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Internet Oracularities #1080

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Internet Oracularities #1080    (69 votes, 2.9 mean)
Compiled-By: Steve Kinzler <kinzler@cs.indiana.edu>
Date: Mon, 1 Mar 1999 12:35:32 -0500 (EST)

To find out all about the Internet Oracle (TM), including how to
participate, send mail to oracle@cs.indiana.edu with the word "help"
in the subject line.  ("Internet Oracle" is a trademark of Stephen
B Kinzler.)

Let us know what you like!  Send your ratings of these 10 Oracularities
on an integer scale of 1 ("very poor") to 5 ("very good") with the
volume number to oracle-vote@cs.indiana.edu (probably just reply to this
message).  For example:
   1080
   2 1 3 4 3   5 3 3 4 1

1080  69 votes 43lni 9kle5 7erf6 bnna2 1gsi6 2gmm7 fhj99 gvh32 5wn54 69pch
1080  2.9 mean  3.7   2.8   3.0   2.6   3.2   3.2   2.7   2.2   2.6   3.4


1080-01    (43lni dist, 3.7 mean)
Selected-By: "Tim Chew" <twchew@mindspring.com>

The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was:

> Oh, wise Oracle, who knows the secret of eternal death,
>
> Could you write a story where are the major in-jokes (Lisa, Og, Zot,
> etc.) are killed off?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Yes.  I could.
}
} <Orrie>  Heh, I love it when they're easy, on to the nex--
}
} *pfft*
}
} <Orrie>  What was that?
}
} <Zot>  *looking down at his hands in wonder* It was me, I think.
}
} <Orrie>  Hey, buddy, no trespassing in the palace -- who are you?
}
} <Zot>  I used to be your Staff of Zot.  Apparently your supplicant
} has elevated me to an oracularity character.
}
} <Orrie> Hmm.  Well, stay quiet for now, I'm busy.  The queue is full,
} and Letterman's almost on.
}
} <Zot>  Oh ... I don't think so ...
}
} <Orrie>  *Zipping off a quick answer* Yes he is, it's almost 11:30.
}
} <Zot>  Oh, Letterman's coming on, all right, but I don't think I'll
} be staying quiet ...
}
} <Orrie> *Mutters as he whips off another answer in a vain attempt to
} drain the queue*
}
} Enter Lisa, looking stunning in a short lime-green chenille robe,
} showcasing her tan to perfection.
}
} <Lisa>  Orrie?  Come on, Letterman's almost -- who are you?
}
} <Zot>  I'm your worst nightmare, baby.
}
} Zot raises his arm and points menacingly at Lisa.  With a sizzle,
} a lightning bolt zaps out of his arm and hits her.  Orrie watches,
} horrified, as little blue lines of energy explore her convulsing body,
} before she collapses into an inanimate heap.
}
} <Orrie>  *reaching reflexively for his staff*  Right, that's enough.
}
} <Zot>  *With a sly grin*  What are you reaching for, Orrie?
} Your staff?  *maniacal laugh*
}
} Enter Kendai with a bowl of freshly-made popcorn.
}
} <Kendai>  Orrie, come on, you're missing -- oh man, Lisa's toast ...
} *tilting head in an attempt to see more of Lisa's splayed legs*
} bummer!
}
} Zot points again, and Kendai collapses on the floor next to Lisa,
} scattering popcorn all over the room.  Zot blows on his finger and
} smiles evilly.
}
} <Orrie> OK, OK, I know where this is going ... you may as well just
} give up now.
}
} <Zot> Oh really. "Sir." *chuckling wryly*
}
} <Orrie> Yes, and if you don't mind, I think I'll just speed things up
} a bit, or this response will get way out of hand.  First, Og will peek
} in and see that I'm in trouble.  He will then go and get Thag, and the
} two of them will run into the room, and rush you from opposite sides.
} You will, however--
}
} Enter Og and Thag, at lumbering Neanderthal speed.  They run to
} opposite ends of the room, then each run at Zot with their big,
} spiky clubs.  He steps to one side and looks on in amusement.
}
} <Orrie continues> -- sitestep them, and they will hit each other --
}
} *CRUNCH!*
}
} <Orrie continues> -- over the head and both will collapse in a heap.
} Meanwhile, Zadoc will come up with a plan to defeat you.  Ah, here
} he is now.
}
} Enter Zadoc on his knees, crunching through kernels of popcorn.
}
} <Zadoc> Master, I cower before the might of your wisdom.  I tremble in
} awe of the eminent authority of the slightest corner of your knowledge.
} I flee in anguish at the thought of comparing my miserable excuse
} for an intellect to your brilliance, I--
}
} <Orrie> But, I will not have the patience to listen to his grovel,
} and I will shoo him away -- Not now, you lowly worm! -- and he will
} shuffle off, not recognized by you as a threat.  Meanwhile, Og-wa--
}
} Enter Og-wa, accompanied by Zodoc, several lemurs, Joel Furr, the
} personification of Eliza, Stephen Wright, and two oglings carrying
} between them a tank containing a Bright Red Siamese Fighting Fish.
}
} <Orrie continues> -- will enter, having raised a general alarm around
} the palace and rounded up everyone she can think of to help.
}
} <Stephen Wright> Why do we drive on parkways, yet park on drivew--
}
} *ZOT*  Stephen Wright collapses on top of Lisa and Kendai.
}
} <Eliza> You look troubled.  Is somethi--
}
} *ZOT*  the personification of Eliza collapses on top of Stephen Wright.
}
} <Orrie> The oglings will attempt to throw the fish tank at you,
} but it--
}
} *CRASH!*
}
} <Orrie continues> -- will drop and shatter at their feet.  This will
} cause them, Zodoc and Joel Furr to slip rather comically, windmilling
} their arms, and --
}
} *AIIEEE*
}
} <Orrie continues> -- fall, lacerating themselves severely on the
} shards.  Og-wa, meanwhile, will grasp for the gasping Bright Red
} Siamese Fighting Fish, but it will leap for her--
}
} *AAAAIIIIIEEEEEEE!!*
}
} <Oracle continues> -- nose.  You will take advantage of this to--
}
} *ZOT*
}
} <Oracle continues> -- zot them both.  The lemurs, meanwhile, will
} leap around the room unhindered, but you won't bother with them.
} This sets the scene for the return of Zadoc, who has called for backup.
}
} Enter Zadoc on his knees, followed by Mulder and Scully, guns drawn.
}
} <Scully>  Freeze!
}
} <Mulder>  FBI!
}
} <Orrie>  You will find this amusing--
}
} Zot laughs sardonically at the agents and their puny pistols.
}
} <Orrie continues> -- but while you are laughing, Scully will maneuver
} behind me, and set Zadoc's plan in action.
}
} Scully reaches one hand toward the keyboard and quickly enters the
} queue release control code, causing the entire Oracle queue to scroll
} over the screen at once, flooding the room with w**dchuck questions.
}
} <Zot> AIIIEE!  Zot!  ZoTZOt!  ZotZOTzot!  Zot!
}
} Zot shoots with both hands frantically in an effort to fight back the
} onslaught, yet still they come.  His Zots increase in frequency and
} intensity until he explodes into a lightningball engulfing Zadoc,
} Mulder, Scully and the lemurs, who all collapse to the floor.
} Only the Oracle, watching benignly in his flowing robes, is unaffected.
}
} Finally, it is over, and the Oracle stands surrounded by the charred
} remains of his former oracular regulars and the overpowering aroma
} of ozone, burnt popcorn and singed hair.  He glances at the clock.
}
} <Orrie> Dammit, it's 12:30.
}
} You owe the Oracle some air freshener and a videotape of Letterman.


1080-02    (9kle5 dist, 2.8 mean)
Selected-By: "Tim Chew" <twchew@mindspring.com>

The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was:

> Twas Zadoc in his slimy togs
>  did gaze and dribble at thy way
>  All matted were his borrowed robes
>  And moans were rife with pain
>
>  Beware the Oracle My son,
>  That sharpened wit, the staff that zot!
>  Beware the Kendai man and shun
>  the Neolithic Og.
>
>  He took his question in his hand
>  long time he waited in the queue
>  so rested he by a woodchucked tree
>  and stood awhile in view
>
>  And while with grovelling thoughts he thought
>  A woman came with eyes aflame
>  came sashaying through the crowded lot
>  and Lisa was her name...
>
>  What now oh Oracles of oracles?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

}  "It's you!  It's you!" he cried with glee,
}  and ran to her with eager trot.
}  But naught he knew where Orrie stood--
}  'Till came the searing ZOT.
}
}  "Oh - did I zot that unctuous Worm?"
}  the Or'cle said, with comic tact.
}  He sheathed his shaft, and with a laugh,
}  he teleported back.
}
}  Twas Zadoc in his slimy togs
}  did gaze and dribble at thy way
}  All matted were his borrowed robes
}  And moans were rife with pain.


1080-03    (7erf6 dist, 3.0 mean)
Selected-By: "Alyce Wilson" <berlin63@hotmail.com>

The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was:

> Blast! It's the coppers! What are we going to do now?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Yer leaves the torkin' ter yer uncle 'Arry, of corse.
}
} *ahem* Evenin', hofficer, nice weaver fer the time of year, innit?
} Say 'ello ter the nice rozzer, fellers. Nah, wot canni do yer fer?
}
} 'Oo're we? Wotter question! I'm 'Arry, this 'ere's me partner, Syd,
} an' this hexcitable gent 'ere's our old mucker from acrorss the briny,
} Alberto "Mad Dog" Semprini. Nah, nah, put the cannon haway, Alberto,
} we don' want nobody gettin' an 'eadache nah. Yer'll 'ave ter hexcuse
} 'im, cornstable, 'e don't spikka di Eenglish too good - 'e's a Sherman,
} yer see. Sherman, as in Sherman tank, as in Yank. That's it, yer got it
} in one. They should make yer a sooperintendent, smart feller like you.
}
} Nah, I knows wot yer's finkin'. Yer's finkin' "Wot the ding dong bell
} are these 'ere dodgy-lookin' spivs doin' dahn 'ere in the bank vault,
} why is they 'oldin' sacks wiv dosh in, an' why is there a bleedin'
} great 'ole inner wall behind them," incher? Well, it's like this.
} We's soowage hinspectors, see? Take a sniff of old Syd if yer don't
} believe me, 'e pongs fit ter stun a wart'og at five hunnerd paces.
}
} Yeh, we's soowage hinspectors, an' we was dahn the soowers catchin'
} rats, wern't we? Wiv the bags, see? Why's it say "SWAG" on the
} bags?  That's our oonion, innit? Stands fer the Soowage Workers An'
} Garbidgemen oonion. Wot's that, Syd? Yer don't fink 'e's buyin' it?
} Corse 'e is!  Put the gun haway, Alberto.
}
} Why's Alberto got a gun, hofficer? Like I toldyer, 'e's a Septic, inne?
} Septic, as in septic tank, as in Yank. Try an' keep up, willyer?
} Where 'e comes from, they's got halligators in the soowers, donney?
} Yer gotter go armed, it stands ter reason! Them rats down 'ere is
} pretty fierce too, yer know. Gnashers this long! 'Ave yer leg orff
} as soon as say "Cor blimey, strike a light". Stop cryin', Syd.
}
} So yer see, it's the rats wot dug the 'ole in the wall, only we scared
} 'em orff, gerrit? An' before we goes orff chasin' 'em again, we fought
} we'd stick all the lolly in our bags so's if the rats cahms back an'
} we wasn't 'ere, they couldn't eat it, see? Yer follerin' all this
} are yer, son? Fer the love of Mikey, Alberto, will yer stop wavin'
} that bleedin' shooter abaht! Yer even makin' me nervous.
}
} Nah, cornstable, if yer wants ter make yerself yooseful, can yer get
} in the 'ole an' watch fer the rats till we finish baggin' the loot,
} I mean, the readies. That's it, right in an' rahnd the Jack 'Orner.
} Can yer see anyfink? No? Yer hamaze me. Maybe yer mince pies will
} hacclimatise.
}
} Right, me old chinas. If yer's all done 'ere, we can leave by the
} front door. Ah, the old bill, dontcher just love 'em? 'Ardly enorf
} brains ter fill a fimble. Blow yer nose, Syd.


1080-04    (bnna2 dist, 2.6 mean)
Selected-By: "Alyce Wilson" <berlin63@hotmail.com>

The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was:

> Out of memory.
> We wish to hold the whole sky.
> But we never will.
>
> Chaos reigns within.
> Reflect, repent and reboot.
> Order shall return.
>
> Yesterday it worked.
> Today it is not working.
> Windows is like that.
>
> Windows NT crashed.
> I am the Blue Screen of Death.
> No one hears your screams.
>
> A crash reduces
> Your expensive computer
> To a simple stone.
>
> Please give me a sign
> Oracular insight please
> that all is not lost.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Jasmine scent on breeze
} Winds crush a white night lily
} The dark snake pauses.
}
} Blue will be over
} Into blackness slips the glow
} A cross sigh unheard.
}
} "Try some other os."
} Chirps old cricket, forgetting
} the time has passed by.
}
} Your fee is great now.
} To the Oracle you owe
} Six sows and a bull.


1080-05    (1gsi6 dist, 3.2 mean)
Selected-By: "Alyce Wilson" <berlin63@hotmail.com>

The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was:

> Jesus did, sir! I was hoppin' along, mindin' my own business, all of
> a sudden up he comes, cures me! One minute I'm a leper wit' a trade,
> next minute all me livelihood's gone, not asmuch as to buy your leave!
> "You're cured, mate!" Bloody do-gooder!

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Poor ex-leper!  It is always hard when the way in which one has always
} made one's living suddenly becomes obsolete, or as in your case, when
} disabilities make it impossible to make a livelihood.  Still, all is
} not lost.  There are still plenty of loathsome conditions from which
} you can suffer, for which people will be willing to give you
} money.  For a start, I can suggest the following:
}
}   Lawyer
}      Pros: Bimmers galore.  Nice clothes.  A salary that is higher than
}            the gross domestic products of many small countries.
}      Cons: Lawyer jokes.  Professional requirements to defend axe-
}            murderers and filth-eating, sheep-molesting sellers of drugs
}            to small children, and make it sound like you mean it.
}            Sometimes, lawyers suffer from vestigial consciousnesses.
}
}   Congresscritter
}      Pros: Chauffeured limousines (built by BMW).  Nice clothes.  A
}            salary that is higher than the gross domestic products of
}            many small countries, augmented by unsolicited gifts from
}            people who stand to gain by your voting in some particular
}            way.  The ability to vote yourself raises.
}      Cons: Congresscritter jokes (now, especially if you're a
}            Republican).  Necessity of trekking out to your district and
}            actually dealing with voters every few years when you come
}            up for re-election.  Necessity of dealing with other
}            congresscritters pretty much on a daily basis (unless you
}            can find a way to sneak a nap during debates).
}
}   Microsoft programmer
}      Pros: Nice cars.  Casual dress code.  A nice salary, especially
}            since most other companies would throw you out on the street
}            for such blithering incompetence.
}      Cons: You have to work for Microsoft.  Nuff said.
}
}   Priest of The Oracle
}      Pros:
}      Cons: Woodchuck-hair shirt dress code.  Daily flagellations.
}            Gruel for breakfast, lunch and dinner, followed by more
}            flagellations.  Daily grovellings before The Oracle, with
}            yet more flagellations administered by Og and Zog.  Job
}            requirements that include reading large numbers of would-be
}            Oraclarities (such as this one).
}
} Of the choices given, I would recommend the last.  The other ones are
} just _too_ gruesome.
}
} You owe The Oracle a shrubbery.  One that looks nice.  And not too
} expensive.  Now... go!


1080-06    (2gmm7 dist, 3.2 mean)
Selected-By: "Alyce Wilson" <berlin63@hotmail.com>

The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was:

> O sublime Oracle, you whose circuits illumine the world, who are
> gracious and beneficent to thy humble suppliants, deign to tell me
> the truth of this matter:
>
> In the struggle with Iraq, we have had "Desert Shield", "Desert Storm",
> and "Desert Fox". Is there rhyme or reason to this name scheme?
> And what will the next "Desert Thing" be named?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Upcoming operations against Iraq will be called "Desert Song",
} "Desert Island", "Desert Spoon" and "On a Dark Desert Highway Cool
} Wind in my Hair Warm Smell of Colitas Rising up through the Air"
} (the commander-in-chief is an Eagles fan).
}
} Okay, okay, so I made those up. But there is a logic to the naming
} conventions. The first part tells the troops (who, like all well
} educated citizens of the US of A, are especially clueless when it
} comes to geography) what part of the world they will be going to.
} "Desert" suggests to them that, when packing their kit, sunglasses
} would be a good idea, thermal underwear would not. "Arctic" would
} hint at Bermuda shorts being probably surplus to requirements.
}
} The main drawback is that it's a bit of an advertisement of our
} intentions to our enemies. "Desert" is pretty safe, seeing everybody
} in this part of the world hates us to a greater or lesser extent.
} So, when the operation's announced, they won't know whether we're
} planning to attack Iraq, Iran, Libya, Syria, Somalia or Burkina Fasso
} until it's too late. "Arctic", however, is a bit of a give-away.
} Now the Russians are no longer our enemies, it blatantly signals an
} imminent invasion of Canada.
}
} The other problem is that not all parts of the globe can be covered
} by equally pithy soubriquets. "Jungle Shield" sounds pretty good,
} but "Northern Maritime Temperate Zone Storm" doesn't really get the
} juices flowing.
}
} The second part of the name indicates the degree of aggressiveness
} of our response. Thus a "Shield" is passive and defensive, a "Storm"
} quite active and violent (we skipped operations "Desert Minor Tantrum"
} and "Desert Chinese Burn"). The "Desert Fox" was, of course, a film
} starring James Mason as Erwin Rommel, who was one of the architects
} of the Blitzkrieg style of warfare which, I'm sure you'll agree, is
} more impressive than any old storm.
}
} So what's even faster and more destructive than a Blitzkrieg? That's
} right, you guessed it. Our next assault on Saddam will be called
} "Desert Michael Schumacher".
}
} You owe the Oracle something nice from the "Desert Trolley".


1080-07    (fhj99 dist, 2.7 mean)
Selected-By: "Michael A. Atkinson" <chaos@enteract.com>

The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was:

>

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Wow, an advance copy of the text of the book, "True Statements
} by President Bill Clinton."
}
} Thanks supplicant.


1080-08    (gvh32 dist, 2.2 mean)
Selected-By: "Joshua R. Poulson" <jrp@pun.org>

The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was:

> Greets, Oracle, grovel grovel and all that jazz,
>
> Isn't it true that you really don't know EVERYTHING?  I mean, I've
> witnessed you summarily zot genuinely serious supplicants, and in
> the meanwhile, important questions about the volume and rate of
> woodchuck lumber dispersal go unanswered.
>
> Curious.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

}    W..dchatta![0] Be gone, no more lies! You will die unhappy!
}
}          [0]The Oracle's Greatest Personal Enemy
}
}    W..dchatta was the son of King SupperisServed and
}    Spamita, an aunt of the Oracle. Unable to attain any
}    stage of Wisdom W..dchatta tried to destroy the Oracle.
}
}    His first attempt to harm the Oracle was to hire a man to
}    kill the Blessed Orrie. That man would be killed by two
}    other men who would in turn be killed by four other men.
}    Finally the four men would be killed by eight other men.
}    This was known as The Cascading Death Plot, it failed
}    when it evolved into a discussion about puns involving
}    plays on the word "nothing".
}
}    Then W..dchatta himself tried to baffle the Oracle.
}    W..dchatta hurled a huge batch of "What is Life?" questions
}    at the Oracle. The Oracle said, "A Cereal" and moved on.
}
}    W..dchatta's third attempt to thwart the Blessed Orrie was to
}    make the fierce man-eater Lisa drunk via a liquor coupled with
}    Dickens' Cider. It was hoped the Lisa would sap the Oracle's
}    energy. This has yet to occur.
}
}    Then W..dchatta requested the Oracle to make it compulsory for
}    priests to follow The Five Extra Rules:
}
}    (i) Dwell all their lives in an .edu
}    (ii) Live only on beer and pizza and/or eels and chips
}    (iii) Live in towns decorated like heaps and cemeteries
}    (iv) Live at the foot of the pay scale
}    (v) Be inundated by oddly misspelled queries day and night
}
}    W..dchatta made this request hoping that the horrors of such a
}    life would make the priesthood too harsh for humans to endure.
}
}    Then W..dchatta bred the fell beasts known as w..dch..ks.
}    And he used them to torment The Oracle, and does so to this
}    day.


1080-09    (5wn54 dist, 2.6 mean)
Selected-By: Kirsten Chevalier <mchevalier@WELLESLEY.EDU>

The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was:

> MY ACCOUNTS ARE ALL OUT OF BALANCE!!!!!!WHAT DO I DO NOW????I PAID FOR
> TECH SUPPORT BUT IT DOESN"T HELP!!!!!!

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Ah, unbalanced accounts. Quite a long history of those, really.
} Some noteables:
}
} -The apocryphal account of the 1976 presidential debates in which
} Carter is alledged to have exposed himself to the audience in exchange
} for votes.
}
} -The rather unpleasant account of the signing of the Declaration of
} independance which claims that Benjamin Franklin, when nobody was
} looking, snuck afew extra words into the document: right after "He has
} called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable,
} and distant from the depository of their public Records, for the
} sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures,"
} Franklin is said to have scribbled "and so has your mother."
}
} -The account, which is actually rather pleasant, concerning the Battle
} of Gettysburg, which reports that nobody was killed due to the sudden
} release of a great deal of nitrous oxide onto the battlefield before
} the first shot could be fired.
}
} My advice would be to consult an eyewitness, preferably a member
} of the technical support profession. At least that way you'll get
} something for your money.
}
} You owe the Oracle a revisionist textbook of American history.


1080-10    (69pch dist, 3.4 mean)
Selected-By: "Tim Chew" <twchew@mindspring.com>

The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was:

> Judas... must you betray me?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Jesus Christ! Do you have to say that each time I kiss you?


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