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Original Usenet thread from alt.ascii-art, started 19 Oct 1998.
 _   _                     _        _             _     _           
| | | |___  ___ _ __   ___| |_     / \   _ __ ___| |__ (_)_   _____ 
| | | / __|/ _ \ '_ \ / _ \ __|   / _ \ | '__/ __| '_ \| \ \ / / _ \
| |_| \__ \  __/ | | |  __/ |_   / ___ \| | | (__| | | | |\ V /  __/
 \___/|___/\___|_| |_|\___|\__| /_/   \_\_|  \___|_| |_|_| \_/ \___|
IF

IF

alt.ascii-art · 3 messages · 19 Oct 1998
joris bellenger <svz...@xs4all.nl> wrote:


>Colin Douthwaite wrote:
>[snip of a lot of "if"]

>>
>>     |  If you can fill the unforgiving minute                 |
>>    /     With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,          /
>>   |    Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,      |
>>   |      And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!     |
>>    \                                                         \
>>     |                                                         |
>>     |                          -- RUDYARD KIPLING             |
>>     |                                                         |
>>     |                                                         |
>>  __/_____________________________________________________    /
>> /                                                       /   /
>> \                                                       \__/
>>  `-------------------------------------------------------'


>Does daughters become Men too?

Nope, Kipling would have written differently for daughters if he
had written anything at all at a time when it was a man's world
with women left at home to raise a large family when childbirth
was limited only by nature.

Now we have the Nuclear Family or childless, marriage-less marriages
where fewer people know who they belong/belonged to or who their real
fathers and mothers were.

The New Society has new writers...not Kipling.

HooRoo,

joris bellenger <svz...@xs4all.nl> ASCII art 19 Oct 1998 00:00 · permalink · report

Colin Douthwaite wrote:
[snip of a lot of "if"]

>
>     |  If you can fill the unforgiving minute                 |
>    /     With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,          /
>   |    Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,      |
>   |      And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!     |
>    \                                                         \
>     |                                                         |
>     |                          -- RUDYARD KIPLING             |
>     |                                                         |
>     |                                                         |
>  __/_____________________________________________________    /
> /                                                       /   /
> \                                                       \__/
>  `-------------------------------------------------------'


Does daughters become Men too?
--

          `,
       ,\, #
       |/  ?
       | ~ )\
       /_ /\ \____  joris bellenger (b'ger)
       /   \_/    \ e-mail: svz...@xs4all.nl
http://www.xs4all.nl/~svzanten/joris/ascii/main.html
     / < ______ _> \
    /___/  ,___/____)
        |\/



<HTML>
<TT></TT>&nbsp;<TT></TT>

<P><TT>Colin Douthwaite wrote:</TT>
<BR><TT>[snip of a lot of "if"]</TT>
<BLOCKQUOTE TYPE=CITE><TT>&nbsp;</TT>
<BR><TT>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; |&nbsp; If you can fill the unforgiving minute&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
|</TT>
<BR><TT>&nbsp;&nbsp; /&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; With sixty seconds' worth
of distance run,&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
/</TT>
<BR><TT>&nbsp; |&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Yours is the Earth and everything that's
in it,&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; |</TT>
<BR><TT>&nbsp; |&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; And - which is more - you'll
be a Man, my son!&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; |</TT>
<BR><TT>&nbsp;&nbsp; \&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
\</TT>
<BR><TT>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; |&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
|</TT>
<BR><TT>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; |&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
-- RUDYARD KIPLING&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
|</TT>
<BR><TT>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; |&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
|</TT>
<BR><TT>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; |&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
|</TT>
<BR><TT>&nbsp;__/_____________________________________________________&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
/</TT>
<BR><TT>/&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
/&nbsp;&nbsp; /</TT>
<BR><TT>\&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
\__/</TT>
<BR><TT>&nbsp;`-------------------------------------------------------'</TT></BLOCKQUOTE>
<TT>&nbsp;</TT>
<BR><TT>Does daughters become Men too?</TT>
<BR><TT>--</TT><TT></TT>

<P><TT>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; `,</TT>
<BR><TT>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; ,\, #</TT>
<BR><TT>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; |/&nbsp; ?</TT>
<BR><TT>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; | ~ )\</TT>
<BR><TT>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; /_ /\ \____&nbsp; joris bellenger
(b'ger)</TT>
<BR><TT>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; /&nbsp;&nbsp; \_/&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
\ e-mail: svz...@xs4all.nl</TT>
<BR><TT><A HREF="http://www.xs4all.nl/~svzanten/joris/ascii/main.html">http://www.xs4all.nl/~svzanten/joris/ascii/main.html</A></TT>
<BR><TT>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; / &lt; ______ _> \</TT>
<BR><TT>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; /___/&nbsp; ,___/____)</TT>
<BR><TT>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; |\/</TT>
<BR><TT>&nbsp;</TT></HTML>


Colin Douthwaite <cfb...@southern.co.nz> ASCII art 19 Oct 1998 00:00 · permalink · report
   ___________________________________________________________
  /                                                          /\
 |                                                          |_/
 |                      ___    _______                      |
  \                    |   |  |   _   |                     \
   \                   |.  |  |.  1___|                      \
    |                  |.  |  |.  __)                         |
    |                  |:  |  |:  |                           |
    |                  |::.|  |::.|                           |
   /                   `---'  `---'                          /       #
  |                                                         |       ##
  |                                                         |       ###
   \   IF you can keep your head when all about you          \       #
    |    Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,             |      |
    |  If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,      |      |/|
    |    But make allowance for their doubting too;           |     /,,|
    |  If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,           |    |,,,|
    |    Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,             |    | ,,|
    |  Or being hated, don't give way to hating,              |    | , |
   /     And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise.     /     | , |
  |                                                         |      |   |
  |                                                         |      |   |
   \   If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;   \     |   |
    |    If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;;  |    |   |
    |  If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster              |    |   |
    |    And treat those two impostors just the same;         |   _|___|_
   /   If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken       /   =========
  |      Twisted by Knaves to make a trap for fools,        |
  |    Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,   |
   \     And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:     \
    |                                                         |
    |                                                         |
    |  If you can make one heap of all your winnings          |
   /     And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,          /
  |    And lose, and start again at your beginnings,        |
  |      And never breathe a word about your loss;          |
   \   If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew       \
    |    To serve your turn long after they are gone,         |
    |  And so hold on when there is nothing in you            |
    |    Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"       |
   /                                                         /
  |                                                         |
  |    If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue     |
   \     Or Walk with Kings - nor lose the Common touch,     \
    |  If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,       |
    |    If all men count with you, but none too much;        |
    |  If you can fill the unforgiving minute                 |
   /     With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,          /
  |    Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,      |
  |      And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!     |
   \                                                         \
    |                                                         |
    |                          -- RUDYARD KIPLING             |
    |                                                         |
    |                                                         |
 __/_____________________________________________________    /
/                                                       /   /
\                                                       \__/
 `-------------------------------------------------------'

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