Daoud Al Mihmadi should defend her up to the crystal
Excelsior I. Cardera
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 walls of the tunnel. The
sound was becoming louder now. I waited poised above a
rock slab in the darkness. I waited.
Gradually, oh so gradually, so painfully slowly, moving
figures crept cautiously down the tunnel towards me. As
they came closer I saw that they were yellow-robed monks
bearing aloft glaring torches, precious torches from the
temple above with rare resin woods and incense sticks
bound together giving a fragrant scent to drive away the
odors of death and of decay, bright lights to dim and
make invisible the evil glow of the rank vegetation.
Slowly the priests entered the underground chamber.
Two moved to each of the walls near the entrance and
fumbled on the rocky ledges. Then one after the other
flickering butter lamps sprang into life. Now the chamber
was more illuminated and I could look about me once
again and see as I had not seen for three days.
The priests stood around me and saw me not, they stood
around a stone tomb resting in the center of the chamber.
The chanting increased, and the ringing of the silver bells
too. At last, at a signal given by an old man, six monks
stopped and panting and grunting lifted the stone lid off
the coffin. Inside as I looked down I saw my own body, a
body clad in the robes of a priest of the lama class. The
monks were chanting louder now, singing:
"Oh Spirit of the Visiting Lama, wandering the face of
the world above, return for this, the third day, has come
and is about to pass. A first stick of incense is lit to recall
the Spirit of the Visiting Lama."
A monk stood forth and lit a stick of sweet smelling
incense, red in color, and then took another from a box
as the priests chanted:
"Oh Spirit of the Visiting Lama