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Internet Oracularities #472

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472, 472-01, 472-02, 472-03, 472-04, 472-05, 472-06, 472-07, 472-08, 472-09, 472-10


Usenet Oracularities #472    (4 votes, 2.6 mean)
Compiled-By: Joshua.R.Poulson@cyber.Widener.EDU
Date: Sun, 23 Aug 1992 17:57:55 -0500

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472-01    (03010 dist, 2.5 mean)
Selected-By: mzintl@plasma.ps.uci.edu (Michael Zintl)

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

> Why is it that as soon as you're doing what you wanted to be doing,
> you want to be doing something else ???

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Strange, when I sent a request off to the oracle server, I wanted to
} reply to the question it was going to send back to me. But now I don't
} want to.
}
} I don't know if you owe the Oracle anything.


472-02    (00130 dist, 3.8 mean)
Selected-By: mzintl@plasma.ps.uci.edu (Michael Zintl)

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

> Oh most magnificent Oracle, please answer this question:
>
> I remember a fragment of a dream I had last night, please tell me the
> ending:
>
> (Scene: The Starship Enterprise)
>
> Crusher:  You know I never liked you Wesley.
> Wesley:   (whining) But Mom.
> Worf:     I recommend that we kill him instantly.
> Picard:   (stern, but sympathetic) I understand your feelings Mr. Worf,
>           but I have a duty to the crew of this ship.
> Riker:    (annoyed) Then the thing to do is tie him up and cut his dick
>           off.
> Troi:     How would such humiliation feel to you Wesley?
> Wesley:   (whining) Mom, make them stop.
> Crusher:  I agree, off with his cock.
> Picard:   Well then, we have a concensus, make it so, Mr. Worf.
>
> I awoke with a big smile on my face, please let me know what happened.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} <cut to sick bay.  Wesley is strapped to medical bench.  Dr. Crusher is
} attaching various monitors, presumably to measure pain levels.  Worf is
} standing by with a truly nasty-looking Klingon blade.  Troi, Picard,
} and Riker are looking on.>
}
} Wesley:       Hey, c'mon, this isn't funny!
}
} Riker:        We're not laughing, are we, Mr. Crusher?
}
} <Worf laughs and moves in for the kill.  Dr. Crusher opens a small door
} on the monitoring device, then she and Worf back away in surprise.>
}
} Crusher:      Wesley!  Goodness, I never knew....
}
} Worf:         This is truly the weapon of a warrior!
}
} <Troi takes a closer look.  Her lower lip catches between her teeth as
} an eerie light enters her eyes.>
}
} Troi:         Captain, is this operation necessary?  I really need to
}               talk to Wesley....  Good grief, it's getting LARGER! Yes!
}
} <Geordi and Data enter, carrying a strange device...possibly a warp
} drive, possibly a toaster.>
}
} Geordi:       Captain, we found this in Wesley's quarters.
}               We're not sure what to make of it.
}
} Picard:       What is it?
}
} Data:         My analysis indicates that it is a Ferengi marital device
}               of some sort.
}
} Riker:        FERENGI?!?  Worf, take the scrotum as well.
}
} Wesley:       Hey!
}               OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW...........!
}
} Troi:         Such a friggin waste.....
}
} You owe the Oracle whatever it is you smoke before bed.


472-03    (02200 dist, 2.5 mean)
Selected-By: mzintl@plasma.ps.uci.edu (Michael Zintl)

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

> Oh Oracacle of fame and fortune, controller of the Jackpot, wizard of
> the lotto, card shark to the Nth degree, master of the lucky 7, and
> grand Poobah of Bingo, if you deem to share with even the tinyest scrap
> of wisdom, I will be eternally grateful.  What does it take to come
> home a winner after a 3 day outing in Vegas?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Ownership of the casino.
}
} You owe the Oracle 10%.


472-04    (20200 dist, 2.0 mean)
Selected-By: "Dale A. Charletta" <75725.440@CompuServe.COM>

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

> Oh mighty Oracle, what's up?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} 42.
}
} Your question, devoid of words, says little.  Too bad, for I am
} omniscient, and know all.  In lieu of revealing to you the time and
} place of the horrid car-crash which will kill you, I instead shall
} put forth a parable, that you may ponder your place relative to
} free, soaring spirits:
}
} Throughout my flying carrer I've had lots of experiences
} flying with the big birds, and the thing that I find
} most fascinating about it is, that in most cases, the hawk
} or eagle seems to regard me as one of them.  It's like
} going on a wild animal safari, jumping out of the jeep and
} hunting prey with the lions. I'm in thier world, not
} just looking at them from the other side of a fence.
}
}  I've seen red-tails look right at my face from just beyond
} my outside tip as we circle together in a thermal,
} and they seem to be aware that the thing that's in control
} of that big bird is one of those things that normaly
} walks around on two legs.
}
}  I've seen a group of young red-tails line up single file on
} the edge of a soarbable knoll, and  one by one,
} stand still, stretch thier wings out to full span, and then
} take three or four steps down the hill on thier claws
} and launch, just like hang gliders. True story! They were
} imitating hang gliders!
}
} A few years ago in, in the late fall, I was soaring at Ft.
} Funston on a smooth, buoyant straight westerly day.
} Just over the golf course,  I noticed one of the locals
} (red-tailed hawk) parked over the trees at my altitude,
} probably looking for lunch. ( I believe biologists refer to
} this maneuver as "kiting" ). Anyway, I
} approached the hawk from the north and as I got closer I
} noted that it was looking sideways at me, but
} showed no intention of moving. I guessed that it had been
} around  enough hang gliders in its carrer that it
} wasn't bothered with my presence. I got close enough so that
} as I did a gentle 180 away from it, my outside
} tip came to within a few feet of it. My intent was to
} convince the hawk to forget about lunch for a few
} minutes and to come and play me with me.  I looked back
} after rolling out of the turn and, as I had hoped,
} there was my red-tailed buddy, following me.  I cruised
} north to the end of the bowl in front of the golf
} course and began a slow roll back to the south.  Keeping
} formation,  the hawk began to turn just as I did, so
} that when we'd both rolled out, I was following him (her?).
} As we came upon the south end of the bowl, she
} began to roll back to the north, which I mimicked, so that
} she  was again following me.
}
} We repeated this routine several times, creating, as far as
} I knew, the world's first impromptu avian/ human
} arieal ballet. I was amazed at the connection I had made
} with this untamed animal.
}
} After several minutes of this, my new flying buddy
} remembered that she was hungry, broke our formation,
} and headed back to her original "kiting"  spot.  Since I
} wasn't ready to stop playing yet, I climbed just a bit
} higher than her, turned just a bit downwind,  rolled out and
} lined up on her six-o-clock and passed about 3
} feet over her head. During this close pass, she never
} altered her position,  and her head movements
} indicated that she was alternating between scanning the
} ground just below her, and attempting to look up
} and behind her as I approached from her six-o-clock high. I
} noted that it was difficult for her to twist her
} neck enough to see above or behind her.
}
} I have learned that biologists try not anthropomorphisize
} animal behavior; that is to say; to not interpret an
} animals behavior or motivation as anything  resembling our
} own. However, I'm sure that my red-tailed
} friend must have found my close passes to be a good comprise
} of her need to search for lunch and a
} desire to clown around with me. I made several of these
} passes, with my basetube passing as close as 3 feet
} over her back (upper fuselage, torso?) , and she never
} flinched.
}
} The temptation was too much. I knew that  my friend would
} soon spot a tasty, warm, writhing mammal in the
} trees and dive for lunch, or another hang glider would come
} along and break up our party. I had an
} opportunity to do what non-pilots can't even dream about.
} I had to do it.
}
} On my final pass, I started my run just a little bit lower.
} The wind was straight west at about 20 mph. Our sink
} rates were almost exactly the same in the buoyant ridge-
} lift. I pulled in just a bit, increasing my closure rate
} to a still dream-like 2 mph. Time stretched, warmed to a
} diffused glow.  The hawks attentions were no
} longer half-focused on the ground. She tried to looked up
} over her back, at me. Wings twisting in smooth
} correction of airspeed, to match mine. Closure rate almost
} imperceptible.  Her wings now directly  under
} me, one foot below my basetube.
}
} I reached down with my right hand and lightly tapped her on
} the back.
}
} A sudden realization must have come over the hawk, like when
} a puppy and a kitten play with each other,
} then realize that thier instincts tell them that it's not
} the way thier supposed to behave.
} As I passed in front  of her, she rolled to the right,
} almost ninety degrees, and perfunctorily extended her
} talons. It wasn't a panicked or frightened gesture, but more
} like the hawk  body-language equivalent of
} "It's been fun, but if my mate catches me fooling around
} with you,  you're in big trouble. So, leave...now, or
} my instincts will force me to tear through your Oakley
} Factory Pilot Eyeshades and  scratch your eyes out!"
}
} So I left.
}
} I headed back to launch ...back to the world of humans, and
} thought about what I'd done.  Oh, sure, it was a
} beautiful thing, and I could have kept my hands to myself.
} But maybe I was doing just what the writer of
} "High Flight" had suggested. To "slip the surly bonds of
} earth...reach out a hand, and touch the face
} (back?) of God."


472-05    (22000 dist, 1.5 mean)
Selected-By: jgm@cs.brown.edu (Jonathan Monsarrat)

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

> ?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} !#(^#@#!!


472-06    (22000 dist, 1.5 mean)
Selected-By: "Stephen C. Miller" <stcmille@copper.ucs.indiana.edu>

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

> OhOracleMostViceandallthat. They are after me, what should I do?
> Answer fast please.
> *Crash*
> No.. no.. NO!
> *BANG*
> *click*

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Go hide, or are you dead already?


472-07    (01210 dist, 3.0 mean)
Selected-By: asbestos@nwu.edu (Michael A. Atkinson)

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

> O, most magnificent and merciful Oracle, master of the universe,
> protector of the meek, whose nose I am not worthy to pick and whose
> faeces are an untrammelled delight, and whose peacocks keep me awake
> all hours with their noisy lovemaking, I beseech thee, tell thy humble
> supplicant the name of the section between the triglyphs in the frieze
> section of a classical Doric entablature.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} That would be the G spot.
}
} You owe the oracle a night of passion with a classical Doric
} entablature.


472-08    (01210 dist, 3.0 mean)
Selected-By: Todd Radel <radel@asel.udel.edu>

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

> Oh great Oracle, whose brain is so large that it takes 3 weeks to
> drive around it!
>
> Since you know everything, surely you must also know what I am about
> to ask you, so I need not write it.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Exactly.


472-09    (02200 dist, 2.5 mean)
Selected-By: buck@sunyit.edu (Jesse Buckley)

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

>       Please let it be known to me, how might I understand the
> structure of this mailing address:
> !{gatech,ihnp4}!petro!ucmsa!ucm-request
> I have only worked with : <name>@<whereto>.<>.<>
> I need to send a letter to this place, yet I know not how.
> I ask thy self to pool thy great and vast wisdom to help me in my hour
> of need I thank thee oh great one....

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Ah, oh lesser supplicant, such words are not from a mundane "mailing
} address".  Rather, they are the purest language of computer to
} computer... that particular passage translates to:
}
} "Hey, giTUYhy6t6, (a computer's true-name is rather unusual), I've got
} some luser here who wants to talk to one of huhYTR675FG's pets. (that
} is how they view you mortals.)  Should I send it through?"
}
} The response was: 765485449219.GF05574@screwsloose.dc.gov
} Which translates to: "What, and let another h78hk (loosely translates
} to "dirty, grubby animal") have its way with him?  No way.  Make like
} the network's out.  If he tries again, zap all his files.  That'll
} teach it."
}
} So if you should find your files undergoing strange damage, you'd
} better make nice, quickly.  Try sacrificing a couple calculators to a
} clean 120v power source, that usually works.
}
} You owe the oracle an internet connection in bernaise sauce.


472-10    (01111 dist, 3.5 mean)
Selected-By: CLHP19@VAXB.STRATHCLYDE.AC.UK

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

> Yo Oracle!
>
> How much wood would Chuck Berry chuck if Chuck Berry was a woodchuck?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Yo dude.
}
} Down at Indiana at the iuvax,
} Where censorship of supplicants is rather lax,
} An omnipotent being name of "Oracle" got
} Another "woodchuck question" - expect a *ZOT*.
}
} Go, go Orrie go
} Go, go Orrie go
} Go, go Orrie go
} Go, go Orrie go go go -
} Orrie B Goode.
}
} Now for all you with an IQ less than Nikkei Dow,
} Don't ask a "woodchuck question" - I'll dissuade you now.
} I've reprimanded supplicants for asking less -
} Believe me, for the cleaners it was quite a mess.
}
} So,
} Go, go mortal go
} Go, go mortal go
} Go, go mortal go
} Go, go mortal go go go -
} Just go.
}
} You owe the Oracle a decent cover version of "Rock & Roll Music".
}
} +--------------------------------------------------------------------+
} |    _          The Usenet Oracle (ake Orrie B. Goode)               |
} |   / \                                                              |
} |   \ /         All views expressed here are the truth and don't     |
} |    Y          you forget it.                                       |
} | ---+---                                                            |
} |    |          "I don't need a witicism in _my_ .sig"               |
} |    |              - T.U.O.                                         |
} +--------------------------------------------------------------------+


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