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Internet Oracularities #318

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318, 318-01, 318-02, 318-03, 318-04, 318-05, 318-06, 318-07, 318-08, 318-09, 318-10


Usenet Oracularities #318    (16 votes, 2.9 mean)
Compiled-By: Steve Kinzler <kinzler@iuvax.cs.indiana.edu>
Date: Mon, 24 Jun 91 21:55:52 -0500

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318   16 votes 22174 15532 36430 46321 15433 53620 35440 13462 14443 09520
318   2.9 mean  3.6   3.0   2.4   2.4   3.1   2.3   2.6   3.3   3.2   2.6


318-01    (22174 dist, 3.6 mean)
Selected-By: arf@mentor.cc.purdue.edu (The Nefarious Scotto)

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

> GIVE ME A COOKIE.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} FROM THE FILES OF INTERNET IGGIE, MASTER DETECTIVE:
} ---------------------------------------------------
}
} The Walther jumped in my hand four times, and four neat round holes
} blossomed in his chest. Good, I thought. That'll teach HIM to stiff me
} for my fee. He'd owed me a box of Oreo Doublestuf for nearly a week.
}
} The word "stiff" buzzed in my brain. I got out a flyswatter, but it
} was too fast for me. Then I remembered, I had remembered the word for
} a reason. The buzzing was getting louder. If I could just remember the
} reason for my reasoning, I could remember the reason I had remembered.
} Then I remembered the flyswatter and flattened that line of reasoning.
}
} What? Oh yeah, stiff. Got to deal with something that's stiff.  I made
} a quick check. No, _that_ wasn't stiff, but it sure felt nice.
} Stiff...  stiff... that's it. I had one here that needed immediate
} attention. I gazed at his china-blue eyes, began to stroke his tawny
} hair - but that kind of attention was wasted on him now. I had to
} dispose of him, and quick. It was ten-thirty, and the mall was getting
} crowded.
}
} Two little blue-haired ladies had come out of Victoria's Secret and
} were staring at what was left of the cookie embezzler. One of them
} nearly dropped her red satin garters. I fired the Walther over their
} heads. Unfortunately, not far enough over. Now I had two more stiffs
} on my hands. This predicament was getting too stiff for me, to say
} nothing of my one-eyed trouser snake. Dead grannies with sexy lingerie
} have that effect on me.  I took out my bottle of Old Clawhammer and
} proceeded to get stiff. Oh, dammit, STIFF!
}
} I searched Stiff No. 1 for ID. I found his wallet, address book,
} passport, keys to his car. Junk. I stashed it in my codpiece. But
} clutched in his hand was a slip of paper with the words
}
}                  HELP! I'm being held prisoner in
}                  a Chinese fortune cookie factory!
}
} Now THAT caught my attention. The jackpot. The kind of break every
} cheap shamus would stand in the drizzle for all afternoon, without his
} trenchcoat and with his gumshoes soaked to the bone. Somewhere there
} was a fortune waiting for me, and a couple of Chinese cookies to sit
} on my lap and keep us company. Now all I had to do was find the
} factory that this bird had escaped from.
}
} I looked at the back. All I could see were freckles, moles, zits, and
} four bullet holes. But on the back of the paper were the words
}
}                   WON HUNG LO'S PLEASURE FACTORY
}                  "The Sweetest Cookies in China"
}                           1-900-COOKIES
}                    Tell 'em Coquette sent you!
}                    (Group Discounts Available)
}
} I made my way to Won Hung Lo's factory, through the police barricade
} and the SWAT team. Rocket-propelled grenades are a private eye's best
} friend in a tight spot like this. I knocked on the door. It opened a
} crack to reveal a life-size female advertisement for Michelin tires,
} wearing eight pounds of gilt jewelry and nearly as much Jungle
} Gardenia. She greeted me with enthusiasm.
}
} "What choo want, honky?"
}
} "I want to talk to Won Hung Lo. Coquette sent me."
}
} "I'm Coquette." She wiped her nose on her sleeve. "Won Hung Lo ain't
} here. Fact, I never seen the dude. He been on a 15-year trip to the
} Deli Lama. So talk, but make it fast.  My time cost fifty buck for
} twenty minute. More, you want any whip and chains."
}
} "I've got information that there's a fortune stashed here. I got it
} from a friend of yours that escaped from this factory. Somehow he
} happened to get dead. You wouldn't know anything about that, would
} you?"
}
} "Yeah, I would. Some gray offed him in the Mall Center Outlet Plaza,
} front of fifty witness. Him and two old ladies, and most of the police
} tactical unit." She chuckled, creating 7.5 Richter tremors in her
} piedmont. "If I knew who it was, I'd give him a job for free. Anyone
} whacks that many pigs, he be OK with Coquette."
}
} On a hunch, I looked inside the wallet that had been the property of
} the former cookie embezzler and the present Stiff No. 1. The driver's
} license, credit cards, and Young Republicans membership card all had
} the same familiar name. An idea started buzzing, but it took one look
} at the swatter and retreated behind the Steuben glass.
}
} "You know what Won Hung Lo looks like?"
}
} "Like I say, I never seen him. Nobody have. He stay out the ho'in
} business, an I stay out the Young Prepublicans. So you want sometin or
} not?"
}
} "Yeah. I want the whole deal. The fortune and all the cookies. I own
} this business." I waved the YR card under what I thought was her
} nose. "You see, I'm Won Hung Lo. And you've got a debt to pay."
}
} "Like what?"
}
} "You owe the Oracle a box of Keebler E. L. Fudge and a set of
} velvet-lined handcuffs. With extra fudge."


318-02    (15532 dist, 3.0 mean)
Selected-By: Joshua.R.Poulson@cyber.widener.edu

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

> O great Oracle, who trips the light fantastic with the best of them
> tell me:
>
> Why are there instructions on top of a can of Coca-Cola?  They read:
> 1. LIFT TAB
> 2. PULL FORWARD
> 3. PUSH BACK
>
> Do they really serve some greater purpose?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

}   In 1962, when the Coca Cola Company was first experimenting with pull
} tabs that don't come off (for NASA, actually), they came up with a
} design nearly identical to what they use now.  A case of the new cans
} was brought to a meeting of the board of directors, where the chairman
} promptly ripped the tab clean off a can.  He was left, of course, with
} an unopenable can of Coke, a useless scrap of tin, and a bleeding
} finger.  The other executives joined in the assault on the case, and
} eventually one of them managed to LIFT TAB and PULL FORWARD.  In his
} excitement, however, he forgot to PUSH BACK, and some rather expensive
} oral surgery was required.
}   When the melee was over, there were seven wounded company directors,
} two open cans of Coke, and one ex-director of packaging.  A few years
} later, a company lawyer suggested instructions on the can, and in the
} '70's, the can now known and loved the world over was introduced.
}   The sad fact of the matter (sad for you, actually kind of funny for
} me) is that you -- your species, _Homo sapiens_, mankind, humans -- are
} pretty stupid.  Well...  very stupid.  Stupid enough that you need
} instructions like how to open a Coke can, or use a moist towelette after
} eating spareribs ("1.Remove towelette from package.  2.  Unfold.  3.
} Wipe hands and face."), or close a carton of ice cream ("Close this flap
} first.").
}   You may take some comfort in knowing that, although the stupidest
} species ever to manage to get a spacecraft off the ground (the Delfini,
} who consider Jerry Lewis a comic genius, are your only close
} competition), humans will never be attacked by any of the thousands of
} civilizations in the galaxy who possess the capability to do so.  Aliens
} get too big of a kick from monitoring American executives trying to
} figure out how to spell "LIFT TAB" in Finnish (and of course from
} kidnapping and scaring the wits out of humans too stupid to open a can
} even with instructions) to ever want to harm that giant Stoogefest in
} Space that you call the Earth.
}   You owe the Oracle a case of 7-Up.  In bottles, please.


318-03    (36430 dist, 2.4 mean)
Selected-By: nolan@helios.unl.edu (Harold the Foot)

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

> Quo vadis ?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Ah-ha!  Thought you could fool the old Oracle eh?  You'll have to do
} better than just scrambling the letters of your question!  Unless of
} course you're a mere mortal, in which case give up.  It's hopeless
} to try to fool the All Knowing Oracle.
}
} Now back to the question.  Let's see... there it is:
}
} is Quad vo?
}
} Well of course not.  Quad whiskey is just about the worst whiskey
} money can buy (and a lot of money at that!).  It's nothing more
} than distilled beer.  On top of that, it's been left sitting in used,
} fire damaged oak barrels at the back of their warehouse for over
} twenty-five years!  Who wants to drink distilled beer that's been
} sitting in burnt barrels for over 25 years?
}
} You owe the Oracle a new word-scramble book and a jug of Uncle Jed's
} 15 day old VO Whiskey (or, if you can afford it, a Bud).


318-04    (46321 dist, 2.4 mean)
Selected-By: nolan@helios.unl.edu (Harold the Foot)

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

> Oh one who spugest most pure:
>
> Where is cross eyed Mary today?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} NAAO=Normal Assumed Air of Omnipresence
} WIRT=what im really thinking.
}
} NAAO: SPUGEST?!?!?  How dare you, you infintesimal, gummy drop of
}    smegma!! (wirt: what the *hell* does 'spugest' mean??)
}
} NAAO: I am feeling merciful, so I will forgive your sin and answer your
}    query. (wirt: well, i cant be sure the that ive really been
}    insulted, so i can take
}         a shot at being clever.)
}
} NAAO: now lets see, mary...mary...mary....hmm. Star Trek episode? no...
}   (wirt: man, this sounds lame even to me.)
}
} NAAO: well, lemme get my pan-galactic phone/cook book.
}       (some sentient species like to eat other sentient species, but
}       are polite enough to call first)
}       <THUMP> OW!! My F***ING FOOT!
}   (wirt: what a klutz)
}
} NAAO: <strain> <WHUMP>! phew! got it on the table. <flip> <flip>
}       ok, lessee...Club Foot Larry <flip> <flip> <flip> Hare Lipped
}       Terry... <flip> ahhh... Cross Eyed Mary.
}  (wirt: what a genius. i can look through a book, i am overqualified to
}  do this)
}
} NAAO: I got some bad news for you.  She moved a few years ago, and her
}       forwarding address was the planet know locally as Ultav.
}       (fourth planet around a nice sized sun locally known as "the
}       sun") anyway, some dudes from Vault (from a sun they also called
}       "the sun") worked up a real appetite and ate the entire
}       population of Ultav. They didn't even call first either.  bummer.
}       (and she had just spent all that money on corrective ocular
}       surgery)
}
}   (wirt: what the hell, its worth a shot)
}
} You owe the Oracle a VHS copy of the Twilight Zone episode "To Serve
} Man"


318-05    (15433 dist, 3.1 mean)
Selected-By: well!well!ewhac@apple.com (Leo 'Bols Ewhac' Schwab)

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

> If I am here, then who is there, or is it the other way around ?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} A strip of tiny shoreline.  Fiery sun beating hot strokes upon the
} earth's fragile skin.  Far above, seabirds screeching chants to the
} waters.  Light dappling against the breaking waves, igniting a spectrum
} of sparks over the sea's white fingers.  Water claws the beach, rakes
} its grasp against the flesh of the cherub island.   The tang of spray
} kisses the air, and from everywhere, a whisper...
}
} "I am here."
}
} A white palace.  Crisp evergreens spreading their gentle needles to
} nestle in the frozen forest floor.
}
} Angry sun etches wicked tendrils of fire into an endless stretch of
} sand. Color catches the desert floor in its intense, merciless grasp,
} dazzled, spellbound.
}
} Shadowed in the fanlike choir of grand, primevil ferns, the moist
} swelter lays its heavy hand upon the young fruit trees, already laden
} with their yield.
}
} In the totality, a whisper...
}
} "I am here."
}
} Wasteland.  Debris.  Ruined faceless forms, clothed in suffering.
} Slacmouthed and sullen.  Open haunting stares.  Open gaping wounds.
} Lost forever beyond a chasm that madness cannot reach.
}
} "I am here."
}
} Weblike nebulas, dancing galaxies, interspersed throughout the
} grandness of unending night.  A waltz of miracles suspended in
} infinity.
}
} "I am here."
}
} Void.  Dark.  Silent.  Vacuum.
}
} "I am here."
}
} "I am here."
}
} Desolation.
}
} "I am there."


318-06    (53620 dist, 2.3 mean)
Selected-By: gt2126b@prism.gatech.edu (PETROSKY,WILLIAM T)

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

> Where can I find a Dairy Queen?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} The Oracle is perturbed by your question...........
}
} If you mean the ice cream stand....why are you bothering me?
} 1. Dial 555-1212 and ask
} 2. Let your fingers do the walking..
}
} If you mean a lady whose succulent breasts yield the most delicious
} milk in the world, an endless supply fresh from the nipples, from
} a scientific point of view find out whos ordering the largest bra size
} mail order from Sears.


318-07    (35440 dist, 2.6 mean)
Selected-By: gt2126b@prism.gatech.edu (PETROSKY,WILLIAM T)

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

> O subtle and mysterious Oracle, who has traveled the ether and knows of
> all things temporal and spiritual, I ask thee a favor of interpreting
> the following dream:
>
>       I was floating in a red sleep of furry machine tools
>       when suddenly the silence of the noise deafened the
>       bright colors of the perfume, upon which I awoke to
>       find myself in the cold sweat of reason.
>
> What does this mean, O mighty Oracle?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} This is easy; let me show you:
}
} floating => water
} red => russian
} furry + russian => bear
} tools => male genatilia
} machine + male genatilia => vibrator
} water + vibrator => type which squirts water if used for long enough
} bear + {type which ..... enough} = bear shaped {type which .....
} enough}
}
} Wow! What an interesting first line:
} A bear shaped vibrator which squirts water if used for long enough.
}
} silence => lambs
} noise + lambs => baa-baa
}
} 2nd line: suddenely deafened by a "Baa-Baa"
}
} bright => intelligent => me
} colours => not this VDU
} => colours + bright = FALSE
} perfume => smell
} false + smell => deodorant
}
} 3rd line: woke up upon a deodorant
}
} It can therefore be deduced that you dreamed of a bear shaped vibrator
} which squirts water if used for long enough, but when woken up by a
} piss-head looking for a bar, you found you were actually lying on your
} deodorant (not a vibrator) and you were covered in sweat (not water
} squirted from a vibrator).
}
} Boy, you have wierd dreams. Ever thought of having a sex change?


318-08    (13462 dist, 3.3 mean)
Selected-By: John.McCartney@ebay.sun.com ( The Lion of Symmetry )

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

> How can I break a blackened, squacking compiler?  Or is it a chicken
> escaped from a barbeque?  I can't tell.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} If it's a chicken which escaped from a barbecue, then, contrary to
} expectations formed from watching summer action films, it will not go
} looking for revenge. It will instead go looking for a quiet place to
} hide and recover, then start building a new life for itself.
}
} Any compiler, squacking or otherwise, _will_ seek revenge. They're
} measpirited, ornery beasts in the best of times, maliciously twisting
} programmers' intentions, issuing error statements where no error
} occurs, and keeping mum about particularly nasty bugs they happen to
} uncover. So be forewarned: if you're going to break a compiler, you'd
} better make sure it stays broken.
}
} The best way to do that is with firefighting equipment: an axe and a
} hose. First, disconnect the computer from any networks, to cut off
} means of escape. (Too many people forget this part and, sooner or
} later, pay the price of their carelessness.) Then load the compiler
} into memory by having it work on a monstrously long program you've
} prepared as bait. While it's compiling, remove the front panel from the
} computer, and then hose down the CPU thoroughly. This should cause the
} compiler to sieze up in surprise. The lights in the room may also go
} out, so remember to bring a flashlight. Quickly, before the compiler
} has a chance to recover, hack into the CPU and the memory units with
} the axe, until you're exhausted. With a final grunt, remove the axe
} from the hunk of twisted metal, and look carefully for any signs of
} life. Stand up, and walk slowly towards the door. Turn your back for a
} moment, then whirl back to see if it was playing possum and is now
} springing to attack you. If so, hurl the axe at it, striking the final
} blow deep into its foul heart. Finally, say something witty like,
} "Compiler finished. No errors," and walk away into the rolling credits.
}
} You owe the Oracle an optimizing, vectorizing, parallelizing Forth
} compiler.


318-09    (14443 dist, 3.2 mean)
Selected-By: well!well!ewhac@apple.com (Leo 'Bols Ewhac' Schwab)

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

> Who is Fedoso?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} I shall answer this question, despite the fact that you forgot to
} grovel.  Just don't let it happen a second time.
}
} Throughout history, there have been several people of note named
} Fedoso.  Here is a brief chronology of them:
}
} 14955 BC:Og Fedoso discovers fire.  Unfortunately, he hasn't discovered
}          the stick yet, and his arm soon burns to a cinder.
}
} 758 AD:  Bruce Fedoso pulls a large sword out of a boulder, but
}          then gives the sword to his neighbor, Arthur, to have it
}          cleaned.  Arthur becomes King of the Britons, and has Bruce
}          put to death to cover his tracks.
}
} 1491 AD: Vinnie Fedoso, as part of an advance mission for Columbus,
}          lands on what is now known as Grand Bahama Island.  Getting
}          really loaded on Pina Coladas, he forgets all about his
}          role as a scout, and is never heard from again.
}
} 1855 AD: Jacques Fedoso III becomes the first person to experiment with
}          backwards masking.  Unfortunately, he does it in book form,
}          and his first novel _Natas Pihsrow_ is a huge failure.
}
} 1908 AD: Conner Fedoso replies to a practical joke be his lab friend in
}          the patent office, then unknown Albert Einstein, "Ee, Ah'm soo
}          scared."  Conners' heavy Scottish brogue gives Einstein an
}          idea, which led to the noted physicist gaining great fame.
}
} 1991 AD: Stig Fedoso writes an e-mail letter to the Oracle, trying
}          to trick him with questions about his illustrious, and
}          usually incompetent family.
}
} Well, there you go Stig.  I'll admit it's not much of a family tree,
} but at least you fit in well.
}
} You owe the Oracle the family hatchet.


318-10    (09520 dist, 2.6 mean)
Selected-By: Karyanta

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

> How come IBM won't reimburse me for a plane trip they said they would
> pay for, two years ago?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} You must have missed this memo:
}
} To:   All Employees
} From: Accounting
} Re:   Travel Reimbursement
} Date: Two years ago
}
} Effective for the next three days, travel expenses incurred by
} employees will be ignored.  In a continuing effort to reduce its
} operational costs, IBM Corporation has introduced a new policy of
} Random Revision of Reimbursements.  At unpredictable intervals, all
} employee benefit rules will be changed in some inexplicable way for a
} short period of time.  The accounting department believes that this new
} policy will save IBM Corp. hundreds of millions of dollars without
} effecting accounting department management in the least.
}
} Have a nice day!
}
} You owe the Oracle an aisle seat.


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