There is no mention in class of Mr. Kernighan's distinguished background. But most of the students have run a Google search or two on Mr. Kernighan and seem somewhat impressed. "He wrote that book on the C language back at Bell Labs a long time ago, before I was born," said Ms. Piranian, who is all of 18.

Nanotechnologist's Lung

The greatest occupational hazard of nanotechnology is poor lab technique. It is important for the lab tech to remember that nanotechnological devices are very, very small. The slightest carelessness can result in a release of self-replicating agents into the air. If the technician subsequently breathes them in, it is quite possible that they will lodge in his or her lungs, and begin to build a civilization there.

Early signs of nanotechnologist's lung include a heaviness in the chest, difficulty breathing, and unaccountably high cell-phone bills. The latter are the result of the nascent nano-civilization attempting to obtain an independent financial base by selling complex information services, and to establish diplomatic relations with the existing macro-nations.

We all possess an inner Turkmenbashi. It is the part of us that yearns to be the absolute ruler of some sovereign state, no matter how pitiful; the part that yearns to pepper conversation with references to "my people," or to achieve weight loss simply by changing one's portrait on coins.

Starting Off Right

Whatever else you do, you should certainly begin your craft name with "Lord" or "Lady." First of all, it's pretentious, and that's always a good way to start. Secondly, it makes an interesting statement about a religion that supposedly has its roots in the traditions of peasants and rural tribespeople. Thirdly, since most Craft groups use exactly these same words for the God and the Goddess, this creates a (by no means inappropriate) confusion about just who it is that we worship.

[...]

Inventing A Name From Scratch

The best way to do this is to come up with something that sounds, say, vaguely Celtic, perhaps by mangling a couple of existing names together, and then resolutely avoid looking it up in a Welsh or Gaelic dictionary.

Luck is an important factor here, but there is always the chance that you'll manage something striking. It took one person of Lady Pixie's acquaintance only a few minutes to blur together Gwydion son of Don, and Girion, Lord of Dale, into the craft name "Lord Gwyrionin," -- and several months to find out that the name he had invented, and used throughout the local pagan scene, was also the Welsh word for "idiot."

Lois McMaster Bujold and Terrance Dicks's _Dr Who: Miles Away!_, in which the heroic Time Lord's attempts to overthrow an oppressive star empire are repeatedly thwarted by an infuriating dwarf.

Lion tamer, comedian, rocket scientist needed for front desk reception. Possessing vast amounts of useless information helpful but not required. ... If you can herd cats, you've got a job. Free parking, busline, full benefits, including paid vacation and opportunity to make grown men cry.

10. Can end almost any argument by asking, "And did you ever win a Nobel Prize?"

[...]

3. Any meaningless crap I say, the next day it's in the Wall Street Journal.

Herding sheep with dogs is nothing new. In fact, dogs are bred for that exact purpose all around the world.

But rarely are the dogs equipped with saddles. And monkeys. They will be, however, today and Saturday at the International Professional Rodeo Association's rodeo at the Hardeeville Motor Speedway.

Giles: Dear god, Buffy, there's only so much I can take. We're going to have to change the system. A fourteen-year-old's too old to be babysat, and it's not fair on her.

Buffy: What'd she make you do?

Giles: Um, well, we listened to aggressively cheerful music sung by people chosen for their ability to dance ... then we ate cookie dough and talked about boys.
(I Was Made to Love You)

10. Cyberselfish: John Perry Barlow proves the digital elite are political morons.

February 8th, 1996 - "Governments of the Industrial World, you weary giants of flesh and steel, I come from Cyberspace, the new home of Mind. On behalf of the future, I ask you of the past to leave us alone. You are not welcome among us. You have no sovereignty where we gather." Thus began "A Declaration of the Independence of Cyberspace," penned by Electronic Frontier Foundation pioneer John Perry Barlow. In one stroke, Barlow neatly captured the screw-you libertarianism of our digital elite: All governments are bad and weak, all free markets are wonderful and strong.

Whatever.

The gormless naiveté of this position soon became all too apparent, as the marketplace - in the guise of Microsoft - proceeded to systematically trample net innovation. Meanwhile, those "ineffectual" governments began drafting nightmarish new copyright laws, while the digital elite stood by (hey, nothing ever gets done in Washington, right?).

All of which proves the grim law of cyberpolitics: Smart coders can make idiotic citizens.