Reply by email, filling out this form and emailing it to me. Trimming off the rest of this post is unnecessary. I will guarantee anonymity except in cases of blatant abuse. I will achieve anonymity by tallying the results in uncorrelated tabulations and then deleting the emails. (I know this loses interesting correlation data, but if resondents want anonymity it's hard to avoid.) I know that this anonymity promise depends on trust and that you have no particular reason to trust me. Someday, I hope. I will post results Saturday. xxxxxxxx beginning of survey xxxxxxxx yes( ) ( )no Should RoadRunner be subjected to some kind of UDP? yes( ) ( )no ... active UDP (cancels) ? yes( ) ( )no ... passive UDP (drop messages) ? yes( ) ( )no ... all-groups UDP? (as opposed to specific groups) yes( ) ( )no Are you a Usenet sysadmin? How big:_ How long:_ yes( ) ( )no Should another server be subjected to UDP? Who:_ yes( ) ( )no Should UDPs be used more often? yes( ) ( )no Should UDPs be used less often? yes( ) ( )no Would you have answered this survey without anonymity? xxxxxxxx end of survey xxxxxxxx -- before replying. "Yes I do," I answered, "if it is legitimate!" "The job I have to offer is very legitimate." He paused and smiled at me. "You see, I know all about you. Marcel was instructed to bring you to me, but he ran away. I know of your Russian journey and of your travels since. Marcel delivered a letter from 'the American' about you and then ran off from me as he did from you." What a network, I thought. However, I consoled myself, these Europeans did things in a manner different from us of the East. The man motioned to me. "Put your cases in the car and I will take you off to lunch so that we may talk." This 104 was sense indeed. At least it would get those horrid cases off my hands for a time. Gladly I put them in the luggage compartment and then got into the seat beside him. He drove off to the best hotel, the du Coq Hardi, where he was very obviously well known. With many exclamations at my modest requirements in the refreshment line, he came to the point. "There are two elderly ladies, one of eighty-four and the other of seventy-nine," he told me, looking carefully around. "They are most anxious to go to the son of one of them who is living in Paris. They, are afraid of bandits -old people have such fears, and they have been through two severe wars-and they want a capable man who is able to protect them. They can pay well." Women? Old women? Better than young ones, I thought. But I still did not like the idea much. Then I considered my heavy cases