evening : Dictionary / Wörterbuch (BEOLINGUS, TU Chemnitz)

Proverbs, aphorisms, quotations (English)	by Linux fortune

For myself, I can only say that I am astonished and somewhat terrified at the results of this evening's experiments. Astonished at the wonderful power you have developed, and terrified at the thought that so much hideous and bad music may be put on record forever. -- Sir Arthur Sullivan, message to Edison, 1888
I've touch'd the highest point of all my greatness; And from that full meridian of my glory I haste now to my setting. I shall fall, Like a bright exhalation in the evening And no man see me more. -- Shakespeare
Civilization, as we know it, will end sometime this evening. See SYSNOTE tomorrow for more information.
Good evening, gentlemen. I am a HAL 9000 computer. I became operational at the HAL plant in Urbana, Illinois, on January 11th, nineteen hundred ninety-five. My supervisor was Mr. Langley, and he taught me to sing a song. If you would like, I could sing it for you.
In the beginning there was data. The data was without form and null, and darkness was upon the face of the console; and the Spirit of IBM was moving over the face of the market. And DEC said, "Let there be registers"; and there were registers. And DEC saw that they carried; and DEC separated the data from the instructions. DEC called the data Stack, and the instructions they called Code. And there was evening and there was morning, one interrupt. -- Rico Tudor, "The Story of Creation or, The Myth of Urk"
`Lasu' Releases SAG 0.3 -- Freeware Book Takes Paves For New World Order by staff writers ... The central Superhighway site called ``sunsite.unc.edu'' collapsed in the morning before the release. News about the release had been leaked by a German hacker group, Harmonious Hardware Hackers, who had cracked into the author's computer earlier in the week. They had got the release date wrong by one day, and caused dozens of eager fans to connect to the sunsite computer at the wrong time. ``No computer can handle that kind of stress,'' explained the mourning sunsite manager, Erik Troan. ``The spinning disks made the whole computer jump, and finally it crashed through the floor to the basement.'' Luckily, repairs were swift and the computer was working again the same evening. ``Thank God we were able to buy enough needles and thread and patch it together without major problems.'' The site has also installed a new throttle on the network pipe, allowing at most four clients at the same time, thus making a new crash less likely. ``The book is now in our Incoming folder'', says Troan, ``and you're all welcome to come and get it.'' -- Lars Wirzenius <wirzeniu@cs.helsinki.fi> [comp.os.linux.announce]
THE STORY OF CREATION or THE MYTH OF URK In the beginning there was data. The data was without form and null, and darkness was upon the face of the console; and the Spirit of IBM was moving over the face of the market. And DEC said, "Let there be registers;" and there were registers. And DEC saw that they carried; and DEC separated the data from the instructions. DEC called the data Stack, and the instructions they called Code. And there was evening and there was morning, one interrupt ... -- Rico Tudor
May you have warm words on a cold evening, a full mooon on a dark night, and a smooth road all the way to your door.
One evening Mr. Rudolph Block, of New York, found himself seated at dinner alongside Mr. Percival Pollard, the distinguished critic. "Mr. Pollard," said he, "my book, _The Biography of a Dead Cow_, is published anonymously, but you can hardly be ignorant of its authorship. Yet in reviewing it you speak of it as the work of the Idiot of the Century. Do you think that fair criticism?" "I am very sorry, sir," replied the critic, amiably, "but it did not occur to me that you really might not wish the public to know who wrote it." -- Ambrose Bierce
Software, n.: Formal evening attire for female computer analysts.
The day advanced as if to light some work of mine; it was morning, and lo! now it is evening, and nothing memorable is accomplished. -- H.D. Thoreau
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.
Sam: What do you say, Norm? Norm: Any cheap, tawdry thing that'll get me a beer. -- Cheers, Birth, Death, Love and Rice Sam: What do you say to a beer, Normie? Norm: Hiya, sailor. New in town? -- Cheers, Woody Goes Belly Up Norm: [coming in from the rain] Evening, everybody. All: Norm! (Norman.) Sam: Still pouring, Norm? Norm: That's funny, I was about to ask you the same thing. -- Cheers, Diane's Nightmare
The father, passing through his son's college town late one evening on a business trip, thought he would pay his boy a suprise visit. Arriving at the lad's fraternity house, dad rapped loudly on the door. After several minutes of knocking, a sleepy voice drifted down from a second-floor window, "Whaddaya want?" "Does Ramsey Duncan live here?" asked the father. "Yeah," replied the voice. "Dump him on the front porch."
Knock, knock! Who's there? Sam and Janet. Sam and Janet who? Sam and Janet Evening...
After the Children of Israel had wandered for thirty-nine years in the wilderness, Ferdinand Feghoot arrived to make sure that they would finally find and enter the Promised Land. With him, he brought his favorite robot, faithful old Yewtoo Artoo, to carry his gear and do assorted camp chores. The Israelites soon got over their initial fear of the robot and, as the months passed, became very fond of him. Patriarchs took to discussing abtruse theological problems with him, and each evening the children all gathered to hear the many stories with which he was programmed. Therefore it came as a great shock to them when, just as their journey was ending, he abruptly wore out. Even Feghoot couldn't console them. "It may be true, Ferdinand Feghoot," said Moses, "that our friend Yewtoo Artoo was soulless, but we cannot believe it. He must be properly interred. We cannot embalm him as do the Egyptians. Nor have we wood for a coffin. But I do have a most splendid skin from one of Pharoah's own cattle. We shall bury him in it." Feghoot agreed. "Yes, let this be his last rusting place." "Rusting?" Moses cried. "Not in this dreadful dry desert!" "Ah!" sighed Ferdinand Feghoot, shedding a tear, "I fear you do not realize the full significance of Pharoah's oxhide!" -- Grendel Briarton "Through Time & Space With Ferdinand Feghoot!"
In the course of reading Hadamard's "The Psychology of Invention in the Mathematical Field", I have come across evidence supporting a fact which we coffee achievers have long appreciated: no really creative, intelligent thought is possible without a good cup of coffee. On page 14, Hadamard is discussing Poincare's theory of fuchsian groups and fuchsian functions, which he describes as "... one of his greatest discoveries, the first which consecrated his glory ..." Hadamard refers to Poincare having had a "... sleepless night which initiated all that memorable work ..." and gives the following, very revealing quote: "One evening, contrary to my custom, I drank black coffee and could not sleep. Ideas rose in crowds; I felt them collide until pairs interlocked, so to speak, making a stable combination." Too bad drinking black coffee was contrary to his custom. Maybe he could really have amounted to something as a coffee achiever.
Hey! Come merry dol! derry dol! My darling! Light goes the weather-wind and the feathered starling. Down along under Hill, shining in the sunlight, Waiting on the doorstep for the cold starlight, There my pretty lady is, River-woman's daughter, Slender as the willow-wand, clearer than the water. Old Tom Bombadil water-lilies bringing Comes hopping home again. Can you hear him singing? Hey! Come merry dol! derry dol! and merry-o Goldberry, Goldberry, merry yellow berry-o! Poor old Willow-man, you tuck your roots away! Tom's in a hurry now. Evening will follow day. Tom's going home again water-lilies bringing. Hey! come derry dol! Can you hear me singing? -- J. R. R. Tolkien
Near the Studio Jean Cocteau On the Rue des Ecoles lived an old man with a blind dog Every evening I would see him guiding the dog along the sidewalk, keeping a firm grip on the leash so that the dog wouldn't run into a passerby Sometimes the dog would stop and look up at the sky Once the old man noticed me watching the dog and he said, "Oh, yes, this one knows when the moon is out, he can feel it on his face" -- Barry Gifford
Future looks spotty. You will spill soup in late evening.
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
I've had a perfectly wonderful evening. But this wasn't it. -- Groucho Marx
Linux Ported to Homer Simpson's Brain SPRINGFIELD -- Slashdot recently reported on Homer Simpson's brain "upgrade" to an Intel CPU. Intel hails the CPU transplant as the "World's Greatest Technological Achievement". Intel originally planned to install Microsoft Windows CE (Cerebrum Enhanced) on Homer's new PentiumBrain II processor. However, due to delays in releasing Windows CE, Intel decided to install DebianBrain Linux, the new Linux port for brains. Computer industry pundits applaud the last minute switch from Windows to Linux. One said, "I was a bit concerned for Homer. With Windows CE, I could easily imagine Homer slipping into an infinite loop: "General Protection Fault. D'oh! D'oh! D'oh! D'oh..." Or, at the worst, the Blue Screen of Death could have become much more than a joke." Some pundits are more concerned about the quality of the Intel CPU. "Linux is certainly an improvement over Windows. But since it's running on a PentiumBrain chip, all bets are off. What if the chip miscalculates the core temperature of the power plant where Homer works? I can just imagine the story on the evening news: 'Springfield was obliterated into countless subatomic particles yesterday because Homer J. Simpson, power plant button-pusher, accidentally set the core temperature to 149.992322340948290 instead of 150...' If anything, an Alpha chip running Linux should have been used for Homer's new brain."
New Crime Identified: "Tech Rage" HARRISBURG, IL -- The police department in this Illinois town has coined a new term for a growing trend in crime: "tech rage". Tech rage shares many similarities with another modern crime, "road rage", but instead of affecting drivers, tech rage is experienced by disgruntled computer users. The first documented case of tech rage involves a Microsoft salesman, Bob Glutzfield, who convinced the local TV station to "upgrade" its computer systems from Macintosh to Wintel. While the migration seemed successful at first, the Blue Screen became more prevalent during the following months. Then, in January, the entire computer system crashed in the middle of the weather forecast during the 10 o'clock evening news. Viewers could plainly see the Blue Screen of Death showing in the monitors behind James Roland, the chief meteorologist. The instability of Windows 98 stretched Roland's patience until he snapped last week and succumbed to tech rage. Roland tracked down the Microsoft salesman and followed him one evening to his apartment. The weatherman yelled at the bewildered Microserf, "You [expletive]! Because of you, I'm the [expletive] laughing stock of Southern Illinois!" and then proceeded to beat him up. Roland is currently out on bond pending trial next month.
A certain old cat had made his home in the alley behind Gabe's bar for some time, subsisting on scraps and occasional handouts from the bartender. One evening, emboldened by hunger, the feline attempted to follow Gabe through the back door. Regrettably, only the his body had made it through when the door slammed shut, severing the cat's tail at its base. This proved too much for the old creature, who looked sadly at Gabe and expired on the spot. Gabe put the carcass back out in the alley and went back to business. The mandatory closing time arrived and Gabe was in the process of locking up after the last customers had gone. Approaching the back door he was startled to see an apparition of the old cat mournfully holding its severed tail out, silently pleading for Gabe to put the tail back on its corpse so that it could go on to the kitty afterworld complete. Gabe shook his head sadly and said to the ghost, "I can't. You know the law -- no retailing spirits after 2:00 AM."
There are worse things in life than death. Have you ever spent an evening with an insurance salesman? -- Woody Allen