HDTenEightyP/NetNews huggingface dataset:
From: beaver@castor.cs.psu.edu (Don Beaver)
Subject: Re: Pony Support (was Re: child support problems)
Date: Tue, 15 Dec 1992 16:13:43 GMT

In article <1gg0cgINNfis@gw.home.vix.com> shedevil@vix.com (Anne P. Mitchell JD) writes:
>
>May I suggest that, at least in part, what is going on here is a
>confusion of the issues, compounded by emotional clouding?

>As these issues get all muddied up and clouded, people are running
>high on emotions, and mixing the issues, resulting in anger,
>frustration, flaming, etc.

>For the record, my take on these issues:
>
>Child-support is not for the purpose of covering such discretionary
>items as ballet, ponies, karate, etc.  In CA, support is determined by
>income, not need/items, so it's kind of irrelevant.  But I'd be
>shocked if any of the judges I've been before would ever order
>additional support to pay for any discretionary items such as a pony.
>This is the legal issue of what is support supposed to be fore.
>
>The father, assuming he really is in a position to provide for these
>extras, is probably a coldhearted jerk.  That's a moral/emotional
>issue.
>
>Should the father have to pay for the discretionary things which Lisa
>chooses to provide for the child she has custody of?  Not in my
>opinion, generally speaking.  Would it be a morally nice thing if he
>did pay?  Of course it would, but that's between him and his maker.


Thanks, Anne, for the mediation (are you *really* a lawyer? :-).
I think your summary is accurate.

For the record, I have been arguing what you mentioned in the last
paragraph -- though I think that another group of people was arguing 
what you mentioned in the paragraph preceding it ("The father...").

Hence, our voluminous "You Just Don't Understand" debate.

Don
-- 
beaver@cs.psu.edu                       Opinions from the PC-challenged
From: v076jy2p@ubvmsd.cc.buffalo.edu (Capt'n Quaalude)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.havens-rest
Subject: [M.H] The adventures of Major Havoc
Date: 12 Dec 92 19:41:00 GMT
Organization: University at Buffalo
News-Software: VAX/VMS VNEWS 1.41

> Havoc:  Nearest bank.  Gotta pick up some cash.  Here.  *Havoc tosses a small
>	gold rod through the pay window*  Do you take gold?
> 
>Cabbie:  Uh, YES SIR!  To the bank, sir!

	Havoc frowned as he walked around the corner to take a short cut
through the alleyway.  Somebody was intimidating some poor shmo.  Mentally
shrugging, he turned back around and smiled.

 Havoc:  'Money in my pocket, strange cultures, and money to be made.  This
	is my element.'

	He rounded the corner and saw the enterance to the place the cabbie
recommened.  He saw some sort of giant, blob thing oozing under the door.
Walking over and opening the door up he could see it move to the bar.  Havoc
was startled when it shape changed into a humanoid.  Then noticed that everybody
else was staring at it to.  Havoc grinned to himself as he imagined a big 
"SUCKER" sign appear on his back.  Putting on his best sale smile, Havoc walked
over to the bar.

 Havoc:  Hi, how's it going?  Name's Major Havoc.  *Havoc reached out and 
	grabbed it's hand and shakes it, hard*  You mind if I take a seat?
	*Havoc let's go and sits down*  Thanks.  You, my friend, look out
	of your element.  I'm new here myself.  What you having?  *Havoc
	turns to the bartender*  Eh, barkeep!  Tonic water for me and 
	another order of whatever my friend here is having, on me!  *Havoc
	tosses a 1000 cred chit on the table*  Oh, let's start a tab, ok?
	*Turns back to it*  By the way, never did catch your name.  You're
	called...


================================================================================
If something can go wrong, FIX it! (To hell with Murphy.)  When in doubt, THINK!
If you can't win, change the rules.  If you can't change the rules, ignore them.
The squeaky wheel gets canned.  Do things by the book, but be the author. If you
can't beat 'em, join'em then beat'em.  Everything in your life is based on some-
thing else and in order to live a full life you must find what lies at the root
of all else.  For me, it's my self.
			       _______________
The world needs a new kind     |_____________|	   Robert Goodfellow was a
hero. A hero that can't be       |         |	   normal student, until one
bought off, scared off, or       | Capt'n  |	   day he needed to relax and 
killed off.  Such a hero         | Quaalude|	   swallowed a radioactive 
would have to be on drugs.       | 3 times |	   quaalude...
			         | a day   |
				 |         |
				 |_________|
			The man who should be on drugs
================================================================================
From: blackburn-dean@yale.edu (Dean Blackburn)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.havens-rest
Subject: [Sniff] take two...
Date: 19 Dec 1992 01:39:01 -0500
Organization: Yale University, Spooge Haven, CT
NNTP-Posting-Host: minerva.cis.yale.edu




     Sniff looked up from his glass at the proceedings, and decided to stay
well enough away from the amorphous alien for the time being... At least until
he could figure out what had happened to him in the past...
 
   "...22 hours?!? I've only been gone 22 hours."
 
Something had definitely gone wrong. The Core only initiated replication after
at least 36 hours of dead-time... Just to make sure the host wasn't going to
come back. It had actually turned out to be useful on a few occasions, as it
left enough time for his killers to let their guard down. Picking up the hefty
case, Sniff looked it over once more. Sure enough, the unit had been pretty
roughed up since he last looked at it. Markings he had earlier filed away as
scratches were actually particles of various materials embedded in the titanium
frame of the Core. Now he would need not only to get his bearings and find out
what had happened, but he would have to find someone who could repair the Core.
Finding such a person, especially on Serendipity, would be no easy task.
 
 **
 
     Benno shook with anticipation. Soon Dingo would walk through that door,
tear that little pipsqueak apart, and give him a nice big bottle of Spin. He
could almost feel the cerebral extract unravelling on his tongue, telling him
in faint whispers and images of someone else's life... A life that could have
been his. Glancing at his watch, he chuckled softly. Marta would be home now,
home and waiting for him to come back drunk and wasted. He had no intention of
disappointing her. 
 
     Benno waited another ten minutes before losing control. Dingo should have
been there by now. It had to be a trick, or something. Benno was sick of
Dingo's games. He would get the briefcase, and bring it to Dingo himself.
Hauling himself from his seat, he began to stagger in the direction of the
child. Taking care to bump into the shapely waitron, Benno amazed himself by
actually arriving at the bar without collapsing. He was weak, but hell if he
couldn't take a little kid, even in his state.
 
   "Hey, compadre, why don't you let ol' Benno have a look see at your toy
there..." 
 
  **
 
     Sniff looked up into Benno's eyes and almost died again right there.
Stumbling back with flailing hands, he could only watch as the tall scraggly
gutterpunk took the Core. Hitting the floor for the second time in fifteen
minutes, he felt his senses fade slightly. His whole world was turning a sickly
shade of brown. Hearing his own muffled scream under the rush of his blood, he
tried to speak.
 
   "Someone... The box is mine. Someone help..."
 
Brown faded to black as Sniff lost control of his conciousness.


-- 
  
 -<blkburn@minerva.cis.yale.edu PO box 817 New Haven, CT 06520-0817>-
Newsgroups: alt.pub.havens-rest
From: metlay@netcom.com (metlay)
Subject: [Red Rain] Re: Battle of the Bands [Intro: Anthony]
Summary: Eeuu, what manner of beastie is THAT?
Organization: Atomic City
Date: Mon, 14 Dec 1992 23:32:34 GMT

In article <1992Dec14.032837.8643@ultb.isc.rit.edu> sri4495@ritvax.isc.rit.edu writes:

>	Immediatly after the band walked off the stage, Anthony made a bee-line
>right for them, and aiming at the violinist in particular.  Many people got out
>of his way, seeing as he looked very determined, and a determined looking troll
>is not a very pretty sight.  He stomped his way right up to the teenaged
>virtuoso, and stuck out a huge, meaty hand.  "I must say, that was beautiful!  I
>particularly liked the acapella work at the end!  Simply amazing! Though, I
>would have preferd the music at a lower volume myself... Not that I minded you
>drounding out what I _was_ listening to!"  He displace the musicchip, with
>"Bolaro" writen on the label.

"Hum, de nada," Lita managed, looking up at him dubiously. "We normally
play a lot softer, we were just trying to make a point to the chollo with
the guitar over there..."

"Who also apparently is a classical flautist of some sort," Ree said.

"Shaddup, Ree."

Nona looked up at Anthony, who was still looking only at Elly. "I know
what my mother would say about you," she said softly. She'd say, Boy,
you is UGLY, she thought privately. Mutant? Offshoot DNA type? Eek!

"Um, thank you," Elly said very quietly, her eyes wide as she looked up
(and up and UP) at the huge manlike creature that was holding her hand
in such a gentle caress and speaking in such an incongruously soft voice.

>	"Oh!  Uh, barkeep, is my drink ready?"
>	Mas looked very confused.  "Uh, sure, here you go.  Iced tea, with
>lemon."

"Ohhhh, you have TEA?" Elly's eyes widened prettily. "I'd like one too,
please." She dimpled as she looked up at Anthony. "Thank you for the 
kind words," she said softly. "I hope you'll come back to hear us more
often." Then she pranced off to Malachi's table.


-- 
metlay            |
atomic city       | "If he talks to you, punch him. I'll catch the baby."
                  | 
metlay@netcom.com |                                           (k. geisel)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.havens-rest
From: fogelinc@nmr1.Cyanamid.COM (Carl Fogelin)
Subject: Quig finds a mouth, just testing...
Reply-To: fogelinc@nmr1.Cyanamid.COM
Organization: American Cyanamid Company
Date: Thu, 17 Dec 1992 15:25:36 GMT

"By gum, mayhaps I can speak directly now" muttered Quig as he reached for
another meatball.    ;-)


Carl Fogelin (fogelincc@cyanamid.com)
      "Sushi!  That's what my ex-wife called me.  Cold fish." -- Blade Runner

      Up the long ladder and down the short rope
      To hell with King Billy and God bless the Pope. -- Traditional
Newsgroups: alt.pub.havens-rest
From: hutch@ibeam.intel.com (Steve Hutchison)
Subject: Re: ADMIN: Hello, is there anybody out there?
Organization: Intel Corp., Hillsboro, Oregon
Date: Sat, 19 Dec 1992 08:40:26 GMT

tkelly@unix2.tcd.ie (Mithrandir) writes:

>    Hey everybody, what happened, did somebody nuke the pub?

Warning.  Do not enter the premises.  Decontamination is in progress.
Warning.  Nanite release in 10 seconds.  All organics please avoid
contact with all interior surfaces.  Do not inhale.

5. 4. 3. 2. 1.  Nanites released.  Organic scavenger mode active.

---

"Hey, who forgot to lock the door?"

"I dunno.  You suppose anyone went inside?"

"Nah, they had the warning running."

"Oh, good.  Awright - they're showing 'Pod People' on MST tonight."

"I wanna be Crow."

"No, I do."

"Look, it's MY virtuvid."

"Dickweed."

Newsgroups: alt.pub.havens-rest
From: cleggp@rebecca.its.rpi.edu (Paul Jason Clegg)
Subject: [Paul]:  Andru Contract, Conclusion
Organization: Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, Troy, NY
Date: Tue, 15 Dec 1992 00:33:30 GMT

Paul looks up, and a large projectile rips through the cerami-plastic visor
on his helmet, piercing through his forehead and messily depositing his brains
on the back of the helmet.

ADMIN:  Paul is dead.  You can freely talk of his disappearance from the bar
scene, or make wild rumors about how he died.  I wasn't going anywhere with 
this character, and I needed to wrap up the story somehow before I left for
Christmas vacation.

...Paul


-- 
+                +        +    +  + + +  +    +        +                +
  Paul Clegg, cleggp@aix.rpi.edu.   <I> killed God, why do you ask? 
         System One RPG designer.   Project Galactic Guide Coordinator.
+                +        +    +  + + +  +    +        +                +
Newsgroups: alt.pub.havens-rest
From: bcash@crchh410.BNR.CA (Brian Cash)
Subject: Re: ADMIN: Hello, is there anybody out there?
Reply-To: bcash@crchh410.BNR.CA (Brian Cash)
Organization: Bell-Northern Research Ltd.
Date: Sat, 19 Dec 1992 01:56:17 GMT

It's Christmas time, dude!  Wait till the 5th...

Happy Holidays!

Brian /-|-\    aka Arthur
From: metlay@netcom.com (metlay)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.havens-rest
Subject: [Red Rain] Re: Intro: Malachi Armageddon
Summary: Armageddon tired of this....
Date: 12 Dec 92 04:09:59 GMT
Organization: Atomic City

In article <Bz485I.6IJ@acsu.buffalo.edu> v124jw4y@ubvmsb.cc.buffalo.edu (Benjamin R Pierce) writes:
>
>Ooops...apologies on that, I didn't see anything about another band in the 
>articles available. (Looks chagrined)

No harm done.

>>Wiping her face with a towel, Lita walked up to the bar and said, "We
>>can't play every night, Mas, but you theenk you could see your way clear
>>to hiring thees chollo--" She cocked a thumb at Malachi "-- for our off
>>nights? He's not bad." She snorted. "For a GUITARIST."
>
>
>
>Malachi ignored the obvious barb and looked at Lita.  "Damn fine
>sound," he said after a minute.  "What the hell are a bunch of real
>musicians doing in a place like this?"  He cracked a smile and said,
>"Sorry about the misunderstanding...I thought the band had decided to
>pull a no-show...apparently the good bartender was talking about a band
>who're supposed to do a number tomorrow night for a private party." (ADMIN:
>Anybody got an excuse to throw a private party tomorrow night?). "Anyhow,
>sorry again about muscling in...that's not usually my style.  Especially
>not with professionals.  One thing, though...about the guitarist crack?"
>
>Before Lita can respond, Malachi draws a complex, alien-looking wind instrument
>out of his bag and begins to play.  Now there is no sign of his earlier swagger
>or strut, no flashy, high-energy beat...just pure, intricate music which is
>slightly alien to the ear, but fascinatingly so.  Malachi plays for a couple of
>minutes, then stops and gives Lita a half-smile.  "Just 'cause I can play guitar
>doesn't make me a guitarist, sister," he says.  "Some of us appreciate real 
>music, too...but this," he indicates his guitar, "is what pays the bills."
>Quirking another half-smile, he takes his drink and retires to a secluded table,
>where he begins tuning the strange instrument. 

Lita watched him go, obviously impressed but searching for a suitable 
retort. Nona scratched her chin thoughtfully. Ree raised an eyebrow.

"A guitarist who plays the flute, girlfriend?" Nona asked.

"Pah," Lita finally said disgustedly, going back to the stage.

Elly looked at Malachi with an odd expression. She walked over to the
table where he'd sat down, shuffled her feet nervously, and said, 
"I uh...." She blushed furiously. "I uh...." After a few moments of
struggling to get past that much, she whirled away and ran to the stage.
A moment later, she came back, violin in hand, and said, "Can you teach
me what scale you were using?"

Lita clapped a hand to her forehead. "Ay, MADRE DE DIOS!"

Nona grinned at Ree, and the two of them launched into a quiet jazz
duet, ignoring the drummer's moans. But one or the other of them 
always kept an eye on Elly, as she sat down at Malachi's table....

-- 
metlay            |
atomic city       | "If he talks to you, punch him. I'll catch the baby."
                  | 
metlay@netcom.com |                                           (k. geisel)
From: tkelly@unix2.tcd.ie (Mithrandir)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.havens-rest
Subject: ADMIN: Hello, is there anybody out there?
Date: 18 Dec 92 17:19:05 GMT
Organization: Trinity College, Dublin


    Hey everybody, what happened, did somebody nuke the pub?

--
 Haggis: Haggis is a black pudding eaten by the Scots and considered not
only a delicacy, but fit for human consumtion.The minced heart, liver
and lungs of a sheep are mixed with oatmeal and boiled in the sheep's
stomach before ...Excuse me a minute... [Mithrandir/tkelly@unix2.tcd.ie]
From: v124jw4y@ubvmsd.cc.buffalo.edu (Benjamin R Pierce)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.havens-rest
Subject: INTRO: Floop Burbleblop
Date: 12 Dec 92 05:54:00 GMT
Organization: University at Buffalo
News-Software: VAX/VMS VNEWS 1.41

Many adventurers had come through the door of Haven's Rest over the years.
Some had walked through it, some had been thrown through it...this one sort
of oozed through the crack at the bottom of the door.

Several of the patrons stopped to stare at the creature slithering across the
floor, which looked for all the world like a giant amoeba.  Oozing up to the
bar, it suddenly began to pulse and shift, surging upward...within a few 
seconds, a small, nondescript androgynous-looking humanoid with brown hair
stood where the blob had been.  The creature could apparently duplicate clothes
as well, because the new form was clad in an ordinary-looking grey jumpsuit and
darker grey jacket.  The creature stopped to touch its throat briefly, and then
turned to the bartender and said, "Salutations.  I am new to this place.  This
is an establishment for the purchase of sustenance, is it not?"  Mas nodded.
'Excellent.  Could you please provide me with three litres of salt water and
 a packet of protein concentrates?"  Credits appeared in the hand of the being,
 seeming to ooze out of the skin.  Mas, after checking to make sure they were 
 real, shrugged and handed over the requested meal.  As long as the customer 
 could pay, Mas didn't really care what it changed into...
From: dshaffer@andromeda.rutgers.edu (Donald A Shaffer)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.havens-rest
Subject: [ADMIN] can one of you do me a favor
Date: 16 Dec 92 18:04:02 GMT
Organization: Rutgers Univ., New Brunswick, N.J.


  since I'm going to be gone this winter with no acces, I was wondering if one of you here would take the time and space to keep an archive of the articles here from this saturday till january 21st. i would be very grateful.

Don Shaffer AKA Mas hasterson AKA PW
dshaffer@andromeda.rutgers.edu
Newsgroups: alt.pub.havens-rest
From: sri4495@ritvax.isc.rit.edu
Subject: [Red Rain][Anthony] A Request.....
Reply-To: sri4495@ritvax.isc.rit.edu
Organization: Rochester Institute of Technology
Date: Fri, 18 Dec 1992 15:40:12 GMT


>"Ohhhh, you have TEA?" Elly's eyes widened prettily. "I'd like one too,
>please." She dimpled as she looked up at Anthony. "Thank you for the 
>kind words," she said softly. "I hope you'll come back to hear us more
>often." Then she pranced off to Malachi's table.

Anthony watches her leave, surprise writen on his face.  He had been
prepared for her to brush him off, to scream in terror, or even to be
condecending.  It had happened so many times, sometimes he wondered why
he even tried.

Now he knew.  Because deep down, he had always wanted to meet the one person
who would not scorn him, and who seemed to care.  He should have known
he would find it in a young girl.

Under his breath, he sings a small refrain.

"I could have told you, Vincent,
this world wasn't meant for one as
beautiful as you..."

The tattered remains of his voice are harsh, and cutting, yet have the
intonation of a trained singer.  Like a horribly abused instument, played
by a performer.

He turns to the other members of the band.  "Innocence, skill, and beauty are
rare things.  To find them combined in one person is even rarer.  Such people
are guiding lights for people like me... and targets for others.  Protect
her.  Guide her.

Cherish her."

Anthony turns, not trusting his voice.  He quickly stalks away, hiding his
deformed body in the shadows, and connecting to his deck, so he can hide
his reality in the dream of cyberspace.
From: kellogg@ducvax.auburn.edu
Subject: [Foxx/Jake] Human?
Organization: Auburn University, AL
Date: Fri, 11 Dec 1992 22:30:37 GMT

[Foxx/Jake] (How do you drink without a throat?)
}"I am still *mostly* human, not a situation I particularly like, but kind of 
}inevitable in my line of work.", Jake puts the Gargle Blaster down.  "It's a 
}souvenir of my last engagement. My head was nearly severed by a piece of
}shrapnel, this was all the med ship had. Damned second rate cybertech, they
}had to replace my entire throat and neck...", Jake says in his hollow voice, a 
}little embarrassed.  "The only good part about the replacement is that it has
}saved my life twice...", Jake picks up the Gargle Blaster and takes another sip.
}"Would you happen to know where I could get a high grade voder, Mr. Foxx?", Jake
}querries...

Foxx holds up a finger and smiles, "Doctor Foxx actually.  I could do it
myself.  I don't exactly carry stock in my ship, but I can keep an eye out
for a good model if you like."

Foxx then shrugs, "Of course if you don't have any radiation cell damage,
it would be a lot easier to give you a human larynx.  Just clone one from
a cell culture and pop it in...  Take about three days to set it up.  I
prefer human tissue:  it may be more fragile but, it's self repairing."

2G Scott
Dr. Chris Foxx
Newsgroups: alt.pub.havens-rest
From: tap2368@zeus.tamu.edu (PYE, TOMASO ANTHONY)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.havens-rest
Subject: Re: [Foxx/Jake] Human?
Date: 12 Dec 1992 03:30 CST
Organization: Texas A&M University, Academic Computing Services
Distribution: world
NNTP-Posting-Host: zeus.tamu.edu
News-Software: VAX/VMS VNEWS 1.41    

In article <1992Dec11.173037.1@ducvax.auburn.edu>, kellogg@ducvax.auburn.edu writes...
> 
>Foxx holds up a finger and smiles, "Doctor Foxx actually.  I could do it
>myself.  I don't exactly carry stock in my ship, but I can keep an eye out
>for a good model if you like."
> 
>Foxx then shrugs, "Of course if you don't have any radiation cell damage,
>it would be a lot easier to give you a human larynx.  Just clone one from
>a cell culture and pop it in...  Take about three days to set it up.  I
>prefer human tissue:  it may be more fragile but, it's self repairing."
> 
Jake smiles, "If you can find someway to hook the real thing into the 
cyber-links, I would be most greatful."  Jake can hardly control his joy at 
the thought of finally getting his `real' voice back.  He takes another sip of
the Gargle Blaster, "When can we get started Dr. Foxx?"  Jake thinks to himself,
 "maybe I'm not getting to old for this after all", he thinks about his upcoming
birthday... "Then again maybe I am...", he thinks out loud.  Jake finishes off
the Gargle Blaster, but even he has trouble trying to hide the effects....

                      -- Jake Ehteran
================================================================================
Tomaso Pye
tap2368@venus.tamu.edu