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Internet Oracularities #1192

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Internet Oracularities #1192    (65 votes, 3.0 mean)
Compiled-By: Steve Kinzler <kinzler@cs.indiana.edu>
Date: Wed, 29 Nov 2000 00:10:14 -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:
   1192
   2 1 3 4 3   5 3 3 4 1

1192  65 votes 69kq4 8bmi6 ihk64 7feo5 87kge 3htc4 8cpb9 4ksa3 6cgcj 6bud5
1192  3.0 mean  3.2   3.0   2.4   3.1   3.3   3.0   3.0   2.8   3.4   3.0


1192-01    (69kq4 dist, 3.2 mean)
Selected-By: "Mark Lawrence (lawrence.4@osu.edu)" <mtlrph@excite.com>

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

> Oh Great of televisionary savvy Oracle, I missed the last episode
> of THE PRACTICE OF FAMILY LAW AND ORDER IN L.A. -- BY JUDGE AMY.
> Can you summarize it for me?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} BUY OUR TIRES !!!
} BUY OUR TOILET PAPER !!!
} USE OUR CREDIT CARD !!!
} FLY WITH OUR AIRLINE !!!
} EAT OUR BURGERS !!!
} DRINK OUR FIZZY SUGAR-WATER !!!
} VOTE FOR ME !!!
}
} Oh, and there was something about some lawyers in there somewhere, but
} a statistically insignificant proportion.
}
} You owe The Oracle a TV with an 'intelligence' control - I've tried
} 'brightness' but that didn't work.


1192-02    (8bmi6 dist, 3.0 mean)
Selected-By: "Kirsten R. Chevalier" <krc@erythrea.wellesley.edu>

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

> Oracle, the best of plot:
> why not finish little thot?
>
> Oracle      of  lots'a guys:
> olways answers, never lies;
>
> Oracle with farts like flowers:
> Show me intellect that  towers.
>
> A snayk aat a buny and payd a hevy priis.
> Dhu BUNY did a THING dhat wuzn't vaary niis.
>
> He kept hopping and hopping til the pair wer shoon buun.
> They HOPT soo HIGH that dhay FLEW tuu suun.
>
> A duv dove frum straanjerz and straanjer you'll see.
> A lion sprang up and az tol as your fee.
>
> Biting the bird to bits, the lion did not roar.
> Instead he did lay egz like hare of Easter lore.
>
> The egz wer not norm.
> They wern't even warm.
> They grew into treez at the height uv a storm.
>
> Christmas treez they wer.
> Or maybe dubbl-tayk.
> They did seem made uv fir,
> But now a branch is snayk.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Putting "Direct Connect to the Oracle" terminals in pubs turned
} out not to be a good idea.


1192-03    (ihk64 dist, 2.4 mean)
Selected-By: "Mark Lawrence (lawrence.4@osu.edu)" <MTLRPH@excite.com>

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

> How many people from Florida does it take to change a lightbulb?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Only one. Named Chad...oh, and he's pregnant. What do you
} want him to change the light bulb to? He's open to offers.
}
} You owe the Oracle a plate of solyent green.


1192-04    (7feo5 dist, 3.1 mean)
Selected-By: "Julianna Avedon" <SOteric2@email.msn.com>

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

> Oh Oracle Most Wise,
>
> What is your real name ?
>
> ______________________________________________
> FREE Personalized Email at Mail.com
> Sign up at http://www.mail.com/?sr=signup

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Silly me, I thought the link would help me.  So I clicked on it, and
} what do I get but a screen telling me I need a new e-mail address.
} "This will help me find my real name?" I thought.  But I pressed the
} "sign up now" button anyway.
}
} I was thrown into a slew of choices.  The first half of my new e-mail
} address was easy: oracle.  But the selections for the second half!
} Cheerful.com, consultant.com, europe.com, cliffhanger.com, myself.com,
} and on and on and on.  Was there no end in sight?
}
} Finally I decided on witty.com.  It was clear, it was concise, and who
} wouldn't want to write to someone with the address oracle@witty.com ?
} So I punched in "Internet" as my first name,  "Oracle" as my last,
} and hit "next."
}
} Surprise, surprise: it won't let me through.  It tells me that the
} address I've chosen is invalid.  I double-check everything, make sure
} I have every field filled and all options selected, and try again.
}
} Nope.  No go.
}
} Okay, so maybe what they mean is that the address is already -taken-.
} That I can understand; I'm a pretty popular guy, so it's not surprising
} someone would try to mimic me in some small way.  So I select another
} address prefix, this time techie.com.  Not quite as impressive as
} witty.com, but I suppose I'll live.
}
} STILL no go.
}
} Alrighty then.  I set down to thinking: not only am I popular,
} but chances are that the way the server works, it only allows one
} username suffix, no matter what prefix is attached to it.  It makes
} sense; easier to keep track of things that way.  So I'll change that
} lot to "internetoracle," and then I'll find out my real name.
}
} No.  Again.
}
} So then it comes down to this: there are six billion people on the
} planet.  At least one of them likes me so much that he/she/it has
} chosen to mimic me on the grandest scale he can come up with, which
} is to occupy all mail.com addresses that even remotely resemble me.
} Again, understandable, but one would think that he would at least -ask-
} me first.  Ah, well.  Time to get creative.
}
} After a little creative finagling, I finally get the server to accept
} me as bobapadillyboo@witty.com.  Good.
}
} Now there's all this other info they want me to fill out.  Geez,
} a person could go mad just trying to figure out their real name.
} Still, the security is a good idea -- it would probably be a Bad Thing
} (tm) if a real name were to get into the wrong hands.
}
} So:  password we'll set to, um, "9a51ga98g4a59dg45a49g2," I guess...
}
} Password question will be city of birth (Indiana University; it's a
} trick question, you see).
}
} Date of birth: October 8, 1988 (didn't receive a single birthday
} present.  I'm very upset about that)
}
} Address?  Why do they need my address?  Ah, so I'll fill in some
} random junk.  Let's see:
}
} 1010 Binary Dr.
} Cybercity, IN  10101
} United States
}
} Phone: 101-101-0101
}
} Gender: Well, there's male, there's female -- what?!  No omnipresent
} deity selection?!  What kind of joint is this, anyway?
}
} Ah, well.  Male, I suppose.
}
} Marital status.  Now -there- is a good question.  What would you call
} my current situation?  I'm hardly single, but I'm not married, either.
} I'll flip for it.
}
} ...
}
} Okay.  Single it is.  I just hope Lisa doesn't find out...
}
} No children -- well, excluding the priests, that is.
}
} Occupation: well, "Professional Services" is probably closest, but I
} really don't like the image that entails.  I'm hardly out on the street
} looking for a John, so I'll just select "Computer Related (Software)."
}
} Income?  That all depends.  Not a lot of this stuff has retail value,
} and I only ask for it on a whim.  Say the lowest bracket, that way
} the IRS will get off my back for once...
}
} And then I hit next!
}
} "Thank you for your interest in our site, but we are
}                 unable to accept your registration at this time."
}
} WHAT?!  After all that?
}
} <<ZZZZZZOT!>>
}
} You owe the Oracle an e-mail address at witty.com (without the .sig,
} if you would be so kind), and my real name.


1192-05    (87kge dist, 3.3 mean)
Selected-By: "Paul L. Kelly" <bright.red.fish@mindspring.com>

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

> Oracle, Oracle in the 'Net,
>       What's with the stupid stuff I get?
> Where do you get the glaring right
>       To insult me with dumb insight?
> I have a query, but I can see
>       you won't co-operate with me;
> And then you say, I owe you big?
>       A unicorn? A flying pig?
> If you persist with answers thus,
>       I'll rant and rave! I'll make a fuss!
> I'm really quite upset with you,
>       For having this distorted view;
> You really think you're quite profound,
>       An idiot would be more sound
> I warn you now, droll Oracle,
>       I'm quite irate, my anger's full,
> If this comes back like some I've seen,
>       Then I'll "ZOT" YOU to smithereens!

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Dear Supplicant, it seems extreme
}       To work up such a head of steam.
} I cast my wisdom on the 'net,
}       And look at all the thanks I get!
} The Oracle can't see the point
}       In getting your nose out of joint.
} That sort of rude behavior makes
}       Some people get the sweats and shakes;
} Outside of that, your getting hot
}       Accomplishes ... well, not a lot.
} My answer, it's becoming clear
}       Is not what you'd prefer to hear
} But friend, you failed to genuflect,
}       So what the hell do you expect?
} Don't get me wrong, kind Supplicant:
}       It isn't that I would not want
} To have a nice long chat with you
}       And swap verse till we both turn blue,
} But we both lack the time and means
}       And solemn duty intervenes:
} I've got a lot of work to do,
}       And I could say the same for you.
} We could just keep this up all day,
}       But when we both have had our say,
} What is the only point we've made?
}       That Dr. Seuss was underpaid.


1192-06    (3htc4 dist, 3.0 mean)
Selected-By: "Kirsten R. Chevalier" <krc@erythrea.wellesley.edu>

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

> Wise Oracle most immovably supple and gauntly muscular,
>
> What kind of exercise routine should I take up?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Do not follow the standard medical advice of consulting your personal
} physician before adopting a new exercise regimen. The Oracle knows all
} and knows your particular medical history better than any two-bit quack
} with a diploma from Slippery Rock Medical School.
}
} Follow this routine assiduously:
}
} * Arise at 6:13 A.M. every day
} * Jog 1.5 miles
} * Put your pants on, dummy
} * Enjoy a modest, nutritious breakfast of eggs, bacon, fresh fruit, pop
}   tarts, pancakes, belgian waffles, and a bowl of Sugar Frosted Sugar
}   Bombs.
} * Don't forget to use 2% milk with those Sugar Bombs instead of whole
}   milk.
} * Power nap until noon
} * Eat a modest nutritious lunch of fast food hamburgers, greasy fries,
}   and a chocolate shake. Burn off the calories by walking back home
}   instead of driving.
} * Call a cab and go back and get your car.
} * Aerobic exercise period. Practice the following:
}   - Jumping Jack Flashes
}   - Leaps of faith
}   - Jumping to conclusions
}   - Deep mind bends
} * Break for a quick dinner of pork chops with gravy, potatoes, biscuits,
}   and lobster with melted butter.
} * Hey, you forgot to get some greens with that meal. Ask for a dish of
}   mint chocolate chip ice cream.
} * Anerobic exercise period. Practice the following:
}   - Examine the inside of your eyelids
} * repeat as needed


1192-07    (8cpb9 dist, 3.0 mean)
Selected-By: Dave Hemming <surfbaud@waverider.co.uk>

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

> Oh Oracle most infinite, who will doubtlessly live for ever.
>
> There does not seem to have been a digest of your
> bounteous wisdom for some time. Have you gone on holiday?
> And if so, where to?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Unfortunately Kinzler has demanded a hand recount of the results
} of the last digest, and he is currently using a microscope to look
} for "pregnant electrons" in my RAM cells.


1192-08    (4ksa3 dist, 2.8 mean)
Selected-By: Ross Clement <R.P.Clement@westminster.ac.uk>

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

>

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Supplicant, dear supplicant.
}
} If you're going to play hide-and-seek with The Oracle,
} you'll have to remember that your ears poke out.
}
} You owe The Oracle a count to 100 with your eyes closed.


1192-09    (6cgcj dist, 3.4 mean)
Selected-By: Ross Clement <R.P.Clement@westminster.ac.uk>

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

> I looked around the alley.  Nothing.  No-one was here.  In fact, no
> sound at all.  Something wasn't right.  It was too quiet.
>
> Not being one who wants to be in dangerous situations, I jumped on a
> nearby ladder and climbed up the building.  If the man wanted to try
> and scare me, he had succeeded, but I wasn't about to let him see so.
> That was just what he wanted.
>
> It was a long climb, and I certainly needed to work out more.  But my
> wits certainly needed no exercise.  I only hope me doing this wasn't
> what he had planned.
>
> I reached the top of the building.  Nothing significant here, and still
> too quiet.  How could a whole town suddenly go so quiet?
>
> Slowly walking along, I lightly jumped from rooftop to rooftop.  The
> moon was beautiful tonight, and provided plenty of light for me to see
> my way.
>
> Having gone far enough, I had to decide whether to take another ladder
> down to the ground or try to see if any of the rooftop doors were open.
> I decided going into a building was the best idea for the moment.
> There was no telling how many goons the man had on the ground.  There
> must have been at least fifty.
>
> On the fourth building I checked I found the door unlocked.  Slowly
> opening the door so as not too make any noise (which would have sounded
> like a truck on this quiet night), I peeped through.  Nothing.  Good.
>
> I snuck up the corridor and put my back to the corner.  Taking my
> trusty dentist's mirror from my backpack, I poked it around the corner
> to see if anything was there.
>
> Goons!  Even in here!  The man must really want to capture me.
>
> I guess the only way out was back the way I came.  No more rooftop
> doors were open, and I wasn't about to break one down and wake the
> neighbourhood.   Down again was my only option.
>
> Unless ...

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Unless I stopped bouncing around like a character in some idiotic
} arcade game and took control of the situation.
}
} It was clear to me now that the man had arranged for me to reach this
} spot. The ladders, the only unlocked door - they all led me here. Very
} well, I wouldn't disappoint him. But when we met, it would be on my
} terms.
}
} Back in the corridor, I once again poked my dentist's mirror around the
} corner. By skilful manipulation, I used it to reflect the light from an
} overhead fixture into the eye of one of the goons. He looked around
} curiously. I held my breath, but I needn't have worried. True to type,
} he stupidly came over to investigate without alerting his companions.
} This is what I expected - I'd met so many of his kind during the war.
} No wonder we lost.
}
} The moment the goon rounded the corner I clapped one hand over his
} mouth and jabbed a syringe full of novocaine against his neck with the
} other.
}
} "One word and I inject the full load into your jugular," I hissed. "Nod
} if you understand."
}
} He nodded.
}
} "Very well, my fine fellow. You are going to lead me past all your
} friends. If you try to resist, you are dead. If they try to stop me,
} you are dead. If any of you displease me in any way at all, you are
} dead. Understand?"
}
} He nodded again. Such ready intelligence in one so simian.
}
} I pushed him out into the corridor. The other goons looked startled,
} and some moved as if to reach for weapons. I twitched the syringe
} meaningfully.
}
} "Try anything and he dies!" I barked. "Hands away from your sides!"
}
} Slowly, grudgingly, they complied. One began to speak, "Look, Doctor
} Szell, if you'd only..."
}
} "Quiet! Stand against the wall and let us pass!"
}
} They shuffled aside. I pushed my captive forward. Our passage along the
} corridor, surrounded by tense, angry goons, took an agonising eternity.
} Or 25 seconds, depending on how you calculate it. But eventually we
} reached the door at the other end. I instructed my captive to open it.
}
} Stairs. Dark and forbidding, leading down. There was no other choice.
} We went down.
}
} We reached an unlit landing. A corridor stretched out to either side,
} lined with doors. Directly in front of us, another door, this one with
} light trickling around the edges. Undoubtedly, this was my intended
} destination. So be it.
}
} My human shield finally found his voice. "Doctor Szell, it doesn't have
} to be this way..."
}
} "But I like it this way," I snapped. Contemptuously, I pocketed my
} syringe and pushed him aside. I had no further use for him. I took a
} hooked dental scraper out of my backpack and, holding it as menacingly
} as possible, threw the door open.
}
} The room was brightly lit, bare apart from a desk and a swivelling
} armchair with its back to me. Someone sat in the chair. I could only
} see the back of his head, but I knew I had caught up with my adversary.
}
} "Turn and face your executioner, Wiesenthal!" I cried triumphantly.
}
} "Wiesenthal?" The voice sounded genuinely puzzled. The chair swivelled
} round. I came face to face with a man I had never seen before.
}
} "Who are you?" I demanded. "Where's Wiesenthal?"
}
} "The Nazi hunter? I really have no idea. My name is Brian Moriarty,
} president of the Amalgamated Union of Window Cleaners and Allied
} Trades. Pleased to meet you at last, Doctor Szell."
}
} "You lie! If not Wiesenthal, who are you working for? The CIA? Mossad?
} What do you want from me?"
}
} "I work for my members, of course. And as to what we want... Well, do
} you really imagine we've gone to all this trouble because you pulled a
} few teeth you shouldn't have during the war, Doctor? No, what concerns
} us much more is that you haven't paid a single one of your window
} cleaning bills since 1945. The net total you owe to date is..." He
} picked a sheet of paper up from the desk and studied it. "$11,245.96,
} plus tips."
}
} I did not know what to make of all this. "Window cleaning bills? There
} must be some mistake..."
}
} "Come now, Doctor. You've received the invoices, the reminders, the
} final demands, the lawyers' letter, have you not?"
}
} "I... I'm sorry. They must have slipped my mind... I have been so
} preoccupied..."
}
} Moriarty smiled genially. "Of course they did, Doctor! I fully
} understand. While you're devoting all your energies to plotting the
} rebirth of the Third Reich from your secret bolt hole in Paraguay, it's
} so easy to forget the little things, isn't it?"
}
} "Yes... yes, that's right," I stammered.
}
} "Ah, but they're not little things to my members, you see. Their
} livelihoods depend on being paid for their work. Many of them have
} families to support. Even in the midst of our megalomaniacal plans for
} world domination, we mustn't forget the little people, must we?"
}
} I felt ashamed. He was right - a number of my past window cleaners
} might even have been true Aryans.
}
} "I am very sorry to have been so remiss, Mister Moriarty. As it
} happens, I am in town secretly to reclaim my not inconsiderable stash
} of looted gold. The bank should be opening in a few hours. If you would
} care to wait, I will return later this morning and settle my bills in
} full. You have my word on it."
}
} Moriarty clapped his hands with satisfaction. "The word of a renegade
} war criminal is certainly good enough for me. Colin," he addressed the
} goon who had acted as my shield, and who had sheepishly slunk into the
} room while we were talking, "go and tell the rest of the guys that the
} good doctor has agreed to pay up. Oh, and Colin, I'm sure the doctor
} would prefer to leave through the front door, so get them to remove
} their ladders. We don't want anybody having an accident."
}
} Colin departed. I made to leave too.
}
} "May I say, Doctor," said Moriarty, "it's been a real pleasure doing
} business with you. For a demented fascist psychopath, you are clearly a
} reasonable man."
}
} "Thank you," I said. "I shall see you later."
}
} Out in the corridor again. There were some goons there, but their
} former hostility was gone. They smiled at me and gave thumbs up signs.
} I went down another flight of stairs, through another door, outside. It
} was still dark, but with a slight brightening on the horizon,
} indicating that dawn was not far away.
}
} Window cleaners, I said to myself. Who has time to think of window
} cleaners? Or, for that matter, plumbers, housemaids, garage mechanics,
} gardeners, garbage men... Suddenly overcome by dread, I melted into a
} dark alleyway. How many more unions could be out there lying in wait
} for me? The bank wouldn't be open for hours yet!
}
} I don't know how long I skulked in the shadows. It was as if my legs
} were paralysed with fear. And still the city was quiet, so quiet. As if
} it were empty. As if there was no-one there. No-one of whom I could ask
} the one question I yearned to ask, I so desperately needed to ask.
}
} "Is it *safe*?"


1192-10    (6bud5 dist, 3.0 mean)
Selected-By: "Kirsten R. Chevalier" <krc@erythrea.wellesley.edu>

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

> Oh Oracle most wise,
>
> Can you tell me, of all the women in the world, which has the most (to
> pick a word) _scrumplicious_ breasts?  I'm talking about a combined
> scale of perkiness, texture, non husband-having, and, well, bigness
> doesn't hurt.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Yours, dearie.
}
} ... you need to work out more.


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