OK, OK. A typo that will live in infamy. We're off to someplace in
Kentucky (I forget where) in an hour or so. Don't knox how to uns*bscribe,
so when I get back I'm going to delete all messages. Maybe this will have
died down by then.
Your humble screwup,
John
----- Original Message -----
From: Dirk Wright <wright@xxxxxxxxxxxx>
To: <olympus@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx>
Sent: Friday, August 25, 2000 11:59 AM
Subject: [OM] [OT] The Land of Fort Know
> Fort Know, how I remember it well. A place of peace and tranquility, where
> even the dogs knew the streets and gave directions. If you yapped them up,
> they'd even give you a pointer or two.
>
> The human populace spent many an hour in quiet bar booths intently
discussing
> high minded topics of the day over warm beer and ale. Nary a harsh word
was
> spoken, even in jest. The lesser minds were propped up, the higher were
> humble.
>
> The libraries were constantly full, and reading lists voluminous. Deep
> thought prevaded the streets and homes of that place, where knowledge was
> guarded and valued.
>
> High on a hill, sat the town, with spectacular views all around. The air
> snapped crisply and sharp, the better to think and wonder. Perches there
were
> many, at special places scattered about, lest someone needed to ponder.
>
>
> --
> Be Seeing You.
> Dirk Wright
> If you pick up a starving dog and make him prosperous, he will not bite
> you. This is the principal difference between a dog and a man.
> -- Mark Twain
>
>
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