`connected Mathematics Project' Introduced

2nd Murder Figure To Be Retried 
Ruling Means That Both 
Men Convicted Of Murder 
In Death Of Andrew Danko 
Will Get Opportunity To 
Have The Verdict Overturned

Thursday, January 08, 1998 &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Page: 





Liberal's dream for society is Everyman's worst nightmare &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 New Year's Eve found me in front of my fireplace, reflecting on life. The
warmth of the fire must have overcome me because I soon found myself dreamingI
had become a medieval traveler in quest of "truth." Trekking east from my
humble woodland abode I sought answers at the feet of a sage reputed to abide
in an "Ivory Tower" in a "Great City" on the banks of a soon-to-be historic
river. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; After many weary miles I found myself at the city gates. Crossing an ornate
stone bridge, I came upon a sign which read, "Great City closed at 5 p.m."
Thus, I camped in the wilderness under the bridge in the flickering light of a
sign that said "Fast Food." After an eventful night marveling at the various
artifacts and persons to be found there, I entered the city. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 The first citizen I saw drove a splendid carriage adorned with bright
orange lights and a hook-like device he began industriously attaching to
another, unoccupied carriage which stood in a place called "No Parking." &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 "Halt there," he cried. "I've got a dagger, and I'll use it if I have to."
Before he could run me through, I managed to explain that I had only come in
search of answers. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 "Answers!" He exclaimed. "Then truly thou hast come to the right place. We
boast one of the most enlightened populations in the world. What information
do you seek?" &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 "Wisdom most profound that I might develop a philosophy for the New Year,"
I replied. And so it was that this person, "Sir Robert the Hook," wrote down
the names of several local sages, sending me on my way with a cheery
"Remember, only accept cash." &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 I first sought out "Sir Paul the Elevated" residing high under a gilt dome
in an edifice, bearing the inscription "Beer Here." But Sir Paul spoke in
riddles of inflatable dams and moving walkways which, while truly astounding,
seemed to have little practical meaning. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 I moved on. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 Next came "Sir Fred the Raucous," who dwelt under a large steel tower. I
tried to ask Sir Fred for answers but gave up after several hours in which I
was unable to get a word in edgewise. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 Then, overlooking the banks of the soon-to-be-historic river, I spied the
legendary "Ivory Tower," home of Sir I Noe Itall. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 I found Sir Itall seated in his famed and prestigious "Lounge Chair of
Profound Statement." Sir Itall was reputed to willingly declaim on a multitude
of subjects in which he was deemed, usually by himself or some equally
qualified person, expert. Here, surely, were the answers I sought. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 I found Sir Itall so deeply in thought that I at first mistook it for a
coma, but with concerted effort I was able to penetrate his ruminative
condition and elicit an apparently conscious response. "Sir ... I began. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 His eyes snapped open. "Save the Whales!" he exclaimed. "We can swim them
up the river and keep them behind an inflatable dam to protect them from
fishing trawlers." &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 "Uh, Sir?" I interjected, "Whales live in salt water. Besides, the river
isn't deep enough for whales or trawlers to ..." &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 "Salt. Of course," he replied. " I knew that. We'll haul it in, dump it in
the river, and tax everybody to pay for it. They'll be glad to pay for it.
It's their duty to pay for it." &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 I broke in. "I've come seeking answers." &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 "And I have them for you right here," he responded. Rummaging under his
chair he came up with a box overflowing with folded slips of paper. Some were
yellowed on the edges, indicating they'd been there for quite some time.
Others looked newer. He proffered the container. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 "Pick one." &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 "But I haven't even asked ..." &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 "Nonsense." he rejoined. " You've come seeking knowledge. Pick one and read
it." Reluctantly, and with a furtive glance to assure myself that Sir Itall
wasn't in possession of any blunt or pointed objects, I did. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 "It says `Raise taxes and give away more."' I looked up, puzzled. "But how
can that be the answer? I..." &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 Sir Itall interrupted sharply. "It's the answer to everything. Here, pick
another." I did, opting for an older looking one. It said the same thing, a
fact I hastened to point out. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 "Of course, you ninny," he answered crossly. "They all do. Don't you
understand?" &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 Obviously I didn't. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 "Look, lad," he said with a kindly smile, "let me explain. I am a certified
`intelligent person,' paid to sit here and dispense my `Profound Thoughts',
the culmination of years of `Profound-Thought-Thinking.' In all my years of so
doing, this is the best answer I've come up with. Since I am obviously well
qualified and recognized as such by my equally well-qualified peers, you
should accept this answer without another thought as to there being any chance
of other thoughts- especially your thoughts, as you are not recognized as
intelligent enough to have any thoughts whether or not you understand my
thoughts at all." &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 "I'm confused," I said. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 "Of course you are." He agreed. "That's because your brain isn't
conditioned to think in the proper channels. It's so much easier to leave that
to me. Just go forth and earn, young man, and I'll tell you how much to pay." &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 "How much should that be?" I asked. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 "One hundred and ten percent of everything you make," came the reply. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 I started to protest. "But I can only make one hundred percent." &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 Sir Itall interrupted. "Obviously. That means you'll have to work harder so
you'll have more to give." &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 "Yes," I persisted. "But if I earn more, by definition I'll owe more, which
means I'll have to work longer to pay what I owe. The more I earn the less
I'll have. I'll end up on welfare with nothing. The government will expand,
hiring people to allocate food, clothing and things like that to serve new
dependents like me. I may as well not work at all." &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 "You do understand." He was positively beaming. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 "But what's the point?" I demanded. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 "Resource redistribution" exclaimed Sir Itall. "Besides, if everyone has to
work harder for less in order to insure that no one ever quite has enough,
pretty soon everybody- excluding we social theoreticians, politicians and
bureaucrats, of course- will become totally dependent on us and the
government." &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 I tried one more time. "But wouldn't it be simpler to get those who don't
have jobs some work and let people keep most of what they earn and become
independent?" &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 Sir Itall looked exasperated. "No, no, no!" he exclaimed. "If we allowed
that there would be a most unpleasant vocational side effect having acute and
unpleasant ramifications for the employees of government and academia." &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 "Which would be?" I asked. &nbsp;

Liberal's Dream For Society Is Everyman's Worst Nightmare 
New Year's Eve Found Me In Front Of My Fireplace, Reflecting On Life. The 
Warmth Of The Fire Must Have Overcome Me Because I Soon Found Myself Dreaming.

Liberal's Dream For Society Is Everyman's Worst Nightmare New Year's Eve Found Me In Front Of My Fireplace, Reflecting On Life. The Warmth Of The Fire Must Have Overcome Me Because I Soon Found Myself Dreaming.