"So," said Geordi to Riker, "what you're saying is that
Gaddis' counterfeiting theme in _The Recognitions_ is picked up by
Pynchon in _V_, through the character of Herbert Stencil?"
     "More or less, yes."
     "Interesting thesis.  But _V_ is undeniably a novel of the
*60's*, and besides, what evidence do we have that Pynchon was even
familiar with Gaddis."
     "It doesn't matter.  I don't need to read Sophocles to have
dreams about my mother."
     "Will!" said Troi.
     "Wear the wig, Deanna."
     "Will!!"
     "Bite zee bullet, bay-bee."
     "I feel weirdness."
     
     LP said, "As much as I hate these silly puzzles, there *is*
one that has been a favorite of mine.  I'm gonna ask Ram, and
*only* Ram, okay?"
     "Go ahead," said Ramanujan, "make my day."
     "Three men check into a hotel.  The rate for the night is $10
each.  They give him $30 and the bellhop shows them to their rooms. 
An hour or so later, the manager realizes he made a mistake, that
the charge for the room is really only $25.  He gives the bellhop
$5 to return to the men.  The bellhop, seeing that the men won't be
able to divide this up evenly, keeps two dollars and gives the men
back three, which they divvy up.  So now, the men have paid nine
dollars each, making $27 for the room and the bellhop has two, for
a total of $29.  But they originally gave him thirty.  So where's
the missing dollar?"
     "I'm sorry, Ludwig," said Ramanujan.  "I must be missing
something.  Why are you *adding* the two dollars of the bellhop to
the $27 that the men paid?  Add the bellhop's two dollars to the
manager's $25 and--"
     "Oh, forget it," said Ludwig.
     "Did I miss something?" said Ramanujan.

     "Data," said Riker, "we were wondering.  Expand pi in base
Ascii.  Does the text of _Don Quixote_ show up, and if so, when?"
     "I should use the ship's computer--"
     "Don't bother."
     "Give me a minute."  All expression left his face and after a
few moments he said, "Some initial calculations tell me that it
would take the ship's computer, working on nothing else, over four
hundred billion Earth years before an error-free version of _Don
Quixote_ would appear, although--"  he snickered, "--I *am* getting
some references to Dulcinea much sooner."
     "Thank you, Data."
     
     "Interestingly, pi to only 39 places will give you enough
accuracy to tie a belt around the known universe to within the
radius of a hydrogen atom."
     Q appeared, said, "49 places," and disappeared.
     "LP," said Ramanujan, "suppose we have this enormous belt strapped 
around the universe, and let it out just a little over 6 feet, say 2pi feet, 
how  much of a gap would this create between the belt and the universe?"
     "Is this supposed to be tricky?"  Ludwig picked up a pencil
and mumbled to himself, "...radius plus 2pi, squared, times pi
again..."
     "What's the radius of the universe?" he asked.
     Data started to answer, but Picard stopped him.
     "Ludwig," said Holly.  "Look.  Circumference is 2pi r, not pi r sq--"
     "Leave me alone, woman!"
     "Wavelet!"
     "Boeotian," said Gauss.
     "Kerl," said Wittgenstein.
     "Hey, I thought the only German the author knows is 'mittelschmerz'."
     "Der autor ist ehrlich."
     "Wahrt am langsten." 
     "Yeah.  Right."
     "Who's speaking?"

     LP looked up and said, "I'll get back to you on this one, okay, Ram?"
     "Take your time, by all means."
     "How many places do you want me to carry this out to?"
     "To the left or right of the radix point?"
     "Shhh.  You'll just encourage him."

     "Okay, Data," said Barclay.  "It's time."
     Data said, "If everyone would follow me, please..."  
He led them into an adjoining room where they each took a seat in
a cubicle.  
     "Captain?"
     "What is it now, Guinan?"
     "Computer," said Barclay.  "Freeze program."
     "Sir, we had to jettison the warp core.  I think maybe you
should come back to the bridge."
     "Not *now*, Guinan.  It's almost over.  But tell me, why did
you jettison the core?"
     "The space-potatoe, Sir.  It *wanted* it.  All those
*eyes*..."
     "Enough.  So we're being sucked in to the space-potatoe, and
we don't have warp?"
     "Yes."
     "Well, isn't that just great?"  He joined his crew up in the
gallery and said,  "Suggestions?"
     They gave him the gas-face.
     "Carry on, Broccoli."
     "Computer, continue program."

     Once everyone was seated in his or her cubicle, they were
strapped in so that they were nearly immobile.  Then, from behind
a panel in each cubicle, the barrel of a revolver appeared, aimed
at each person's heart.  
     "What's going on?"
     "Release us."
     "I am firing my publicist."
     Data said, "You will all notice a red button under your right
forefinger.  If you press this button, there is a 50 percent chance
that the gun pointed at you will fire.  If all of you refrain from
pressing the button, none of the guns will fire.  If however, one
or more of you presses the button, all of the refrainers will die.
Take your time."



          UN-altered REPRODUCTION and INSEMINATION of this
          IMPORTANT Information is a MORAL IMPERATIVE.

RICHH