Collage 126               H u m o u r N e t               26 AUG 95

At a prison in Dundalk, MD (a town almost as swank as Trucksville,
PA :-), security personnel discovered a tunnel being dug by several
of the inmates. In this case, however, the inmates were *lucky*
that the tunnel was discovered, since they were less than two feet
away from burrowing into the prison's septic tank.

If it had been *my* choice, I would have just let them keep digging.

And, just in case that didn't spoil your appetite, I present to you
the "Jean-Paul Sartre Cookbook"--which is *very* humorous, even if
you're one of the few people who don't know WHO Jean-Paul Sartre
was. (For you poor souls who are not aware, Jean-Paul Sartre played
"The Galloping Gourmet" on "Sixty Minutes." Or something like that.)

And since this Collage seems to have a decidedly culinary theme, the
second piece, "Lunch, a` la HP," is a metaphorical account of the
complexity of large computer purchases. Or something like that. :-)

Bon appetit!

- Vince Sabio
  HumourNet Moderator
  HumourNet@telephonet.com
____________________________________________________________________
          Opener (above) Copyright 1995 by Vincent Sabio
  Permission is hereby granted to forward or post this "Collage";
  please observe the guidelines stated at the end of the message.
____________________________________________________________________

                      THE JEAN-PAUL SARTRE COOKBOOK
                         By Alastair Sutherland

from Free Agent, March 1987 (a Portland Oregon alternative newspaper)

We have been lucky to discover several previously lost diaries of
French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre stuck in between the cushions of
our office sofa. These diaries reveal a young Sartre obsessed not
with the void, but with food. Apparently Sartre, before discovering
philosophy, had hoped to write "a cookbook that will put to rest all
notions of flavor forever." The diaries are excerpted here for your
perusal.

OCTOBER 3

 Spoke with Camus today about my cookbook. Though he has never actually
 eaten, he gave me much encouragement. I rushed home immediately to
 begin work. How excited I am! I have begun my formula for a Denver
 omelet.

OCTOBER 4

 Still working on the omelet. There have been stumbling blocks. I keep
 creating omelets one after another, like soldiers marching into the
 sea, but each one seems empty, hollow, like stone. I want to create an
 omelet that expresses the meaninglessness of existence, and instead
 they taste like cheese. I look at them on the plate, but they do not
 look back. Tried eating them with the lights off. It did not help.
 Malraux suggested paprika.

OCTOBER 6

 I have realized that the traditional omelet form (eggs and cheese) is
 bourgeois. Today I tried making one out of cigarette, some coffee, and
 four tiny stones. I fed it to Malraux, who puked. I am encouraged, but
 my journey is still long.

OCTOBER 10

 I find myself trying ever more radical interpretations of traditional
 dishes, in an effort to somehow express the void I feel so acutely.
 Today I tried this recipe:

   Tuna Casserole

   Ingredients: 1 large casserole dish

   Place the casserole dish in a cold oven. Place a chair facing the
   oven and sit in it forever. Think about how hungry you are. When
   night falls, do not turn on the light.

 While a void is expressed in this recipe, I am struck by its
 inapplicability to the bourgeois lifestyle. How can the eater
 recognize that the food denied him is a tuna casserole and not some
 other dish? I am becoming more and more frustrated.

OCTOBER 25

 I have been forced to abandon the project of producing an entire
 cookbook. Rather, I now seek a single recipe which will, by itself,
 embody the plight of man in a world ruled by an unfeeling God, as well
 as providing the eater with at least one ingredient from each of the
 four basic food groups. To this end, I purchased six hundred pounds of
 foodstuffs from the corner grocery and locked myself in the kitchen,
 refusing to admit anyone. After several weeks of work, I produced a
 recipe calling for two eggs, half a cup of flour, four tons of beef,
 and a leek. While this is a start, I am afraid I still have much work
 ahead.

NOVEMBER 15

 Today I made a Black Forest cake out of five pounds of cherries and a
 live beaver, challenging the very definition of the word cake. I was
 very pleased. Malraux said he admired it greatly, but could not stay
 for dessert. Still, I feel that this may be my most profound
 achievement yet, and have resolved to enter it in the Betty Crocker
 Bake-Off.

NOVEMBER 30

 Today was the day of the Bake-Off. Alas, things did not go as I had
 hoped. During the judging, the beaver became agitated and bit Betty
 Crocker on the wrist. The beaver's powerful jaws are capable of
 felling blue spruce in less than ten minutes and proved, needless to
 say, more than a match for the tender limbs of America's favorite
 homemaker. I only got third place. Moreover, I am now the subject of a
 rather nasty lawsuit.

DECEMBER 1

 I have been gaining twenty-five pounds a week for two months, and I am
 now experiencing light tides. It is stupid to be so fat. My pain and
 ultimate solitude are still as authentic as they were when I was thin,
 but seem to impress girls far less. From now on, I will live on
 cigarettes and black coffee.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Lunch, a` la HP

This is the story of a different kind. No melting CPU's, no
screaming disc drives, just the kind of psychological torture that
scars a man for life.

I had a 9:00 meeting with my HP sales rep. I needed to buy an
entire new series 70--the works. He said it would take about an hour.
Three hours later, we'd barely gotten the datacomm hardware down on
paper, so he invited me downstairs for lunch.

This was my first experience in an HP cafeteria. Above the service
counter was a menu which began ...

MMUs (Main Menu Units)

0001A    Burger. Includes sesame-seed bun.
         Must order condiments 00110A separately

   001   Deletes seeds.   002   Expands burger to two patties.

00020A   Double cheeseburger, preconfigured. Includes cheese, bun and
         condiments.

   001   Add-on bacon.
   002   Delete second patty.
   003   Replaces second patty with extra cheese.

00021A   Burger Upgrade to Double Cheeseburger

   001   From Single Burger.
   002   From Double Burger.
   003   Return credit for bun.

00220A   Burger Bundle. Includes 00010A, 00210A and 00310A

   001   Substitute root beer 00311A for cola 00310A.

My eyes glazed over. I asked for a burger and a root beer. The
waitress looked at me like I was an alien.

"How would you like to order that, sir?" "Quickly, if possible.
Can't I just order a sandwich and a drink?" "No sir. All our
service is menu driven. Now what would you like?" I scanned the
menu. "How big is the 00010 burger?" "The patty is rated at eight
bites." "Well, how about the rest of it?" "I don't have the specs on
that, sir, but I think it's a bit more." "Eight bites is too small.
Give me the Double Burger Upgrade."

My sales rep interrupted. "No, you want the Single Burger option
002 'expands burger to two patties.' The double burger upgrade
would give you two burgers.

"But you could get return credit on the extra bun," the waitress

chimed in, trying to be helpful, "although it isn't documented."

I looked around to see if anybody was staring at me. There was a
couple in line behind us. I recognized one of them, a guy who
nearly mowed me down in the parking lot with his cherry-red '62
Vette. He was talking to some woman who was waving her arms around
and looking very excited.

"What if ... we marketed the bacon cheeseburger with the vegetable
option and without the burger and cheese? It would be a BLT!"

The woman charged off in the direction of the telephone, running
steeplechases over tables and chairs. My waitress tried to get my
attention again. "Have you decided, sir?"

"Yeah, give me the double burger--excuse me, I mean the 00020A with
the option 001. I want everything on it." She put me down for the
Condiment Expansion Kit, which included mayonnaise, mustard and
pickles with a option to substitute relish.

"Ketchup." I hated to ask. "I want ketchup on that, too." "That's
not a condiment, sir, it's a Tomato Product." My sales rep butted in
again. "Thats not a supported configuration." "What now?" I kept my
voice steady. "Too juicy. The bun can't handle it." "Look. Forget
the ketchup, just put some lettuce and tomatoes on it."

The waitress backed away from the counter. "I'm sorry, sir, but
thats not supported either, the bun can take it but the burger won't
fit in the box. The sales rep defended himself. "Just not at first
release." "It is being beta-tested, sir."

I checked the overhead screen. Fries, number 000210A, option 110.
French, followed by option 120, English. "What the hell are English
Fries?" I turned to the sales rep. "Chips they call them. We sell
a lot of them."

I gave up. "OK, OK just give me a plain vanilla Burger Bundle." The
confused the waitress profoundly. "Sir, Vanilla as an option is
configured only for series 00450 Milkshakes." My sales rep chuckles.
"No ma'am, he just wants a standard 00220A off the shelf." I
wondered how long it had been on the shelf. I didn't ask.

"Very good, sir." The waitress breathed a sigh of relief. "Your
meal is now on order. Now how would you like it supported?"
"Support?" She directed me to the green shaded area at the bottom of
the menu, and I began a litany with my Sales Rep that I'll never
forget.

"Implementation assistance?"

"You get a waiter."

"Implementation analysis?"

"You tell him how hungry you are and he tells you what to eat."

"Response Center Support?"

"He brings it to your table."

"Extended materials?"

"You get refills."

I stuffed some money at the waitress and told her to take it. She
gave me my check on three sheets of green-bar paper. I studied it
on my way to the table, and decided it would pass as an emergency
napkin.

Table? My Sales Rep had been bright enough to order us a table. He
hadn't been bright enough to check on a delivery date. The table
waiter slouching in his corner surveyed the crowded room, looked at
me and said, "Two weeks. But I can get you a stand alone chair by
the window right away."

I handed him the tray. A woman rushed up to me with two small cups
of chili and sauerkraut for a hot dog somebody else had ordered.
The room began to grow dim, my eyesight faded...

I woke up clutching the water glass at my bedside table. It was
five AM, four hours till my meeting with HP. I had had a vision, I
did what it told me to do. I dialed my office, and I called in
sick.

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