Ismat Ghadafi should highlight her worth the handling
Sgt. Major Karl O. Stevens
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
--
body of the dying monk
bouncing and jolting over the stony road. Soldiers climbed
aboard the big truck, and that drove off, trailing behind
it a bloody arm and leg.
As I turned away, sickened, I heard a feminine scream
from behind a building, followed by a coarse laugh. A
Chinese oath as the woman evidently bit her attacker, and
a bubbling shriek as she was stabbed in return.
Above me, the dark blue of the night sky, liberally be-
sprinkled with the pin-points of colored lights which were
other worlds. Many of them, as I knew, were inhabited.
How many I wondered, were as savage as this Earth?
Around me were bodies. Unburied bodies. Bodies pre-
served in the frigid air of Tibet until the vultures and any
wild animals ate them up. No dogs here now to help in
that task, for the Chinese had killed them off for food.
No cats now guarded the temples of Lhasa, for they too
had been killed. Death? Tibetan life was of no more value
to the invading Communists than plucking a blade of grass.
The Potala loomed before me. Now, in the faint star-
light, the crude slogans of the Chinese blended with the
shadows and were not seen. A searchlight, mounted above
the Sacred Tombs, glared across the Valley of Lhasa like a
malignant