DeepWave

The original puzzles are published by Paul Sloan. The following puzzles are reproduced from his web page.

Questions:

1. The Elder Twin
One day Kerry celebrated her birthday. Two days later her older twin brother, Terry, celebrated his birthday. How come?

2. Manhole Covers
Why is it better to have round manhole covers than square ones? This is logical rather than lateral, but it is a good puzzle which can be solved by lateral thinking techniques. It is supposedly used by a very well-known software company as an interview question for prospective employees.

3. The Deadly Party
A man went to a party and drank some of the punch. He then left early. Everyone else at the party who drank the punch subsequently died of poisoning. Why did the man not die?

4. Heaven
A man died and went to Heaven. There were thousands of other people there. They were all naked and all looked as they did at the age of 21. He looked around to see if there was anyone he recognised. He saw a couple and he knew immediately that they were Adam and Eve. How did he know?

5. Trouble with Sons
A woman had two sons who were born on the same hour of the same day of the same year. But they were not twins. How could this be so?

6. The man in the Elevator
A man lives on the tenth floor of a building. Every day he takes the elevator to go down to the ground floor to go to work or to go shopping. When he returns he takes the elevator to the seventh floor and walks up the stairs to reach his apartment on the tenth floor. He hates walking so why does he do it?
This is probably the best known and most celebrated of all lateral thinking puzzles. It is a true classic. Although there are many possible solutions which fit the initial conditions, only the canonical answer is truly satisfying.

7. The Man in the Bar
A man walks into a bar and asks the barman for a glass of water. The barman pulls out a gun and points it at the man. The man says ‘Thank you’ and walks out. What happened?
This puzzle has claims to be the best of the genre. It is simple in its statement, absolutely baffling and yet with a completely satisfying solution. Most people struggle very hard to solve this one yet they like the answer when they hear it or have the satisfaction of figuring it out.

Solutions:

1. At the time she went into labor, the mother of the twins was travelling by boat. The older twin, Terry, was born first early on March 1st. The boat then crossed the International Date line (or anytime zone line) and Kerry, the younger twin, was born on February the 28th. In a leap year the younger twin celebrates her birthday two days before her older brother.

2. A square manhole cover can be turned and dropped down the diagonal of the manhole. A round manhole cannot be dropped down the manhole. So for safety and practicality, all manhole covers should be round.

3. The poison in the punch came from the ice cubes. When the man drank the punch the ice was fully frozen. Gradually it melted, poisoning the punch.

4. He recognized Adam and Eve as the only people without navels. Because they were not born of women, they had never had umbilical cords and therefore they never had navels. This one seems perfectly logical but it can sometimes spark fierce theological arguments!

5. They were two of a set of triplets (or quadruplets etc.) This simple little puzzle stumps many people. They try outlandish solutions involving test-tube babies or surrogate mothers. Why does the brain search for complex solutions when there is a much simpler one available?

6. The man is (of course) a dwarf. On rainy days, he uses his umbrella!

7. The man had hiccups. The barman recognized this from his speech and drew the gun in order to give him a shock. It worked and cured the hiccups - so the man no longer needed the water. This a simple puzzle to state but a difficult one to solve. It is a perfect example of a seemingly irrational and incongruous situation having a simple and complete explanation. Amazingly this classic puzzle seems to work in different cultures and languages.

Remember the first day of the first year of the first time in your life you started your journey to getting old,

Remember the roommates, the fears, the tears, the nerves, setting up the room, taking it apart and then rearranging it all over again,

Remember the first girl who caught your eye, that same girl who you will still remember as your first college crush,

Remember attempting to keep in touch with high school friends, and succeeding until you realized what a phone bill REALLY meant,

Remember promising to never change, but then realizing that’s an impossible promise to keep when high school has passed and you’ve moved on,

Remember those first friends you shared your fears with, who soon became acquaintances,

Remember those neighbors and classmates, who ended up becoming your closest friends,

Remember holding back the tears on those days when you just wanted to be home again, to feel safe again,

Remember those days you felt you couldn’t relate to ANYONE, you felt you had no place, and just calling home would make it worse,

Remember those bonding nights, when you never felt closer to a certain person, and how that closeness creates ties that never die,

Remember how you never realized the importance of family, until you didn’t see them everyday,

Remember telling friends the deepest secrets of your life, and knowing they’d remain secrets,

Remember the craziness of the dorm, getting sudden bursts of energy and looking for people, even total strangers, to harass,

Remember pulling all nighters, and never thinking they were as bad as they sounded until you actually lived through one,

Remember when your closet stretched throughout the whole floor and you never had to worry about a lack of clothes anymore,

Remember how over breaks you had the chance to step back and really see the friends you made and the memories shared, and you were satisfied,

Remember thinking HOW MUCH your life has changed in just months,

Remember that dream guy, you thought about so much, who when he finally opened his mouth, changed your opinion of him forever,

Remember how that girl you once lived for soon became a joke and an excuse for you and your friends to laugh at yourself,

Remember the times, never forget them, even the little ones can hold the greatest meaning,

Remember to never lose touch with those friends you’ve made here at college, because you have all changed and grown enormously together, and that is something very sacred to be shared,

Remember you are only here for a short while, the time flies before you realize it, so make it last, make it memorable, make it the best time of your life, and make the best memories that you can carry with you for the rest of your days,

Remember this doesn’t last forever so never let a day go by without living it to the fullest,

Remember to never let a day go by without a laugh,

Remember to love the ones you love, life isn’t forever,

Remember the laughs, let them echo in the back of your mind,

Remember to love your friends, whether they come, go, love you or hurt you, NEVER let anyone go,

And always remember, when you leave here in four years you are leaving with much more than you walked in here with.

 A BEST-selling study called The Bell Curve caused an uproar in the
 United States recently by claiming that whites average slightly higher
 IQ scores than blacks. Lost in the fine print was another finding:
 Chinese IQs blow them both out of the water — whites average 102,
 Chinese (in the United States) 110.

 Meanwhile, the state of California has repealed affirmative action in
 the selection of students for public colleges. Racial quotas are being
 tossed out and applicants will now be appraised according to academic
 merit, regardless of race.

 As whites and blacks resume their centuries-old feud, college
 officials caution that merit-based selection will actually hurt both
 races. The real winners are those docile but academically superior
 Asians, now free to run wild across American campuses.

 Are Asians just smarter? Or do they cheat on exams more? What’s the
 deal? As a public service, an Asian and a white American will now
 discuss the issue like civilized adults.

 By the way, if you can’t figure out which of us is Asian, there’s a
 very good chance that you’re white.

 Erik: What garbage — that is the most slanderous nonsense I’ve ever
 read. If I hadn’t written it, I’d sue!

 Adele: Tut, tut, little dumpling. I think your all-American propensity
 for being huffy and going into utter denial is surfacing.

 My father once convinced me that Caucasians couldn’t help being a
 little daffy because they were less evolved — heavy bone-structure,
 fur on the bottom, etc. The fact of the matter is, Asians just happen
 to be more disciplined in school.

 The popular Malaysian opinion is that American kids have no work
 ethic, no culture and no stern parental figures who believe in
 corporal punishment. You won’t believe how conducive a rotan (cane) is
 to academic excellence.

 E: Ah yes, the cane to the bottom. I’m afraid that wouldn’t work on
 whites — our fur would cushion the blow. Being less evolved has its
 benefits. As for having no culture, where do you think the Chia Pet
 was invented?

 A: The Chinese invent paper and printing, their arts originate before
 the birth of Christ, and your kind is taking credit for an
 alfalfa-sprouting clay dog?

 E: And now there’s Chia Head! And we offer lots of other cool exports
 – Malaysians just have poor taste and go nuts over the dumb stuff.

 I’d never heard of Tommy Page until I went to your country, where he
 had once been embraced like a national hero. I even know some
 Malaysians who think Yanni is a respect-worthy human being.

 A: Uh, okay. I thought you’d comment on the discrepancies of
 socialization vs genetics, but I think you’ve given Malaysians a more
 accurate depiction of American mentality than you know.

 E: I imagine a lot of Asians would like to believe they’re genetically
 superior. However, The Bell Curve seems to think that "genetically
 advanced" also means smaller sexual organs. So if you’re a
 conservative Asian fellow who wants to believe you’re born brighter,
 you’ve also got to accept that you’re somewhat less of a man.

 A: Genes, shmenes — Malaysians study hard because we’re brought up
 that way. We have tuition for almost every subject. Some of our
 parents got trashed daily for not memorizing their multiplication
 tables by the age of seven.

 Failure is a loss of face. If you fail, you will end up a car mechanic
 working from a cow-shed in Kajang and your relatives will tell stories
 about you to scare little children who don’t do their homework.

 The impression we get is that Americans are chubby and lazy. They get
 welfare, they get free crayons in grade school and they get to blame
 their teachers for bad grades. You don’t even have to whip Malaysian
 kids into graduating magna cum laude anymore. Most urban Chinese
 mothers use guilt — I think it’s ingrained in our culture.

 E: Believe it or not. American kids who don’t fear their parents don’t
 necessarily become pampered darlings like Tori Spelling. If we’re not
 forced to be academic soldiers, it’s because parents realize that
 grades don’t exclusively determine our worth as people. There’s more
 to growing up than memorizing tangent formulas.

 The most important skill is the ability to think for yourself and
 develop an individual character. Kids shouldn’t be little extensions
 of their parents. Instead, we should be like Pocahontas, and go
 wherever the wind takes us.

 I’m not interested in computer science and would be a miserable IT
 analyst, so it’s convenient that Mom and Dad don’t take this as a
 personal insult. In fact, they actually taught me the radical concept
 that passion for life is more important than achieving financial
 status or outdoing their friends’ children.

 A: Confucius say, all is relative, passion for life may be BMW — Auto
 Bavaria, much good.

 E: Wow, that was impressive. You Chinese are so profound.

 A: You white people are so funny. No, I was suggesting that passion
 for life can sometimes be equated with acquisition. You know, luxury
 condominiums, peach defuzzers, concubines.

 And yes, I know all about narrow-minded expectations; I grew up in a
 girl’s-school where they wanted two things of us: straight A’s and
 female subservience ("girls shouldn’t laugh loudly, it reflects loose
 morals, like the sort prostitutes have").

 I digress. Cultural differences aside, the point of the matter is that
 Asians average eight points higher in IQ tests.

 E: You have to remember that the cultural score is an average, taking
 all regions of the United States into account. Unfortunately, the
 brilliance of northeastern whites is hidden statistically by the large
 number of inbred southerners who count with their fingers and move
 their lips when they read.

 Equally unfair is the cultural bias of the IQ test itself. It’s only
 natural that the Chinese would score better than whites on a test
 dominated by questions about mah jong rules and chop suey recipes.
 Furthermore, before letting concepts of superiority go to your head,
 realize that whites are just playing possum, faking soft-headedness so
 other races will take us lightly. We’ll pretend to be dumb for a
 while, until the time is right for us to dominate the world with our
 genius. It’s all part of our top-secret plan, Tricky Operation
 Resembling Idiocy, or TORI. Don’t tell anyone.

 A: Yes, dear.

Around the corner I have a friend,
In this great city that has no end,
Yet the days go by and weeks rush on,
And before I know it, a year is gone.
And I never see my old friends face,
For life is a swift and terrible race,
He knows I like him just as well,
As in the days when I rang his bell.
And he rang mine
if, we were younger then,
And now we are busy, tired men.
Tired of playing a foolish game,
Tired of trying to make a name.
"Tommorow" I say "I will call on Jim"
"Just to show that I’m thinking of him."
But tommorow comes and tommorow goes,
And distance between us grows and grows.
Around the corner!- yet miles away,
"Here’s a telegram sir"
"Jim died today."
And thats what we get and deserve in the end.
Around the corner, a vanished friend.

CONTRARY to what many women believe, it’s fairly easy to develop a long-term, stable, intimate, and mutually fulfilling relationship with a guy. Of course this guy has to be a Labrador retriever. With human guys, it’s extremely difficult. This is because guys don’t really grasp what women mean by the term relationship.

Let’s say a guy named Roger is attracted to a woman named Elaine. He asks her out to a movie; she accepts; they have a pretty good time. A few nights later, he asks her out to dinner, and again they enjoy themselves. They continue to see each other regularly, and after a while neither one of them is seeing anybody else.

And then, one evening when they’re driving home, a thought occurs to Elaine, and, without really thinking, she says it aloud: "Do you realize that, as of tonight, we’ve been seeing each other for exactly six months?"

And then there is silence in the car. To Elaine, it seems like a very loud silence. She thinks to herself: Geez, I wonder if it bothers him that I said that. Maybe he’s been feeling confined by our relationship; maybe he thinks I’m trying to push him into some kind of obligation that he doesn’t want, or isn’t sure of.

And Roger is thinking: Gosh. Six months.

And Elaine is thinking: But, hey, I’m not so sure I want this kind of relationship, either. Sometimes I wish I had a little more space, so I’d have time to think about whether I really want us to keep going the way we are, moving steadily toward . . . I mean, where are we going? Are we just going to keep seeing each other at this level of intimacy? Are we heading toward marriage? Toward children? Toward a lifetime together? Am I ready for that level of commitment? Do I really even know this person?

And Roger is thinking: . . . so that means it was . . . let’s see . . . February when we started going out, which was right after I had the car at the dealer’s, which means . . . lemme check the odometer . . . Whoa! I am way overdue for an oil change here.

And Elaine is thinking: He’s upset. I can see it on his face. Maybe I’m reading this completely wrong. Maybe he wants more from our relationship, more intimacy, more commitment; maybe he has sensed — even before I sensed it — that I was feeling some reservations. Yes, I bet that’s it. That’s why he’s so reluctant to say anything about his own feelings. He’s afraid of being rejected.

And Roger is thinking: And I’m gonna have them look at the transmission again. I don’t care what those morons say, it’s still not shifting right. And they better not try to blame it on the cold weather this time. What cold weather? It’s 87 degrees out, and this thing is shifting like a goddamn garbage truck, and I paid those incompetent thieves $600.

COMMUNICATIONS GAP
And Elaine is thinking: He’s angry. And I don’t blame him. I’d be angry, too. God, I feel so guilty, putting him through this, but I can’t help the way I feel. I’m just not sure.

And Roger is thinking: They’ll probably say it’s only a 90-day warranty. That’s exactly what they’re gonna say, the scumballs.

And Elaine is thinking: Maybe I’m just too idealistic, waiting for a knight to come riding up on his white horse, when I’m sitting right next to a perfectly good person, a person I enjoy being with, a person I truly do care about, a person who seems to truly care about me. A person who is in pain because of my self-centered, schoolgirl romantic fantasy.

And Roger is thinking: Warranty? They want a warranty? I’ll give them a goddamn warranty. I’ll take their warranty and stick it right up their . .

"Roger," Elaine says aloud.

"What?" says Roger, startled.

"Please don’t torture yourself like this," she says, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. "Maybe I should never have . . . Oh God, I feel so . . ." (She breaks down, sobbing.)

"What?" says Roger.

"I’m such a fool," Elaine sobs. "I mean, I know there’s no knight. I really know that. It’s silly. There’s no knight, and there’s no horse."

"There’s no horse?" says Roger.

"You think I’m a fool, don’t you?" Elaine says.

"No!" says Roger, glad to finally know the correct answer.

"It’s just that . . . It’s that I . . . I need some time," Elaine says.

(There is a 15-second pause while Roger, thinking as fast as he can, tries to come up with a safe response. Finally he comes up with one that he thinks might work.)

"Yes," he says.

A BEFUDDLED BEAU
(Elaine, deeply moved, touches his hand.)

"Oh, Roger, do you really feel that way?" she says.

"What way?" says Roger.

"That way about time," says Elaine.

"Oh," says Roger. "Yes."

(Elaine turns to face him and gazes deeply into his eyes, causing him to become very nervous about what she might say next, especially if it involves a horse. At last she speaks.)

"Thank you, Roger," she says.

"Thank you," says Roger.

Then he takes her home, and she lies on her bed, a conflicted, tortured soul, and weeps until dawn, whereas when Roger gets back to his place, he opens a bag of Doritos, turns on the TV, and immediately becomes deeply involved in a rerun of a tennis match between two Czechoslovakians he never heard of. A tiny voice in the far recesses of his mind tells him that something major was going on back there in the car, but he is pretty sure there is no way he would ever understand what, and so he figures it’s better if he doesn’t think about it. (This is also Roger’s policy regarding world hunger.)

IT’S ANALYSIS TIME
The next day Elaine will call her closest friend, or perhaps two of them, and they will talk about this situation for six straight hours. In painstaking detail, they will analyze everything she said and everything he said, going over it time and time again, exploring every word, expression, and gesture for nuances of meaning, considering every possible ramification. They will continue to discuss this subject, off and on, for weeks, maybe months, never reaching any definite conclusions, but never getting bored with it, either.

Meanwhile, Roger, while playing racquetball one day with a mutual friend of his and Elaine’s, will pause just before serving, frown, and say: "Norm, did Elaine ever own a horse?"

We’re not talking about different wavelengths here.. We’re talking about different planets, in completely different solar systems. Elaine cannot communicate meaningfully with Roger about their relationship any more than she can meaningfully play chess with a duck. Because the sum total of Roger’s thinking on this particular topic is as follows:

Huh?

But the point I’m trying to make is that, if you’re a woman, and you want to have a successful relationship with a guy, the No. 1 tip to remember is:

1. Never assume that the guy understands that you and he have a relationship.

The guy will not realize this on his own. You have to plant the idea in his brain by constantly making subtle references to it in your everyday conversation, such as:

– "Roger, would you mind passing me a Sweet ‘n’ Low, inasmuch as we have a relationship?"

– "Wake up, Roger! There’s a prowler in the den and we have a relationship! You and I do, I mean."

– "Good News, Roger! The gynecologist says we’re going to have our fourth child, which will serve as yet another indication that we have a relationship!"

– "Roger, inasmuch as this plane is crashing and we probably have only about a minute to live, I want you to know that we’ve had a wonderful 53 years of marriage together, which clearly constitutes a relationship."

Never let up, women. Pound away relentlessly at this concept, and eventually it will start to penetrate the guy’s brain. Some day he might even start thinking about it on his own. He’ll be talking with some other guys about women, and, out of the blue, he’ll say, "Elaine and I, we have, ummm . . . We have, ahhh . . . We . . . We have this thing."

And he will sincerely mean it.

The next relationship-enhancement tip is:

2. Do not expect the guy to make a hasty commitment.

By "hasty," I mean, "within your lifetime." Guys are extremely reluctant to make commitments. This is because they never feel ready.

"I’m sorry," guys are always telling women, "but I’m just not ready to make a commitment." Guys are in a permanent state of nonreadiness. If guys were turkey breasts, you could put them in a 350-degree oven on July Fourth, and they still wouldn’t be done in time for Thanksgiving.

   
Alice was reading the message on her monitor and beginning to suspect that everything was not as it should be. "Program too big to fit in memory," it read.

"Curiouser and curiouser," she said, "All I did was load fourteen TSRs before starting my word processor.With four megabytes, I wish I could use more than 640K."

"At that moment, a small white consultant (a very white consultant) ran across the room. "Oh my coat and necktie," he said, "I’m going to be late for my appointment.And at one fifty an hour, too."Before Alice could say anything, he leaped into her monitor and disappeared behind her operating system.

Alice thought that she had never seen anyone leap into a monitor before; and certainly not go clean through the operating system.But then, she had been told that DOS was very shallow.Without hesitating a moment, she leaped in after him.

She found herself in a shiny corridor.Not knowing what else to do, she began walking.Turning a corner, she found herself facing two fat little men, each with an arm round the other’s neck.One had "POS" embroidered on his collar, and the "NEG".

"I know," said Alice, "you two are a transistor."

"Yes," said Positive.

"Can you help me? asked Alice.

"No," said Negative.

"I’m looking for a white consultant." Alice pointed in the direction she had been walking."Did he go this way?" she asked.

"No," said Negative.

She pointed the other way.

"Yes," said Positive.

Soon Alice came upon a large brown table.The Consultant was there, as was an apparently Mad Hacker, and several creatures that Alice did not recognize.In one corner sat a Dormouse fast asleep. Over the table was a large sign that read "UNIX Conference."

Everyone except the Dormouse was holding a paper cup, from which they were sampling what appeared to be custard."Wrong flavor," they all declared as they passed the cup the cup to the creature on their right and graciously took the one being offered on their left.Alice watched them repeat this ritual three or four times before she approached and sat down.

Immediately, a large toad leaped into her lap and looked at her as if it wanted to be loved."Grep," it exclaimed.

"Don’t mind him," explained the Mad Hacker."He’s just looking for some string."

"Nroff?" asked the Frog.

The Mad Hacker handed Alice a cup of custard-like substance and a spoon."Here," he said, "what do you think of this?"

"It looks lovely," said Alice, "very sweet." She tried a spoonful."Yuck!" she cried."It’s awful.What is it?"

"Oh just another graphic interface for UNIX," answered the Hacker.

Alice pointed to the sleeping Dormouse."Who’s he?" she asked.

"That’s OS Too," explained the Hacker."We’ve pretty much given up on waking him.

"Just than, a large, Blue Elephant sitting next to the Dormouse stood up."Ladies and gentlemen," he trumpeted pompously, "as the largest creature here, I feel impelled to state that we must take an Open Look at…"

A young Job Sparrow on the other side of the table stood up angrily.The Elephant noticed and changed his speech
accordingly. "…what our NextStep will be.

"Half the creatures bowed in respect while the other half snickered quietly to themselves.Just then, OS Too fell over in his sleep, crashing into the Elephant and taking him down with him.No one seemed a bit surprised.

"What we need," declared a Sun Bear as he lapped up custard with his long tongue, "is a flavor that goes down like the Macintosh."

"Suddenly, the White Consultant began jumping up and down as his face got red."No, no, no! he screamed."No one pays one fifty an hour to Macintosh consultants!"

"Awk," said the Frog.

"Users," explained the Sun Bear, "want an easy interface that they will not have to learn."

"Users?" cried the Consultant in disbelief. "Users?! You mean secretaries, accountants, architects. Manual laborers!"

"Well," responded the Sun Bear, "we’ve got to do something to make them want to switch to UNIX."

"Do you think," said a Woodpecker who had been busy making a hole in the table, "that there might be a problem with the name ‘UNIX?’ I mean, it does sort of suggest being less than a man."

"Maybe we should try another name, " suggested the Job Sparrow, "like Brut, or Rambo."

"Penix," suggested a Penguin.

"Mount," said the Frog, "spawn."

Alice slapped him. "Nice?" he asked.

"But then again," suggested the Woodpecker, "what about the shrinkwrap issue?"

Suddenly, everyone leaped up and started dashing about, waving their hands in the air and screaming.Just as suddenly, they all sat down again.

"Now that that’s settled," said the Woodpecker, "let’s go back to tasting flavors."

Everyone at the table sampled a new cup of custard. "Wrong flavor," they all declared as they passed the cup to the creature on their right and took the one being offered on their left.

Totally confused, Alice got up and left. After she had been walking away, she heard a familiar voice behind her.

"Rem," is said, "edlin."

Alice turned and saw the Frog. She smiled. "Those are queer sounding words," she said, "but at least I know what they mean."

"Chkdsk," said the Frog.

*** July 17 1994. Bowman Oddy Computer Cluster.
Here I am sitting in front of a Macintosh IIci. I am watching out just in case
anyone witness me sitting in front of a Mac. I am an anti MAC but what the heck
there’s no PC around. PC users will forgive me …. I hope.

I met God the other day, he’s such a funny guy. He creates people for a living.
I mean, who would do such a thing. The worst part is he does it voluntarily,
"Come on be real now, Everyone needs money to survive", I advised him.
"Everything is not money my son.", God replied. "Yeah Sure!, so what are we
doing here then. We are just money oriented people, no money no people."."Well,
you are just a program which I wrote years ago", he said to me with an ego.

"Program? I am a program?", I was stunned. "Yeah a program that self modifies,
you got to know C++ with some knowledge of AI to do it.",he said affirmatively.
It seems that his ancestors created the Galaxies and made it available through
the standard package that came with C++. "LISP would be ideal, but I hate
programming the galaxy thing all over again, you know what I am saying ..",
sounded like as it if came from Snoop Doggy Dog."Besides C++ allows me to
use object-orientated programming.", he said as if OOP runs in his blood.
"How big is it?", I asked with curiosity.

"Only 4K worth of codes!", he spoke while picking up a file from his drawer.
"This is the code", he continued. It was only about 5 pages long."I run on
a five page code and that’s it?", I thought to myself."Of course it is only
five pages long, its in C++ and besides its a self modifying code …. I
am sure yours is as big as 4GB now ….", he anwswered as if he read my mind.
He took back his code and said, "I worked hard for this, my lecturer made me go
through hell for this. My final project was to create planets on Milkyway
and put life on all the planets.I pleaded with my professor to reduce the work
load, but he refused. So here I am still creating life", he versed with
frustration. Gods beeper beeped .."beep, beep ..".

He pushed the button on the beeper, and ‘zoom’ came out a PC which set on the
desk. It had ‘Intel Inside’ written on it. I stood up with confidence and
asked him, "Is this yours?"."Yup!", he anwered with such pride. "Excuse me
for a while.", he asked permission not to be disturbed. After a while he
screamed, "YES! YES! My program works …I created a life in MARS", he sounded
as excited as I would be when I m done with my program. "Gotta, go!", he said,
zipped himself and vanished away. He left his PC behind. As I stared at the
monitor, there was this piece of code on one of the opened windows:

// God
// Project Mars vers 1.0
// Date: Zema 234 1299966734
// Professor: Sivan
// Class:712, Galaxies and life.
//
// This program is intended to create life. It uses the previously declared
// class ‘HumanBeing, which is included from ‘classEarth.h’. …..
.
.
//

#include
#include "classEarth.h"
#include "atmosphere.h"
#include "life.h"
.
.
.
class MarsBeing
{
FLESH Hand, Leg, Body, Head;
BLOOD Veins, Arteries, Cappilaries;
VISION Eyes, MataKumpuan;
.
.
public:
BEING( FLESH *, BLOOD *, VISION *, ….); //Constuctor
REPLICA( BEING &); // copied form another object
~BEING(); // destructor

void *operator new(unsigned);
.
.
.
};

I quit, I am not that good to understand this crap yet. I am glad my projects
are not as bad …. Thank Goodness.

*** July 18 1994. Bowman Oddy Computer Cluster.
Okay! So I used a MAC what’s the big deal …..

This is an actual essay written by a college applicant. The author, Hugh Gallaghere, now attends NYU.

3A. ESSAY: IN ORDER FOR THE ADMISSIONS STAFF OF OUR COLLEGE TO GET TO KNOW YOU, THE APPLICANT, BETTER, WE ASK THAT YOU ANSWER THE FOLLOWING QUESTION:

ARE THERE ANY SIGNIFICANT EXPERIENCES YOU HAVE HAD, OR ACCOMPLISHMENTS YOU HAVE REALIZED, THAT HAVE HELPED TO DEFINE YOU AS A PERSON?

I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice. I have been known to remodel train stations on my lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention. I translate ethnic slurs for Cuban refugees. I write award-winning operas, I manage time efficiently. Occasionally, I tread water for three days in a row.

I woo women with my sensuous and godlike trombone playing, I can pilot bicycles up severe inclines with unflagging speed, and I cook Thirty-Minute Brownies in twenty minutes. I am an expert in stucco, a veteran of love, and an outlaw in Peru.

Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon Basin from a horde of ferocious army ants. I play bluegrass cello, I was scouted by the Mets, I am the subject of numerous documentaries. When I’m bored, I build large suspension bridges in my yard. I enjoy urban hang gliding. On Wednesdays, after school, I repair electrical appliances free of charge.

I am an abstract artist, a concrete analyst, and a ruthless bookie. Critics worldwide swoon over my original line of corduroy evening wear. I don’t perspire. I am a private citizen, yet I receive fan mail. I have been caller number nine and have won the weekend passes. Last summer I toured New Jersey with a traveling centrifugal-force demonstration. I bat .400. My deft floral arrangements have earned me fame in international botany circles. Children trust me.

I can hurl tennis rackets at small moving objects with deadly accuracy. I once read Paradise Lost, Moby Dick, and David Copperfield in one day and still had time to refurbish an entire dining room that evening. I know the exact location of every food item in the supermarket. I have performed several covert operations for the CIA. I sleep once a week; when I do sleep, I sleep in a chair. While on vacation in Canada, I successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. The laws of physics do not apply to me.

I balance, I weave, I dodge, I frolic, and my bills are all paid. On weekends, to let off steam, I participate in full-contact origami. Years ago I discovered the meaning of life but forgot to write it down. I have made extraordinary four course meals using only a mouli and a toaster oven. I breed prize-winning clams. I have won bullfights in San Juan, cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka, and spelling bees at the Kremlin. I have played Hamlet, I have performed open-heart surgery, and I have spoken with Elvis.

But I have not yet gone to college.

For the first bug of Christmas, my manager said to me
     See if they can do it again.
   
For the second bug of Christmas, my manager said to me
     Ask them how they did it and
     See if they can do it again.
   
For the third bug of Christmas, my manager said to me
     Try to reproduce it
     Ask them how they did it and
     See if they can do it again
   
For the fourth bug of Christmas, my manager said to me
     Run with the debugger
     Try to reproduce it
     Ask them how they did it and
     See if they can do it again
   
For the fifth bug of Christmas, my manager said to me
     Ask for a dump
     Run with the debugger
     Try to reproduce it
     Ask them how they did it and
     See if they can do it again
   
For the sixth bug of Christmas, my manager said to me
     Reinstall the software
     Ask for a dump
     Run the debugger
     Try to reproduce it
     Ask them how they did it and
     See if they can do it again
   
For the seventh bug of Christmas, my manager said to me
     Say they need a upgrade
     Reinstall the software
     Ask for a dump
     Run with the debugger
     Try to reproduce it
     Ask them how they did it and
     See if they can do it again
   
For the eight bug of Christmas, my manager said to me
     Find a way around it
     say they need an upgrade
     Reinstall the software
     Ask for a dump
     Run with the debugger
     Try to reproduce it
     Ask them how they did it and
     See if they can do it again
   
For the ninth bug of Christmas, my manager said to me
     Blame it on the hardware
     Find a way around it
     Say they need an upgrade
     Reinstall the software
     Ask for a dump
     Run with the debugger
     Try to reproduce it
     Ask them how they did it and
     See if they can doe it again
   
For the tenth day of Christmas, my manager said to me
     Change the documentation
     Blame it on the hardware
     Find a way around it
     Say they need an upgrade
     Reinstall the software
     Ask for a dump
     Run with the debugger
     Try to reproduce it
     Ask them how they did it and
     See if they can do it again
   
For the eleventh bug of Christmas, my manager said to me
     Say it’s not supported
     Change the documentation
     Blame it on the hardware
     Find a way around it
     Say they need an upgrade
     Reinstall the software
     Ask for a dump
     Run with the debugger
     Try to reproduce it
     Ask them how they did it and
     See if they can do it again
   
For the twelfth bug of Christmas, my manager said to me
     Tell them it’s a feature
     Say it’s not supported
     Change the documentation
     Blame it on the hardware
     Find a way around it
     Say they need an upgrade
     Reinstall the software
     Ask for a dump
     Run with the debugger
     Try to reproduce it
     Ask them how they did it and
     See if they can do it again

Long ago, in the days when all disks flopped in the breeze and the writing of words was on a star, the Blue Giant dug for the people the Pea Sea. But he needed a creature who could sail the waters, and would need for support but few rams.

So the Gateskeeper, who was said to be both micro and soft, fashioned a Dosfish, who was small and spry, and could swim the narrow sixteen-bit channel. But the Dosfish was not bright, and could be taught few new tricks. His alphabet had no A’s, B’s, or Q’s, but a mere 640 K’s, and the size of his file cabinet was limited by his own fat.

At first the people loved the Dosfish, for he was the only one who could swim the Pea Sea. But the people soon grew tired of commanding his line, and complained that he could be neither dragged nor dropped. "Forsooth," they cried. "the Dosfish can only do one job at a time, and of names, he knows only eight and three." And many of them left the Pea Sea for good, and went off in search of the Magic Apple.

Although many went, far more stayed, because admittance to the Pea Sea was cheap. So the Gateskeeper studied the Magic Apple, and rested awhile in the Parc of Xer-Ox, and he made a Window that could ride on the Dosfish and do its thinking for it. But the Window was slow, and it would break when the Dosfish got confused. So most people contented themselves with the Dosfish.

Now it came to pass that the Blue Giant came upon the Gateskeeper, and spoke thus: "Come, let us make of ourselves something greater than the Dosfish." The Blue Giant seemed like a humbug, so they called the new creature OZ II.

Now Oz II was smarter than the Dosfish, as most things are. It could drag and drop, and could keep files without becoming fat. But the people cared for it not. So the Blue Giant and the Gateskeeper promised another OZ II, to be called Oz II Too, that could swim the fast new 32-bit wide Pea Sea.

Then lo, a strange miracle occurred. Although the Window that rode on the Dosfish was slow, it was pretty, and the third Window was the prettiest of all. And the people began to like the third Window, and to use it. So the Gateskeeper turned to the Blue Giant and said, "Fie on thee, for I need thee not. Keep thy OZ II Too, and I shall make of my Window an Entity that will not need the Dosfish, and will swim in the 32-bit Pea Sea."

Years passed, and the workshops of the Gateskeeper and the Blue Giant were overrun by insects. And the people went on using their Dosfish with a Window; even though the Dosfish would from time to time become confused and die, it could always be revived with three fingers.

Then there came a day when the Blue Giant let forth his OZ II Too onto the world. The Oz II Too was indeed mighty, and awesome, and required a great ram, and the world was changed not a whit. For the people said, "It is indeed great, but we see little application for it." And they were doubtful, because the Blue Giant had met with the Magic Apple, and together they were fashioning a Taligent, and the Taligent was made of objects, and was most pink.

Now the Gateskeeper had grown ambitious, and as he had been ambitious before he grew, he was now more ambitious still. So he protected his Window Entity with great security, and made its net work both in serving and with peers. And the Entity would swim, not only in the Pea Sea, but in the Oceans of Great Risk. "Yea," the Gateskeeper declared, "though my entity will require a greater ram than Oz II Too, it will be more powerful than a world of Eunuchs."

And so the Gateskeeper prepared to unleash his Entity to the world, in all but two cities. For he promised that a greater Window, a greater Entity, and even a greater Dosfish would appear one day in Chicago and Cairo, and it too would be built of objects.

Now the Eunuchs who lived in the Oceans of Great Risk, and who scorned the Pea Sea, began to look upon their world with fear. For the Pea Sea had grown, and great ships were sailing in it, the Entity was about to invade their oceans, and it was rumored that files would be named in letters greater than eight. And the Eunuchs looked upon the Pea Sea, and many of them thought to immigrate.

Within the Oceans of Great Risk were many Sun Worshippers, and they wanted to excel, and make their words perfect, and do their jobs as easy as one-two-three. And what’s more, many of them no longer wanted to pay for the Risk. So the Sun Lord went to the Pea Sea, and got himself eighty-sixed.

And taking the next step was He of the NextStep, who had given up building his boxes of black. And he proclaimed loudly that he could help anyone make wondrous soft wares, then admitted meekly that only those who know him could use those wares, and he was made of objects, and required the biggest ram of all.

And the people looked out upon the Pea Sea, and they were sore amazed. And sore confused. And sore sore. And that is why, to this day, Ozes, Entities, and Eunuchs battle on the shores of the Pea Sea, but the people still travel on the simple Dosfish.