Posted on 02/27/2002 4:20:00 AM PST by Pharmboy
Oh....like this one you posted under Philosophy? Fresh News.
Regards
alfa6 ;>}
Mama Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Engineers(Words by Harrison Bergeron, © 1999)
(Sung to the familiar Willy Nelson tune about Cowboys)Mama don't let your babies grow up to be engineers
Don't let them fix radars for middle class bucks
Make 'em be cowboys and bikers and such
Mama don't let your babies grow up to be engineers
They'll work overtime and they'll never be home
Not even with someone they loveEngineers ain't easy to love and they're harder to hold
They'd rather give you Dolby Surround than diamonds or gold
Palm pilot on belt loop and high water pants
Every day goes the same way
And if you don't annoy him and he don't complain
He'll probably rewire the house(Repeat Chorus)
An engineer loves sweaty computer shows and new sci fi movies
Microprocessors and robots and socks that are white
Them that don't know him won't like him and them that do
Sometimes won't know how to take him
He's not weird he's just different and his pride won't let him
Ever be anything other than right
Yes, IR12.
One day he found his assistant frantically preparing a huge report. They had ordered a gold-plated mirror and the purchasing dept. demanded a justification--saying the gold-plating was an unneccessary luxury. Equations and paragraphs flew. Von Braun stopped him and threw it all out. "Tell them that we ordered a gold-plated mirror because a solid-gold mirror would be too expensive."
They got the mirror.
==========
What we call "Fourth-of-July sparklers" are known in Germany as "Christmas sparklers." Von Braun ordered 100 in June for rocket ignition tests.
"Why did you buy Christmas sparklers in June?" came a question from on high.
"For experiments." This was the complete text of Von Braun's reply.
A short interval passed.
"What kind of experiments?" was the next question.
"Secret experiments."
End of matter.
--Boris
I'm NOT an engineer, but a friend of mine is. I'm going to have to send these along...
An engineer was scheduled to be executed during the French Revolution. He was strapped into the guillotine, and the blade was raised, up, and up, and up, and at the top the executioner pulled the string. Down fell the blade, stopping six inches from the exposed neck of the victim.
"Sacre bleu! Let him up," said the executioner. The engineer got up, examined the track, and exclaimed "oh, here - I've found the problem..."
Actually, this joke is based on a true story. Steinmetz pulled this on Henry Ford back in the early years of the 20th century.
The physicist calculates the velocity of the deer and the effect of gravity on the bullet, aims his rifle and fires. Alas, he misses; the bullet passes three feet behind the deer. The deer bolts some yards, but comes to a halt, still within sight of the trio.
"Shame you missed," comments the engineer, "but of course with an ordinary gun, one would expect that." He then levels his special deer-hunting gun, which he rigged together from an ordinary rifle, a sextant, a compass, a barometer, and a bunch of flashing lights which don't do anything but impress onlookers, and fires. Alas, his bullet passes three feet in front of the deer, who by this time wises up and vanishes for good.
"Well," says the physicist, "your contraption didn't get it either."
"What do you mean?" pipes up the mathematician. "Between the two of you, that was a perfect shot!"
(*) How they knew it was a deer:
The physicist observed that it behaved in a deer-like manner, so it must be a deer.
The mathematician asked the physicist what it was, thereby reducing it to a previously solved problem.
The engineer was in the woods to hunt deer, therefore it was a deer.
FReegards,
Max (i = physicist)
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