Date: Thu, 19 Sep 1996 00:55:00 -0500
From: Myles Callum <MCALLUM@DELPHI.COM>
Subject: The G-Man
To: Multiple recipients of list WORDS-L <WORDS-L@UGA.CC.UGA.EDU>

aht writes:
>On 9/18/96, Sylvia Edwards wrote:
>>Who misses watching others being Toaled
>I told Graham that a cult of Nipperesque proportions was being
>formed on Words-L, and he said that he'd never be able to live up
>to the reputation you all seem to remember him having, so maybe
>he'd better stay away so reality doesn't interfere with your

He has mellowed, but then so has aht. This could lead certain innocents to conclude that the wedded state has been good for both of them. Hah! It's protective coloring, I tell you, a devious ruse. These venomous creatures have not for a moment lost their ability to deliver lethal stings to the shiny pink butts of the unwary. They are simply biding their time, waiting for a worthy victim. In the words of the Bandwidth Pig during the week of Oct. 29-Nov. 4, 1995:

"I'll just mind my bidness until the TIME is RIGHT. And then I will SPRING like a mighty LIONESS, down from the ROCK."

I hope I'm not out to lunch that day.

Graham was my nemesis in my first few weeks on the list. Or was it months? He shot out these dragon-breath flames, one after another, and when he tired of that game the attack took a different form: instead of sulfurous blasts they were stiletto arrows shot by the Archer from Hell. I did my best to keep up but was obviously no match for this master baiter.

That was bad enough, but at the time, being the most naive of clueless newbies, I didn't know about the relationship between G and abh. So every once in a while, after one of his flames, there would be this maniacal giggling applause from the sidelines. Then they got married, the list gave them a cookbook, G moved to this side of the pond, and suddenly he was silent.

What the HELL!? Had the demon been subdued?

Nah, nothing like that. He was simply busy trying to make a living.

Many moons later, on two occasions, I made the fatal mistake of meeting the fellow in person, and was dismayed to discover that he had a diabolical ability to seem like a likable chap. He even had a certain human side--he was an absentminded sort who, when entrusted by his wife with possession of a cellphone, would manage to lose the dang thing every other day, the way I lose umbrellas. How can you dislike a guy like that?

One day he left the cellphone in the back seat of my car, and I had to make a special trip into Manhattan the next night to join him, aht, Marie and two friends of aht's at dinner in Chinatown. It was a terrible imposition, especially since Marie, acting as courier for Nipper and the dreaded Gang of Twentysomething from Torondezvous, gave me a "Directory of Adult Videos" that turned out to be pure pornography. Or is that an oxymoron? Anyway, it is exceedingly sleazy and I am continuing to read it in preparation for my full report to the joint Terrible Internet Things Subcommittee & Association of Subversive Studies. Even the acronym is unprintable!

This is why ftfs are a bad idea. They tend to lead to personal affection for people, thus undermining everything the Internet stands for and contributing to the revival of humanistic optimism that marked the golden age of the American musical. Bah!