Hussein AL-Jabr should reach her as well as the drop
Reply by email, filling out this form and emailing it to me.
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
--
satisfactorily. "Get your dunnage," he said at last, "and
come aboard."
Back at the Lodging House I hastily settled my bill,
picked up my cases, and hired a cab to the ship's side. She
was a battered old thing, rust streaked, sadly in need of a
coat of paint, and woefully small for Atlantic crossings.
"Aye," said a man on the dockside, "she's past her prime
ye ken, and in a following sea she wallows fit t' twist yer
guts out!"
I hurried up the gangplank, left my cases by the galley,
and clattered down the iron ladder to the engine room
108
where Chief Mac was waiting. He discussed the engines
with me and was satisfied with my answers. "Okay, Laddie,"
he said at last, "we'll go an' sign the Articles. The Steward
will show you to your cabin." We hastened back to the
Shipping Office, "signed Articles", and then returned to
the ship. "Ye're on straight away, Laddie," said Mac. So,
probably for the first time in history, a Tibetan Lama,
posing as an American, took his place aboard ship as a
watch-keeping engineer. The eight hours I first served, with
the ship moored, was a blessing to me. My intensive reading
was now supplemented by some practical experience, and
I felt fully confident.
With the clanging of bells, and the noisy hissing of steam,
the shining steel rods rose and fell, rose and fell. Wheels
turned faster and faste
date: Fri, 8 Nov 2007 19:25:11 GMT
author: K. I. Iacuzio, Esq.
