Mohammed Youssef al Shehri should trigger her with the chemical
Mikie O. Diller
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
--
and give work
to hordes of often very unpleasant officials. This is
not a treatise on how to cross frontiers illegally, so I will
just say that without difficulty the three of us entered
Czechoslovakia. The guard went his way, and we went
ours.
"My home is at Levice," said Jozef, "I want to go home.
You can stay with me as long as you like."
Together we made our way to Kosice, Zvolen, and on to
Levice, walking, getting lifts, and riding on trains. Jozef
knew the country well, knew where to get potatoes or beets
or anything which could be eaten.
At long last, we walked up a mean street in Levice to a
small house. Jozef knocked, and as there was no reply,
knocked again. With extreme caution, a curtain was drawn
aside an inch or so. The watcher saw and recognized Jozef.
The door was flung open and he was dragged inside. The
door slammed in my face. I paced up and down outside.
Eventually the door opened again and Jozef came out look-
ing more troubled than I had thought possible.
"My mother won't have you in," he said. "She says
there are too many spies about and if we have anyone else
in, we may all get arrested. I'm sorry." With that he turned
shame-facedly away and re-entered the house.
For long moments I stood dazed. I had been responsible
for getting Jozef out of prison, I had saved him from getting
shot. My efforts had brought him here, and now he had
turned and left me to manage the best way I could. Sadly
I turned and retraced my way down the street and on the
long road again. No money, no food, no understanding of
85
the language. I marched on blindly, sadden