I SUFFER FROM A TERRIBLE ADDICTION CALLED COMPUTING. Although I hadleft for Europe to flee from the terrible slave labour camp called theoffice, to rest my hears from the awful rantings of my evil boss butmost of all to escape from the creation (Windows 95) of the Spawn ofSatan (Bill H. Gates) I had the "e-mail" urge. Ever had one of those?You are thousand of miles away from home, but you just have to readyour e-mail. My girlfriend thinks I should seek medical help.
In a Cybercafe` in downtown Rome, next to the Vatican walls, withpeople watching the first soccer derby of the year or playing Quake Imanaged to send an e-mail to the few people whose address I stillcould remember. I then went surfing happily in Capnasty whiledrinking lemonade in front of an eggplant and mozzarella sandwhich.Unfortunately I couldn't check my mail. I would have to wait untilmy return to Toronto.
Back in Toronto I was greeted by some really good weather (20 degreescolder instead of the 40 I had estimated) and although tired andkissed to death by family and other relatives (it's an Italian thing)I finally was able to check my mail.
There were 767 messages waiting for me. 464 messages belonged tovarious newslists I subscribed to. Of the remaining 303 messages, 48were spam, 46 jokes (thanks Sandra), 15 wishes of a Merry Christmas,3 messages which were definately not for me, but somehow I was ontheir carbon copies, and one jerk STILL complaining of how I forcereligious propaganda down people's throats. In total I had 2 personalmessages.
I've received some "complains" since the last two CoNs were notsent out. The reason they were not sent out was because we wereall busy in our laborious lives. Our apologies to all those thatwrote, and also, if I haven't replied to your e-mails yet. I willbe doing that shortly.
And I'll end this with something completely unusual:
"We are flying, Katarina!"
"Like the goats, Maestro!"