eight : Dictionary / Wörterbuch (BEOLINGUS, TU Chemnitz)

Proverbs, aphorisms, quotations (English)	by Linux fortune

I'm not a real movie star -- I've still got the same wife I started out with twenty-eight years ago. -- Will Rogers
Yeah, that's me, Tracer Bullet. I've got eight slugs in me. One's lead, the rest bourbon. The drink packs a wallop, and I pack a revolver. I'm a private eye. -- "Calvin & Hobbes"
Cats are smarter than dogs. You can't make eight cats pull a sled through the snow.
... in three to eight years we will have a machine with the general intelligence of an average human being ... The machine will begin to educate itself with fantastic speed. In a few months it will be at genius level and a few months after that its powers will be incalculable ... -- Marvin Minsky, LIFE Magazine, November 20, 1970
An apple every eight hours will keep three doctors away.
HOW TO PROVE IT, PART 4 proof by personal communication: 'Eight-dimensional colored cycle stripping is NP-complete [Karp, personal communication].' proof by reduction to the wrong problem: 'To see that infinite-dimensional colored cycle stripping is decidable, we reduce it to the halting problem.' proof by reference to inaccessible literature: The author cites a simple corollary of a theorem to be found in a privately circulated memoir of the Slovenian Philological Society, 1883. proof by importance: A large body of useful consequences all follow from the proposition in question.
"The Mets were great in 'sixty eight, The Cards were fine in 'sixty nine, But the Cubs will be heavenly in nineteen and seventy." -- Ernie Banks
"Let's not be too tough on our own ignorance. It's the thing that makes America great. If America weren't incomparably ignorant, how could we have tolerated the last eight years?" -- Frank Zappa, Feb 1, 1989
curtation, n.: The enforced compression of a string in the fixed-length field environment. The problem of fitting extremely variable-length strings such as names, addresses, and item descriptions into fixed-length records is no trivial matter. Neglect of the subtle art of curtation has probably alienated more people than any other aspect of data processing. You order Mozart's "Don Giovanni" from your record club, and they invoice you $24.95 for MOZ DONG. The witless mapping of the sublime onto the ridiculous! Equally puzzling is the curtation that produces the same eight characters, THE BEST, whether you order "The Best of Wagner", "The Best of Schubert", or "The Best of the Turds". Similarly, wine lovers buying from computerized wineries twirl their glasses, check their delivery notes, and inform their friends, "A rather innocent, possibly overtruncated CAB SAUV 69 TAL." The squeezing of fruit into 10 columns has yielded such memorable obscenities as COX OR PIP. The examples cited are real, and the curtational methodology which produced them is still with us. MOZ DONG n. Curtation of Don Giovanni by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and Lorenzo da Ponte, as performed by the computerized billing ensemble of the Internat'l Preview Society, Great Neck (sic), N.Y. -- Stan Kelly-Bootle, "The Devil's DP Dictionary"
The rules: (1) Thou shalt not worship other computer systems. (2) Thou shalt not impersonate Liberace or eat watermelon while sitting at the console keyboard. (3) Thou shalt not slap users on the face, nor staple their silly little card decks together. (4) Thou shalt not get physically involved with the computer system, especially if you're already married. (5) Thou shalt not use magnetic tapes as frisbees, nor use a disk pack as a stool to reach another disk pack. (6) Thou shalt not stare at the blinking lights for more than one eight hour shift. (7) Thou shalt not tell users that you accidentally destroyed their files/backup just to see the look on their little faces. (8) Thou shalt not enjoy cancelling a job. (9) Thou shalt not display firearms in the computer room. (10) Thou shalt not push buttons "just to see what happens".
Theorem: a cat has nine tails. Proof: No cat has eight tails. A cat has one tail more than no cat. Therefore, a cat has nine tails.
Ever wonder why fire engines are red? Because newspapers are read too. Two and Two is four. Four and four is eight. Eight and four is twelve. There are twelve inches in a ruler. Queen Mary was a ruler. Queen Mary was a ship. Ships sail the sea. There are fishes in the sea. Fishes have fins. The Finns fought the Russians. Russians are red. Fire engines are always rush'n. Therefore fire engines are red.
ELECTRIC JELL-O 2 boxes JELL-O brand gelatin 2 packages Knox brand unflavored gelatin 2 cups fruit (any variety) 2+ cups water 1/2 bottle Everclear brand grain alcohol Mix JELL-O and Knox gelatin into 2 cups of boiling water. Stir 'til fully dissolved. Pour hot mixture into a flat pan. (JELL-O molds won't work.) Stir in grain alcohol instead of usual cold water. Remove any congealing glops of slime. (Alcohol has an unusual effect on excess JELL-O.) Pour in fruit to desired taste, and to absorb any excess alcohol. Mix in some cold water to dilute the alcohol and make it easier to eat for the faint of heart. Refrigerate overnight to allow mixture to fully harden. (About 8-12 hours.) Cut into squares and enjoy! WARNING: Keep ingredients away from open flame. Not recommended for children under eight years of age.
Police: Good evening, are you the host? Host: No. Police: We've been getting complaints about this party. Host: About the drugs? Police: No. Host: About the guns, then? Is somebody complaining about the guns? Police: No, the noise. Host: Oh, the noise. Well that makes sense because there are no guns or drugs here. (An enormous explosion is heard in the background.) Or fireworks. Who's complaining about the noise? The neighbors? Police: No, the neighbors fled inland hours ago. Most of the recent complaints have come from Pittsburgh. Do you think you could ask the host to quiet things down? Host: No Problem. (At this point, a Volkswagon bug with primitive religious symbols drawn on the doors emerges from the living room and roars down the hall, past the police and onto the lawn, where it smashes into a tree. Eight guests tumble out onto the grass, moaning.) See? Things are starting to wind down.
After two or three weeks of this madness, you begin to feel As One with the man who said, "No news is good news." In twenty-eight papers, only the rarest kind of luck will turn up more than two or three articles of any interest... but even then the interest items are usually buried deep around paragraph 16 on the jump (or "Cont. on ...") page... The Post will have a story about Muskie making a speech in Iowa. The Star will say the same thing, and the Journal will say nothing at all. But the Times might have enough room on the jump page to include a line or so that says something like: "When he finished his speech, Muskie burst into tears and seized his campaign manager by the side of the neck. They grappled briefly, but the struggle was kicked apart by an oriental woman who seemed to be in control." Now that's good journalism. Totally objective; very active and straight to the point. -- Hunter S. Thompson, "Fear and Loathing '72"
To a Californian, all New Yorkers are cold; even in heat they rarely go above fifty-eight degrees. If you collapse on a street in New York, plan to spend a few days there. -- From "East vs. West: The War Between the Coasts
Besides the device, the box should contain: * Eight little rectangular snippets of paper that say "WARNING" * A plastic packet containing four 5/17 inch pilfer grommets and two club-ended 6/93 inch boxcar prawns. YOU WILL NEED TO SUPPLY: a matrix wrench and 60,000 feet of tram cable. IF ANYTHING IS DAMAGED OR MISSING: You IMMEDIATELY should turn to your spouse and say: "Margaret, you know why this country can't make a car that can get all the way through the drive-through at Burger King without a major transmission overhaul? Because nobody cares, that's why." WARNING: This is assuming your spouse's name is Margaret. -- Dave Barry, "Read This First!"
Why are you watching The washing machine? I love entertainment So long as it's clean. Professor Doberman: While the preceding poem is unarguably a change from the guarded pessimism of "The Hound of Heaven," it cannot be regarded as an unqualified improvement. Obscurity is of value only when it tends to clarify the poetic experience. As much as one is compelled to admire the poem's technique, one must question whether its byplay of complex literary allusions does not in fact distract from the unity of the whole. In the final analysis, one receives the distinct impression that the poem's length could safely have been reduced by a factor of eight or ten without sacrificing any of its meaning. It is to be hoped that further publication of this poem can be suspended pending a thorough investigation of its potential subversive implications.
"And finally, " said Max, quieting the audience down and putting on his solemn face, "finally I believe we have with us here tonight, a party of believers, very devout believers, from the Church of the Second Coming of the Great Prophet Zarquon. " ... "There they are, " said Max, "sitting there, patiently. He said he'd come again, and he's kept you waiting a long time, so let's hope he's hurrying fellas, because he's only got eight minutes left! "
Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the Western Spiral arm of the Galaxy lies a small unregarded yellow sun. Orbiting this at a distance of roughly ninety-eight million miles is an utterly insignificant little blue-green planet whose ape-descended life forms are so amazingly primitive that they still think digital watches are a pretty neat idea ... -- Douglas Adams, "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy"
I turned my air conditioner the other way around, and it got cold out. The weatherman said "I don't understand it. I was supposed to be 80 degrees today," and I said "Oops." In my house on the ceilings I have paintings of the rooms above... so I never have to go upstairs. I just bought a microwave fireplace... You can spend an evening in front of it in only eight minutes. -- Steven Wright
Q: How many Microsoft vice presidents does it take to change a light bulb? A: Eight. One to work the bulb, and seven to make sure that Microsoft gets $2 for every light bulb ever changed anywhere in the world.
All of you people should be ashamed of yourselves! MicroSoft is the reason there are so many people in my IS department, and the reason half of us have jobs. If Sun had won, we could probably get by with two people sleeping like the Maytag man. But because of MS, there are eight people gainfully employed as highly paid contracters, looking busy, feeding their kids. And the way it looks, I stand to be employed and wealthy for a long, long time. -- From Slashdot.org
Could You Get Fired for Visiting Slashdot? PADUCAH, KY -- Matt Johnson, an employee at Paradigm Shift Consulting, Inc., was fired from his programming job because of his addiction to Slashdot. Johnson typically visited Slashdot several times a day during working hours. Citing productivity problems, Johnson's boss gave him the pink slip and instituted a 'NoDot' policy -- no visiting Slashdot or related sites from the office, ever. Now Johnson has filed a lawsuit, claiming that his Slashdot addiction is protected by the Americans With Disabilities Act. Matt Johnson explained, "They discriminated against me because I'm a Dothead. Drug abuse and alcoholism are often considered handicaps. Why not Slashdot addiction?" Johnson's boss sees the situation differently. "Matt never got any work done. He was always visiting Slashdot, Freshmeat, or some other nerd website. And when he wasn't, he suffered withdrawl symptoms and couldn't think straight. A few months ago he spent eight consecutive hours posting comments in a KDE vs. GNOME flame war. I tried to offer assistance to overcome his addiction, but he refused. Enough is enough." The company's 'NoDot' policy has been under fire as well. One anonymous employee said, "We can't visit Slashdot because of Matt's addiction. This just sucks. I really don't see anything wrong with visiting Slashdot during breaks or after hours."
This telethon isn't just about helping disenfranchised geeks. We're also here for the betterment of mankind through our research into finding a Cure for Windows. Each day, millions of man-hours are wasted due to design flaws in Microsoft Windows. Each day, millions of dollars are sent by business and individuals like yourself into a huge black hole known as "Microsoft" for exorbitantly priced software products that should be free. But don't worry. We've almost found a Cure for Windows. Geeks worldwide have toiled endlessly for the past eight years working on a replacement operating system called Linux. It's almost ready. Now we need to convince the world to use our creation and eliminate the virus known as Windows. -- Excerpt from Eric S. Raymond's speech during the Geek Grok '99 telethon held in Silicon Valley
Throwing Windows Out The Window The Federal Bureau Of Missing Socks has banned the use of Microsoft Windows and Office on all employee computers. But don't get too excited; they aren't going to replace them with Linux. Instead, this government agency has decided to go back to using abucusses, slide rules, and manual typewriters. The banishment of Microsoft software stems from the agency's new policy against computer games. MS Office, which contains several games in the form of Easter Eggs, is now verboten on all agency computers. "Flight simulators, pinball games, magic eight balls... they all violate our policy," said the sub-adjunct administrator second-class. "So we can't use Office." Windows is forbidden for the same reason. "We've had way too many employees wasting time playing Solitaire," she said. "Unfortunately, Solitaire is an integral part of Windows -- Microsoft executives said so during the anti-trust trial. If Solitaire is removed, the operating system won't function properly. Therefore, we have no choice but to banish all Windows computers." The Bureau's Assistant Technology Consultant, Mr. Reginald "Red" Taype, asked, "Have you ever seen an abucus crash? Have you ever seen anybody have fun with a slide rule? Do adding machines contain undocumented easter eggs? No! That's why we're ditching our PCs."
Here I am, fifty-eight, and I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up. -- Peter Drucker
Largest Number of Driving Test Failures By April 1970 Mrs. Miriam Hargrave had failed her test thirty-nine times. In the eight preceding years she had received two hundred and twelve driving lessons at a cost of L300. She set the new record while driving triumphantly through a set of red traffic lights in Wakefield, Yorkshire. Disappointingly, she passed at the fortieth attempt (3 August 1970) but eight years later she showed some of her old magic when she was reported as saying that she still didn't like doing right-hand turns. -- Stephen Pile, "The Book of Heroic Failures"
Looking for a cool one after a long, dusty ride, the drifter strode into the saloon. As he made his way through the crowd to the bar, a man galloped through town screaming, "Big Mike's comin'! Run fer yer lives!" Suddenly, the saloon doors burst open. An enormous man, standing over eight feet tall and weighing an easy 400 pounds, rode in on a bull, using a rattlesnake for a whip. Grabbing the drifter by the arm and throwing him over the bar, the giant thundered, "Gimme a drink!" The terrified man handed over a bottle of whiskey, which the man guzzled in one gulp and then smashed on the bar. He then stood aghast as the man stuffed the broken bottle in his mouth, munched broken glass and smacked his lips with relish. "Can I, ah, uh, get you another, sir?" the drifter stammered. "Naw, I gotta git outa here, boy," the man grunted. "Big Mike's a-comin'."
By working faithfully eight hours a day, you may eventually get to be boss and work twelve. -- Robert Frost
If bankers can count, how come they have eight windows and only four tellers?
One fine day, the bus driver went to the bus garage, started his bus, and drove off along the route. No problems for the first few stops -- a few people got on, a few got off, and things went generally well. At the next stop, however, a big hulk of a guy got on. Six feet eight, built like a wrestler, arms hanging down to the ground. He glared at the driver and said, "Big John doesn't pay!" and sat down at the back. Did I mention that the driver was five feet three, thin, and basically meek? Well, he was. Naturally, he didn't argue with Big John, but he wasn't happy about it. Well, the next day the same thing happened -- Big John got on again, made a show of refusing to pay, and sat down. And the next day, and the one after that, and so forth. This grated on the bus driver, who started losing sleep over the way Big John was taking advantage of him. Finally he could stand it no longer. He signed up for bodybuilding courses, karate, judo, and all that good stuff. By the end of the summer, he had become quite strong; what's more, he felt really good about himself. So on the next Monday, when Big John once again got on the bus and said "Big John doesn't pay!," the driver stood up, glared back at the passenger, and screamed, "And why not?" With a surprised look on his face, Big John replied, "Big John has a bus pass."
Eight was also the Number of Bel-Shamharoth, which was why a sensible wizard would never mention the number if he could avoid it. Or you'll be eight alive, apprentices were jocularly warned. Bel-Shamharoth was especially attracted to dabblers in magic who, by being as it were beachcombers on the shores of the unnatural, were already half-enmeshed in his nets. Rincewind's room number in his hall of residence had been 7a. He hadn't been surprised. -- Terry Pratchett, "The Sending of Eight"