the bottle of wine which I forced her not
to wrap at all, but precisely when Hannah opened the front door, I decided
to change my mind.  Too late.  That's how protocol works.
	"Hey!  You're on time for once," she greeted us.  The door opened
clockwise for some reason, and I soon found myself holding the bottle Mary
passed me as she entered first, hugging Hannah somewhat prematurely:
Their arms wrapped momentarily around each other's neck like the largest of
pretzel creations, Mary's pale limbs around the impressively tanned neck
of the Other. I noticed beneath my breath that their breasts failed
to touch.  Hannah wasn't wearing a ring anymore.
	"Good directions, but lousy traffic," I said.  "We were hoping to
be early for once after all these years, believe it or not."  My hands
exchanged the bottle as I freed my right hand for the doorframe.  You see,
I was feeling a bit off-balance, and steadied myself accordingly.

		*		*		*		

     I'm still a coward on text.  Dreams represented my final playground of
craziness, wherein I could inebriate my senses on victory; conquest of my
faults.  For example, "Yes, it was I who broke your mother's respirator...
...so what?"  But alas, my dreams became too perfect to be simple dreams.

		*		*		*

	Ethan retaliated with a sporkful of high-school cafeteria applesauce,
targeting my face, but actually creating a golden delicious stripe from my
navel to mouth.  Almost in tears, I watched him courageously wipe my frail
spittle off the nape of his freckled neck in seconds.  Sadly, I carried his
applesauce stench for 3 more hours, through the afterschool crowd, and down
the farthest two miles across town, home to shower before dinner.


--
-ivan
From: dliebman@terapin.com (David Liebman)
Newsgroups: alt.prose
Subject: Re: My body
Date: 29 Aug 92 23:30:55 GMT
Organization: BBS

In article <goodman.714902849@chaos.cs.brandeis.edu>,
goodman@chaos.cs.brandeis.edu (Marc Goodman) writes:

>
>My dietary habits have also changed.  Though never a fancier of fruits
>and vegetables, my craving for red meat has greatly increased.
>Further, the meats which I purchase at the local supermarket seem to
>have an unhealthy odor as if they lacked in freshness.  Did I neglect
>to mention that my sense of smell has also increased sharply?  Ah
>well, I fear that soon I shall have no recourse but to search out
>sources of fresher food.

you might consider organically grown vegetables.
Newsgroups: alt.prose
From: aaiken@bronze.ucs.indiana.edu (Andrew C. Aiken)
Subject: Repost: Too Many Cats
Organization: Indiana University
Date: Wed, 26 Aug 1992 15:02:16 GMT




	You awake and stumble to the mirror
	Do you see a cat staring back at you?

	We sail to Mars and beyond 
	pretending not to be cats
	but the cats are with us, like it or not.

	Everywhere there are cats.
	In our cars, our homes, in the office
	there are cats.
	Our notebooks and briefcases are stuffed with cats.

	The cement mixers overflow with cats.  Cats 
	rule our cities.  From the catwalks above to
	the subways below, we are beset by too many cats.

	In New York there is a skyscraper wholly constructed
	from living cats.  

	How many times have you picked up a pencil, only to 
	discover that it was really a cleverly disguised cat?

	Obviously, their camoflague is improving.

	Just recently, we have been craving tuna.  Are we turning
	into cats?

	If the cats ask you where you heard it, tell them
	you forgot.  I say there are too many cats.
	


Andrew Aiken
From: paulchem@tigger.cs.Colorado.EDU (Icarus)
Newsgroups: alt.prose
Subject: The Spellmaster Recanst
Date: 27 Aug 92 01:34:10 GMT
Organization: The Net-Anarchists of SCI, Inc.
              Flaming Homer Division.


1]

           The SpellMaster Recanst 
          --------------------------


When I was ten years old, my english teacher hit me on the head for
spelling #it with a you in it,  & I lost my
concsiosness, falling into a ,

When I wok up I was full grown and there is little . in telling
you folk about my trubles.

I cant rememmber all the details of my perverssion.
Or its subsequeent developement.

Years ago my phone rang and i said hello.
A swit voice said Hi, aah, Hi, aah Hi.
so I said what ?
she said this is debi, aaaah! hi.
I asked her if it was debi with two bees in it like debbi
or debi with two ais in it like debii.
so she said no its debi with two bees in it and one aaai in it
and a eeeh at the end.
I said I did not know eny debi.
she asked me if I was all alon.
I sed no but could she help me spell ennervasion ?
she slamed the fon down.
My only chanse to spell ennervasion and she doesnt know how !
Discusting all veri discusting.


All my life or at least a large % of it, i Have been runing from
this damien.

I was tricked by a ` who pretended he was a cat`.
The wile serphent was subtil the end. Chasing me relentlesly, all the way 
down the raod as i -ed past the ! & I came to the .
It was sudenlly dark & I rememmbered what the * #its had said.
There was going to be an ... yesterday knight.
i felt a ! in the darkness and a tap on my shoulder & there was the mosnter.
A full grown :
I took out my {} and -ed it to the ground.
it lost a ' of its " of armur & had only a ' left.
blind to everything else it could now see only ** s
Let me tell you its future was a big ?
I smiled my 22 ^ smile and kilt him with a furious # of my nuckles.
He split in half & lay there in two ; s.


I guess you can call me a ,-chamaleon. 
You know, I just ,, ,, , and go. 


2] Stay Cool.
   Comments and Flames welcome.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
.    ~ ~                                                                     .
.    o o      signito ergo sum.              paul chemmanoor.                .
.     |    i sign therefore i am.            Computer Science department.    .
.     =                                      Univ. of Colorado, Boulder.     .
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: NAT@draco.drao.nrc.ca (Natalie Prowse)
Newsgroups: alt.prose
Subject: The Wrong Kind of Love
Date: 25 Aug 92 22:59:09 GMT
Organization: University of Regina, Regina, Sask., Canada.
X-News-Reader: VMS NEWS 1.11

(Posted for a friend)
------------------------------

The wrong kind of love.

The kind that gives you 
a sick feeling of uncertainty,
in the pit of your stomach.

The kind where you know you are
in deeper, but you can't say no.

The kind where you rationalize 
away the negatives.

The kind that feels electric,
and exciting, and scary.
Not warm and beautiful and blissful.

The kind that grabs hold like an addiction, 
and you can never seem to get enough.

The kind that makes you take chances,
roll the dice, taste the pleasure,
feel the rush.
(The kind where you know 
the odds are stacked against you.)

The kind that lifts you up
so high,
that the (inevitable) 
fall
will break your spirit.

The kind that leaves you
devastated 
when it goes...

...trailing the glittering shards 
of your self-esteem 
in its wake.

The wrong kind of love.
---------------------------------------

-Natalie
Newsgroups: alt.prose
From: txdv1@isuvax.iastate.edu (Angela KAY Rolling)
Subject: a tall\   a dark side poet
Reply-To: txdv1@isuvax.iastate.edu
Organization: Iowa State University, Ames, Iowa
Date: Sun, 23 Aug 1992 19:05:51 GMT

		A DARK SIDE POET

	Her tribe had been travaling for days. Ker/sh~aw had waxed and waned
three t5=es sence they left the last camp spot. K~n/ta once. The season was 
not right for the moons Labor, Kent, and Tens~en. T~ent/a thou full when they
left was in its new state. It was the time of year when the constalation 
Drek~ra (gient rat) appers to be swalowing the moons. Lantre, the tribes
cor/ont (high prest\ist),predicted a ke/tra (eclipse)dering T~ent/a's next 
full. Lor/sh~aw,the tribes leader, had called a stop. The tribe was running 
out of supplys and a group was sent out to hunt. If all went well they would
stay there till after Ker/sh~aw had waxed and waned agen (aprox. three weaks)
	they would countinu to the shantre gathering after the meat was packed,
but for now Ca/tra had time .  Every seven years the Shantre gater together
to share expereances and compete. Hear the dead are remembered and berths
noted. They meet at Lar Desh/ot/tean (the vally of twillight). They compete
in areas of the hunt as well as in story telling and poetry. The first thing
on the agenda of the gathering being the starting speach. Every year a 
difrint tribes leader has the oner of giving it. This year it was her fathers
turn. Any one who wanted to could write a speach, the best would be chosen
by the tribe to be given at the gathering. Ca/tra was deturmined to write
that speach,
	As she sat wondering about what to write her mind wondered over the
life that they lived and the world they lived in, she wrote on her paper->
		were night rains eternal

She thought about the line. It definitly applied to the dark side were her
people live. Her mind agen wondered, this time to the uthere day whin Neta's
daughter was jumped by a bush snag (a snake like creature). She wrote->
		danger in the brush

Yes that to fit. She remembered her mother who had died whin she was rather 
young and of her father who was so over protective that she was worried that 
she wasnt ready to protect her self. She finished with ->
		were lifes light is forfit
		deaths dawn rising

This wint on for a time and in the end she looked at what she had writen,
and it wasnt a speach at all. Here is what she wrote---->


were }idarkniss rains eternal
danger in the brush
were lifes light is forfit 
deaths dawn rising

were the moons hang suspended 
wake and wane
were mothers protect there dauters
from dangers creaping near

were stars hang in balince
spects in the night
were scilence brings no danger
for creatures of thought

here you find the shantre
in villiges beyond sight
here are the filds 
planted with sham

here is were we're born
a life of servival
here is were we die
in vallys of little light

by angela rolling @1992
From: valerie@sdacs.ucsd.edu (Valerie E Polichar)
Newsgroups: alt.prose
Subject: Vignette: Things She Wants
Date: 25 Aug 92 18:02:32 GMT
Distribution: na
Organization: University of California, San Diego

Things She Wants


It is a hot day in 1963; she is making love to a stranger in the far
end of a trailer park in Miami.  The woman beside her has blonde hair
which is getting stringy with sweat.  Her long skirt is hiked up around
her waist and her feet are dusty from walking barefoot through the
trailer park.  Just above the woman's right eyebrow is a long thin
scar that stretches off into her hairline.  A small breeze moves
the shade on the west window into a lazy dance-step against the pane:
one-two.  One-two.

But this is a dream; it isn't 1963, it is 1976 and the woman beside her
has grass in her hair and still has her boots on.

It is early March, 1982.  Birds wander across the front lawn, eating
the grass seed she planted last Sunday.  Her lover is in the back room,
packing up her clothes and crying.  She stands over a pile of bread
dough in the kitchen, pounding it, also crying.  Her tears are falling
into the bread dough.  If it gets too much salt, it might not rise.
Her lover is leaving because she hates her.  Her lover is leaving
because she hates having cold feet pressed to her thighs in the middle
of the night.  Her lover is leaving because she thinks she doesn't
clean the bathtub often enough.  Her lover is leaving because she
thinks she plays her stereo too loudly.

Her lover is leaving because she doesn't want anyone to think she is gay.

It is 1986.  She sits at the breakfast table and sips cold coffee.
Across from her at the table there is a small space for a plate to go
in.  Behind the space on the table there is a chair for a husband to go
in.  Two, three bicycles could fit in the hall, for the children which
could go in the empty bedroom upstairs.  There is space on the table by
the door for their backpacks.  But she does only one load of laundry a week.

Sometimes she sees someone on the street, and from the back or from the
side or from a distance she can't tell whether they're male or female;
she can only tell that she wants them, wants them, wants them.
-- 
Valerie Polichar				valerie@ucsd.edu

     "Our dreams our real; our lives are bitter lies."
Newsgroups: alt.prose