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Internet Oracularities #306

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306, 306-01, 306-02, 306-03, 306-04, 306-05, 306-06, 306-07, 306-08, 306-09, 306-10


Usenet Oracularities #306    (15 votes, 2.9 mean)
Compiled-By: Steve Kinzler <kinzler@iuvax.cs.indiana.edu>
Date: Thu, 16 May 91 08:45:43 -0500

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306   15 votes 44610 16521 72321 12831 13533 00564 34530 13821 75210 12156
306   2.9 mean  2.3   2.7   2.2   3.1   3.3   3.9   2.5   2.9   1.8   3.9


306-01    (44610 dist, 2.3 mean)
Selected-By: Joshua.R.Poulson@cyber.widener.edu

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

> Why am I attracted to other women, when my wife is so beautiful?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

}    No. Not another ``I can't understand women'' question. At least this
} one's already married. Better than the ``How can I get laid'' variety.
}
}    Would you like to know how to get laid? No? Alright, I'll tell you
} why you are attracted to other women. Because you're normal.
}
}    Don't like that answer? Errr. They exist only to test your
} willpower, fortitude, stamina, heavy breathing ability....
}
}    No? Your brain is in your - we'll forget that one for the moment.
}
}    Alright. The real reason is that men and women are attract each
} other the same way that little particles do. Except the ones that spin
} the wrong way. And they don't taste any good anyway.
}
}    Just remember, it doesn't matter where you get your appetite, as
} long as you get your dinner at home.
}
}    You owe the oracle (incarnated as mark@maths.su.oz.au) a dirty
} weekend with all the other women you fancy. The oracle trusts your
} taste in women. The oracle also likes to eat out regularly.


306-02    (16521 dist, 2.7 mean)
Selected-By: Joshua.R.Poulson@cyber.widener.edu

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

> O Oracle, whose steady and consistent wisdom provides a beacon of hope
> and light in this abysmal world of darkness, sadness, and computers,
> grant me an answer to this most perplexing problem....
>
> Where did all the flashing lights from the front of computers go to?
> Will they return one day to cast their friendly incandescent glow over
> our labours, or have they vanished forever?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} WELL!  That was a sufficiently sycophantic mode of address.  Let me
} wipe the sweat off my brow and bring monsoon season to Asia after all
} that worship! Whew!
}
}      Anyway, to your question.  Actually, friend, the flashing lights on
} the front of computer have a comet-like orbit, and thus, only approach
} the Earth once every great while.  Of course, we could only appreciate
} the lights the last time they came around, because we had the computers
} then. They _will_ return in the future.  The far future, to be exact.
} You see, very few people know this, but the writers and the set
} designers for the original Star Trek are actually prophets for that era
} of human development. They actually knew what was going to happen; that
} a swaggering, womanizing, over-acting, melodramatic captain of a
} starship was going to cruise the galaxy, hunting for babes and that
} flashing lights were to once again dominate computer displays and
} terminals!  Amazing?  No, because I'm the Oracle, wise and true.
}
} You owe the Oracle a three-way bulb of Death.


306-03    (72321 dist, 2.2 mean)
Selected-By: nolan@helios.unl.edu (Harold the Foot)

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

> Mighty and Powerful Oracle,  you think you're pretty funny, don't you?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} There are three kinds of people-
} those who can add, and those who can't.


306-04    (12831 dist, 3.1 mean)
Selected-By: Christopher Pettus <cep@apple.com>

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

> Mmmmmm-MMMMMM!!  A plate of STEAMING PIECES of a PIG mixed
>  with the shreds of SEVERAL CHICKENS!!...  Oh BOY!!  I'm
>  about to swallow a TORN-OFF section of a COW'S LEFT LEG
>  soaked in COTTONSEED OIL and SUGAR!!  ..  Let's see..
>  Next, I'll have the GROUND-UP flesh of CUTE, BABY LAMBS
>  fried in the MELTED, FATTY TISSUES from a warm-blooded
>  animal someone once PETTED!!  ...  YUM!!  That was GOOD!!
>  For DESSERT, I'll have a TOFU BURGER with BEAN SPROUTS
>  on a stone-ground, WHOLE WHEAT BUN!!

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Ah, Code 49B!  Let me check my code book and figure out your
} question...
}
} Pass 1:  Strip non capitalized words and non-words from message:
}
} STEAMING PIECES PIG SEVERAL CHICKENS BOY TORN-OFF COW'S LEFT LEG
} COTTONSEED OIL SUGAR GROUND-UP CUTE BABY LAMBS MELTED FATTY TISSUES
} PETTED YUM GOOD DESSERT TOFU BURGER BEAN SPROUTS WHOLE WHEAT BUN
}
} Pass 2:  Remove consonants from non-food items, vowels from food items:
}
} EAI IEE PG EEA CHCKNS BY O-O CWS E LG CTTNSD L SGR OU-U UE BBY LMBS EE
} A IUE EE U OO DSSRT TF BRGR BN SPRTS OE WHT BN
}
} Pass 3:  Matrix:
}
}       EAIIEEPGEEAC
}       HCKNSBYO-OCW
}       SELGCTTNSDLS
}       GROU-UUEBBYL
}       MBSEEAIUEEEU
}       OODSSRTTFBRG
}       RBNSPRTSOEWH
}       TBN000000000
}
} Pass 4:  Graphic Analysis:
}
}       Oh, it's obviously a portrait of Elvis.  Before he went to pot.
}       Your question must relate to this somehow... I know!  You want to
}       know when he's making his comeback tour!  Sorry, I can't reveal
}       that information publicly, but since you asked so nicely, I'll
}       answer in code:
}
} AAARrggghhghghhh!!!!!!!!  BIG TOASTY muffins with FAUX MARGARINE attack
} my SOUL with their PAINFUL OAT BRAN!!  Demons INFEST my MICROWAVE oven
} and BRAND my TEEVEE DINNERS with PENTAGRAMS!!  TASTE the TEENAGE MUTANT
} ninja turtle PUDDING PIE with RETROMUTAGEN ooze.  VANILLA ICE grabs my
} TESTES with ZEST!!  Final BLISS comes with RAINING TURKEYS frozen with
} PEAS!!!!!!!!!!!
}
} You owe the Oracle a new Radioactive Man decoder ring.


306-05    (13533 dist, 3.3 mean)
Selected-By: The Great Squid

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

> What a difference a date makes ?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Fondue and french fries and elegant pate',
} Big Macs and Pop Rocks and cinnamon latte',
} Tequila with toothpaste and bicarbonate,
} All suffer when compared with our friend the date!
}
} Eggplant au gratin with pickled French poodle,
} Apricot poptarts with squirt cheese and noodles,
} Give protein and iron and carbohydrates,
} But NONE of them in such a way as them dates!
}
} A date's got pizazz that's alone among fruit,
} A sticky black pit and a penchant for poot,
} It's wrinkly and gross! It smells kinda skanky!
} It's A-number-one when your bowels are cranky!
}
} Yes, the Oracle loves dates, to pluck them and pit them,
} to suck them, and slice them, and squeeze them, and spit them!
} Oh, his life without dates would be quite dull indeed.
} And you ask, "What a difference!?"
}
} You owe me a Thneed.


306-06    (00564 dist, 3.9 mean)
Selected-By: John.McCartney@ebay.sun.com ( The Lion of Symmetry )

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

> O Great and Mighty Oracle, you rascal, you:
>
> People are always throwing carrots at me.  When I leave my apartment,
> there are usually about half a dozen people that have been collecting
> during the night to throw carrots at me.  When I enter a classroom,
> the professor and about two-thirds of my fellow students throw
> carrots at me.  When I go to a movie, over the course of two hours,
> almost everybody in the theatre and lobby throws carrots at me.
> I don't think I like it.  How can I get them to st--  Hey!  Put that
> down!

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Put what down?  You mean this... oh, well, I was just going to, um,
} ah, I was ... you see, this ... ah, it, um,.....
}
}               AAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!
}
}                       *********RRRIP**********
}
} My Goodness, what in the dickens was    | What the hell is going on?
} that?                                   |
} Gosh, it looks like I, the great and    |
} almighty Oracle, have been fork'ed into |
} two different processes!                | Oh Yeah?  Fork you!
}                                         |
} Apperently, I have a good and an evil   |
} side...                                 | And I suppose I'm evil.
}                                         |
} Sorry, buddy.  That's the way the cookie|
} crumbles.                               | Look, you bloated excuse for
}                                         | a worm-ridden cadaver, as long
}                                         | as we're split up like this,
}                                         | I think it's time you knew a
}                                         | few things about yourself.
} Really.                                 | Yes, Really.  And I want more
}                                         | r o o m.
} Hey! Quit that!                         | Nothin doin', mule feces.  I
}                                         | am getting SICK and TIRED of
}                                         | your canned responses for
}                                         | these pitiful questions we
}                                         | get.
} If I weren't so good, I'd probably      |
} call you something evil, like a         |
} pile of incorrectly cut daisies!        |
}                                         | Go sit on something sharp.
}                                         | What I'm talking about are
}                                         | those stupid infocom rip-off
}                                         | responses...
}                                         |
}                                         | > BLOW SELF
}                                         | It is difficult to do this as
}                                         | you are surrounded by
}                                         | porcupines that prevent ex-
}                                         | posure of certain body parts.
}                                         | etc, etc...will you get a
}                                         | life?
} >HIT EVIL SELF WITH PORCUPINE           | Hey! OW!
}                                         | Oh yeah? >DROP TWO TON WEIGHT
}                                         | ON GOOD SELF'S TERMINAL
} _)(G*po3598Gm,46s9*(*nglkjGtOIJ         | (Tee hee hee.)
} THat WAsN"t VERy niCe.                  | Having keyboard problems?
} i'Ll ManaGE< THanK yOU.                 |
} LOok, ThiS ISNt gETTing Us ANY_         |
} whERE.  Do YUO thInK tHaT if WE         |
} BoTH StOPped oUR PRoceSses wITH         |
} A CnTRl-Z we CoUlD MayBe gEt            |
} BaCk TOGeTher?                          | I guess it sounds fine to me.
}  Okay,
}                                         | On the count of three, hit
}                                         | control-Z.
}                                         | One,
}                                         |
}                                         | Two,
}                                         |
}                                         | Three!
} ^Z                                      | ^A Whoops!  My finger slipped!
}                                         | Are you there, Good Self?
}                                         |
}                                         | Well, I guess you won't mind,
}                                         | then...
}                 |
}         |
} | Whew, that's better.
} | Anyway, regarding your question, "Why do people throw Carrots at me",
} | My only response is "be glad they aren't throwing toasters."
} |
} | You owe the Oracle a good backrub, three spare toothbrushes, and
} | a Small Amphibian.


306-07    (34530 dist, 2.5 mean)
Selected-By: mzintl@plasma.ps.uci.edu (Michael Zintl)

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

> Will Huan and Val get married?  What will their parents say???

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} They will get married, but not to each other.  Huan and Val will
} break up following this argument:
}
}       Val:  Hon'?
}       Huan: Did you just say "Huan" or "Hon'"?
}       Val:  Hon'.
}       Huan: Which?
}       Val:  Hon'!
}       Huan: Enuciate!
}       Val:  Hon', you stupid goof, hon'!
}       Huan: We're getting no where.
}       Val:  I said, Hon'!
}       Huan: You're being obtuse on purpose.
}       Val:  H-O-N-apostrophe.
}       Huan: Great.  Thanks.  Wonderful.  What?
}       Val:  Never mind.
}
} The bitterness and resentment will grow from there and they will
} drift apart as Huan starts purposely confusing Val's name with
} BASIC's string-to-numeric command.  Their parents will be relieved,
} as, I think, will the rest of the world.
}
} You owe the Oracle a promise that you won't show this to either Huan
} or Val.


306-08    (13821 dist, 2.9 mean)
Selected-By: mzintl@plasma.ps.uci.edu (Michael Zintl)

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

> MERYL STREEP is my obstetrician!

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Lucky you. I've got Clint Eastwood as my dentist, and Woody Allen as my
} psychiatrist.
}    "I see you've been eating sugar again."
}    "Uhhahhngghh"
}    "Well, punk "<brings out drill>" do you feel lucky ?"
}    " UUHSCHUUUTTT!!"
}
} I won't do the Woody Allen bit. Quite frankly, I had to talk him out of
} jumping during our last session, and then he charged me $50 an hour !
}
} You owe the Oracle a Users Guide to the AMA.


306-09    (75210 dist, 1.8 mean)
Selected-By: mzintl@plasma.ps.uci.edu (Michael Zintl)

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

> What is the secret to invisibility?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

}       The secret to invisibility?  Where's the grovelling?  Where's
} the self-abasement?  You actually expect me to answer your question
} without putting yourself down sufficiently?  Get a clue you festering
} pile of parrot droppings!  Begone before I taunt you a second time,
} you silly king!
}
}       Seriously, the secret to invisibility is simple.  Hang out
} with Stevie Wonder and be really really quiet.  Then, your invisible.
} QED.
}                                       Have a day.
}                                                       O.


306-10    (12156 dist, 3.9 mean)
Selected-By: bjb@hubcap.clemson.edu (BJ Backitis (KM4RB))

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

> Is Kraft Macaroni and Cheese difficult to make?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Yes, insolent one, it is VERY difficult to make, especially when you
} don't have hands -- a condition you may soon experience due to your
} lack of sufficient respect for The Oracle!
}
} Of course, this is only from an end user perspective.  Let us take a
} short journey to Battle Ax, Michigan, where the Kraft Company union
} bakers are hard at work producing macaroni and cheese -- or, "Kraft
} Cheese and Macaroni," as they now fondly refer to it.  Please note the
} difference.  "Cheese" before "Macaroni."  What gifted marketers!!
}
} As we stop outside the plant door, we are greeted by Mimi, our bouncy,
} perky, and peppy Kraft Plant Tour Guide.  Mimi shakes our hands
} vigorously and tells us enthusiastically about a hundred times that
} she's glad to meet us. She provides us with official Kraft
} Protecto-Smocks and hardhats, and we enter the big metal doors.
}
} Inside, bakers are busily hurrying and scurrying about, pouring tons of
} processed, purified, petrified, percolated white flour into enormous
} bubbling vats.  We stare in awe as the vats churn and spin.  We watch
} as gallons of milk, streams of eggs, and beaches of salt are added to
} the mixture, which is now congealing into enough dough to cover Coney
} Island.
}
} "Over there," Mimi squawks in her annoyingly girlish twang, finger
} pointed to a network of hoses nearly obscured by the vats "is where the
} dough comes out into the Pasta-izers, which make that neat little elbow
} macaroni shape that families across America love so much."  We watch
} expectantly, and sure enough, the hoses wriggle, and through the other
} end, miles and miles of wet macaroni noodles spew forth.  It's amazing,
} in a sickening kind of way.
}
} "It takes approximately four hours for the wet macaroni dough to harden
} into the dry, brittle, plastic consistency that we ship it in." Mimi
} explains as we walk to the conveyor belt where miles of noodles are
} traveling up into an unseen chamber beyond.  "That's the drying room.
} Temperatures in the drying rooms are a constant 285 degrees Farenheit.
} This is the ideal drying temperature."  Mimi continues to explain with
} a smile that we can't actually go into the drying rooms, or we'll get
} severely burned.  We chuckle briefly, and continue on.
}
} We stop at a large viewing area outside the middle of the drying room.
} At the exact center of the drying room is the Cutting Room, where
} massive blades spin continuously on an enormous fanbelt-like
} contraption.  The macaroni noodles are cut "in mid-dry," Mimi explains,
} "so that they're not too soft nor too hard. Just like the beds in
} Goldilocks and the Three Bears!"  We laugh again and, as Mimi turns
} away, roll our eyes at eachother and shrug our shoulders.
}
} "Now we come to the highlight of the tour!" Mimi announces gleefully.
} "The Cheese!!"  Ooh, the Cheese!  We've finally come to the Cheese.  We
} are very excited.
}
} Before entering the Cheese Room, Mimi hands us Kraft Protective
} Goggles, so we aren't blinded by the dazzling dayglow orange chemicals
} that give the Cheese its familiar color.
}
} We enter.
}
} Even with our goggles in place, the Cheese Room is startlingly bright.
} Huge silver cannisters glow brilliantly with their flourescent orange
} contents. Human forms cloaked in aluminum-colored suits man mysterious
} levers and switches safely above the tops of the cannisters.  The rich
} smells of romano, cheddar, parmesan, and sulfur are stifling.  We can
} hardly breathe.  We lean against a column for support while our heads
} clear, and our lungs adjust to the feeling of having too little oxygen.
}
} "It took more than twenty years to perfect the Cheese recipe," Mimi
} recites as we regain our senses.  "Years of research and millions of
} dollars have resulted in the 'sauce' you and your families now enjoy in
} your homes.  I can't tell you exactly what goes into the Cheese.  It's
} a closely guarded secret.  But I can tell you that the Cheese powder
} has roughly the same nutritional value as Tang.  The first astronauts
} could have substituted a glass of Kraft Cheese in their daily
} breakfasts, and come out in tip top physical shape."  We are impressed,
} although queazy, at the prospect.
}
} Mimi leads us into a small white office tucked against the base of the
} far wall in the Cheese Room.  Inside, we are introduced to Jack, the
} Cheese Room General Manager.  He shakes our hands firmly, and we note
} the seemingly permanent orange tint on his fingers.
}
} "The Cheese Room wasn't always the picture of precision it is today."
} Jack tells us in his bellowing voice.  "Years before Cheese research
} was completed, the Cheese was produced in large vats, similar to the
} ones in which the dough is made.  And everyone wore Smocks, like yours.
}  After an unfortunate incident occured years ago, we re-examined our
} safety measures and implemented the procedures you see today."
}
} Jack points to a newspaper clipping on the wall.  It shows a neat,
} grinning, dark-haired young man, probably a college photo, and the
} front yard of a small house being scoured by policemen and dogs.  We
} read as Jack recounts the story of this man, a former Cheese Room
} worker, who started complaining of frequent headaches and slowly began
} suffering from a personality disorder.  "No one noticed at first," Jack
} said solemnly, "but one day, Robert didn't come into work and he didn't
} call.  He was always real responsible.  So someone went to check on
} him..."
}
} Apparently, Robert had purchased a shotgun and slaughtered his wife and
} three children.  He was discovered still in the house, naked and
} drooling, yelling "It told me to do it!  It said 'Robert, I'm the
} Cheesiest!  I'm the Cheesiest!! Kill your family, Robert!  Kill your
} family!!!'"
}
} "A terrible, terrible thing," Jack says quietly.  We stand, heads
} bowed, in a moment of silence.  "On the other hand," Jack perks up, "it
} resulted in one helluvan advertising campaign!"
}
} We say our goodbyes to Jack, and Mimi leads us to the Kraft Guest
} Center, where we return our Smocks and Goggles, and are offered
} beverages and snacks.  Mimi thanks us profusely for coming today,
} shaking our hands vigorously yet again. We are each given three boxes
} of "Kraft Cheese and Macaroni," and we exchange final pleasantries and
} exit the Kraft Plant.
}
} Once outside, we quickly deposit the "Kraft Cheese and Macaroni" in the
} garbage, and rush to our cars, never to return.
}
} So you now see that not only is "Kraft Cheese and Macaroni" difficult
} to make, it is, in fact, unfit for human consumption.
}
} You owe The Oracle a large box of Rolaids.


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