Reply by email, filling out this form and emailing it to me.
Trimming off the rest of this post is unnecessary.
I will guarantee anonymity except in cases of blatant abuse.
I will achieve anonymity by tallying the results in
uncorrelated tabulations and then deleting the emails.
(I know this loses interesting correlation data, but if
resondents want anonymity it's hard to avoid.)
I know that this anonymity promise depends on trust and that
you have no particular reason to trust me. Someday, I hope.
I will post results Saturday.
xxxxxxxx beginning of survey xxxxxxxx
yes( ) ( )no Should RoadRunner be subjected to some kind of UDP?
yes( ) ( )no ... active UDP (cancels) ?
yes( ) ( )no ... passive UDP (drop messages) ?
yes( ) ( )no ... all-groups UDP? (as opposed to specific groups)
yes( ) ( )no Are you a Usenet sysadmin? How big:_ How long:_
yes( ) ( )no Should another server be subjected to UDP? Who:_
yes( ) ( )no Should UDPs be used more often?
yes( ) ( )no Should UDPs be used less often?
yes( ) ( )no Would you have answered this survey without anonymity?
xxxxxxxx end of survey xxxxxxxx
the feet of the
soldiers, now standing over me. "Ah!" said the corporal in
charge, "You must be a good Russian and a native here,
otherwise the dogs would have torn you to pieces. They
are trained for just that. Watch awhile and you will
They walked away, dragging the reluctant dogs, who
wanted to stay with me. A few minutes later the dogs
leaped urgently to their feet and dashed off to the under-
growth at the side of the road. There were horrible screams
suddenly choked off by frothy bubbling. A rustling behind
me, and as I turned, a bloody hand, bitten off at the wrist,
was dropped at my feet while the dog stood there wagging
"Comrade," said the corporal, strolling over, "you must
be loyal indeed for Serge to do that. We are going to our
base at Kraskino. You are on the move, do you want a ride
that far with five dead bodies?"
"Yes, Comrade corporal, I should be much obliged," I
Leading the way, with the dogs walking beside me wag-
ging their tails, he took me to a half track vehicle with a
trailer attached. From one corner of the trailer a thin
stream of blood ran to splash messily on the ground.
Casually glancing in at the bodies piled there, he looked
more intently at the feeble struggle of a dying man. Pull-
ing out his revolver he shot him in the head, then re-
holstered his gun and walked off to the half track without
a backward glance.
I was given a seat on the back of the half track. The
soldiers were in a good mood, boasting that no foreigner
ever crossed the Border when they were on duty, telling
me that their platoon held the Red Star award for com-