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Internet Oracularities #582

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Usenet Oracularities #582    (62 votes, 3.1 mean)
Compiled-By: "Steve Kinzler" <kinzler@cs.indiana.edu>
Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1993 00:10:43 -0500

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send mail to oracle@cs.indiana.edu with the word "help" in the subject
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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:
   582
   2 1 3 4 3   5 3 3 4 1

582   62 votes bfnc1 6knb2 67eel 97dhg 7jkb5 jpb52 18nka 24egq kjj31 396hr
582   3.1 mean  2.6   2.7   3.6   3.4   2.8   2.1   3.5   4.0   2.1   3.9


582-01    (bfnc1 dist, 2.6 mean)
Selected-By: Ian Davis

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

> Dear Oracle,
>       where does snow go when it melts?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} An interesting question that taxes the limits of my experience. From my
} seat in the Great Chamber of the Oracle, I cannot see the snow outside.
} But I do see the snow that is tracked all over my chamber floor by
} Disciples that do not wipe their feet and I ask that you shake your
} boots off before you come back to ask another question. Furthermore,
} when I wish to go on vacation, I build myself a SnowOracle at my throne
} and the Disciples are often confused until the point when the false
} Oracle melts...
}
} But I jump ahead of myself. I little about the process and cycle of
} snow to water.
}
} Snow and Ice are two similar things, for they are made of frozen water
} that have precipitated at cold temperatures. Except when you are hit
} with a snowball it doesn't put you in the hospital. The water for both
} snow and ice evaporated from just about anywhere in the world, for
} water just does that. That's why it is so muggy these days.
}
} The snow itself falls on the mountains and provides a nice scene to
} behold on Mount Olympus, so my Disciples tell me. According to the
} heretical advertisers, the snow that melts winds up in various beers
} and mountain spring water products, but I tell you now that this is an
} absolute falsehood. American beer would not taste as bad if it truly
} did.
}
} My answer is this: humans are 90% water. Snow is 100% water. When 10%
} of the water in snow evaporates, it becomes human and walks off. At
} that point, the snow can go wherever the human wants to go.
}
} I hope I have answered your question, now bring me some cheese fries.


582-02    (6knb2 dist, 2.7 mean)
Selected-By: John.McCartney@EBay.Sun.COM ( The Lion of Symmetry )

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

> Do you keep Steve Kinzler's brain in a small jar on your desk?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Oh, heavens no!  Steve Kinzler keeps his brain in a small jar on his
} desk. I've seen it.  Very pretty paper weight it makes.  You *do* have
} to look very closely to see it, though.
}
} [ Actually, I keep it in a plastic skull on my shelf.  You have to
}   peer closely to see it through the eye sockets.  -sk ]


582-03    (67eel dist, 3.6 mean)
Selected-By: John.McCartney@EBay.Sun.COM ( The Lion of Symmetry )

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

> It was a dark room.
>
> He sat crouched over the keyboard, his body a shilouette against
> the eerie amber glow of his monitor. Around him disks whirred, and
> he smiled.
>
> The old vax in the corner spontaneously rebooted for the 476th time.
>
> Soon it would be done.
>
> Yes, it had taken him a long time, but it would be worth it. All
> those months of collecting questions designed to turn the mind to
> cheese - but now the time was near.
>
> Several years ago he mailed one of those questions to the Oracle,
> just out of curiosity. It caused havoc when he first unleashed it,
> and it was still doing its job. "Woodchucks!", he mouthed silently,
> savouring the memory.
>
> But that was just a taste of what was to come!  Thousands more
> questions awaited - and soon they too would have the same effect.
>
> He glanced at another screen - five minutes to go.
>
> The idea came to him one night while he was reading
> alt.binaries.pictures.misc - all he had to do was flood the oracle
> with meaningless questions - questions so bad that the poor
> incarnations could never produce an even mildly-humo(u)rous reply
> - and his auto-answer program was ready to deal with the real
> questions he'd get in return - it could produce replies so dull
> that readers would complain, and never bother with the oracle again.
>
> Soon there would be no oracle.
>
> And then it would be all his.
>
> He trembled in anticipation as he quickly checked the messages
> which would eventually propel him to net.stardom -
>
>     Control: rmgroup rec.humor.oracle
>
>     Control: newgroup rec.omniscience moderated
>
> He glanced again at the other screen -
>
> Two minutes.
>
> He looked again at the first of the many files that in a few minutes
> would begin the assault on the so-called oracle -
>
> >  moo
>
> He grinned. Not one single question had a point to it - never mind
> a grovel!
>
> And -
>
> >
>
> Yes, he liked that one a lot.
>
> And -
>
> > :wq!
>
> - It may have been an accident, but it had a lot going for it, he
> thought.
>
> And -
>
> > chuck wood would could huck mush cook if a cook mush wook muck chuck?
>
> He rolled his head back and laughed manically - wait till they get
> *that* one !
>
> One.
>
> The terminal beeped, just as the vax in the corner rebooted it self yet
> again.
>
> He stopped. Now it was time. He wiped his hand against his forehead,
> and sat bolt-upright, hands resting on the keyboard. And then, like
> a great organist, he began to type frantically, humming louder and
> louder, typing faster and faster, fingers a-blur, with no sound
> but that of the keys, clicking like a tap-dancer on speed. His eyes
> scanned the screen, his fingers whirred, his mind locked in
> concentration, humming, typing, thinking -
>
> He stopped. He raised his right arm, and held his index finger over
> the return key....
>
> ... grinned ...
>
> ...and struck it.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} On the other side of the Universe, the Oracle sat meditating.  It
} really liked this ZenMOO thing It had on one of Its mental
} pseudo-terminals.  It has been idle for 47 days while Its Preisthood
} answers questions for It. They would not disturb the Oracle unless a
} very Unusual Question was asked. The Oracle smiled inwardly.
}
} On another pseudo-terminal, the Oracle incremented the Sacred
} Accumulator to 478.  It laughed to Itself as It thought about that
} mystery VAX out there somewhere rebooting itself into oblivion.  And
} the Oracle was in control of it.
}
} Suddenly, alarms went off inside the Oracle's mind!  One of the Preists
} had sent a cry of help to the Oracle.  Somebody was sending in
} questions designed to turn the brains of the Preists into something
} resembling an all-vegetable beef substitute!  The question read:
}
} >  moo
}
} Oh, the humanity!  Who could be doing such an Evil thing?  Another
} alarm went off.  And another.  And another!  The Oracle's Preists were
} getting incomprehensible questions like
}
} >
}
} and
}
} >  :wq!
}
} Then the Oracle saw who was doing this.  They left their tell-tale
} signature in one of the questions:
}
} > chuck wood would could huck mush cook if a cook mush wook muck chuck?
}
} It can't be!  It's the Woodchuck Supplicant again!  The Oracle could
} feel the Preists screaming and sent soothing thoughts out to them.  The
} Oracle would not let this happen to Its Preists.  It incremented the
} Accumulator while It thought.
}
} The Oracle knew it must use the Zot once again.  Zot v2.0 had proven
} itself unstoppable, but it was a devastating weapon.  The Oracle
} thought about the consequences.  Would the Supplicants rebel?  Would
} they loose their faith in the Oracle?  Are any of the Supplicants
} scum-sucking, narrow-minded, right-wing, Right-to-Lifers?
}
} "Nah," thought the Oracle.  "Who cares.  I'll just fry the sucker."
} The Oracle didn't want any right-wing Supplicants anyhow.  And It knew
} that they were all getting tired of the lame woodchuck questions.  The
} Oracle brought up the XZot application on one of Its virtual
} pseudo-terminals.  In the "Target" box, the Oracle put, "Woodchuck
} Supplicant."  Its finger hovered over the OK button.  The Oracle
} hesitated.  Just for good measure, the Oracle incremented the Sacred
} Accumulator then clicked the button.
}
} On the other side of the Universe, the Woodchuck Supplicant was sitting
} back in his chair.  Satisfied with the fury he had unleashed, he was
} now enjoying a kippered beef and peanut butter sandwich on toasted
} pumpernickel.
}
} "So the Germans put cocoa in pumernickel," thought the Woodchuck
} Supplicant. "They're crazy!  I knew I liked them for some reason."
}
} Just then, the old VAX rebooted spontaneously for the 480th time.  The
} Supplicant laughed maniacally.  He leaned towards his terminal and
} checked his mail.  He had a message from the Usenet Oracle.  But it
} can't be!  He designed those questions to turn their minds to mush.
} The Oracular Preisthood should not be able to respond.  He had to look
} at this message. His finger touched the Return key, pressing it
} downwards and as the contacts inside the keyboard touched, there was a
} blinding flash of light that came from nowhere and everywhere at the
} same time.  And there was a deafening noise that sounded like a cannon.
}  No, it sounded like a thunderclap.  No, it sounded like...
}                                                                    ##
}       #############                                                ##
}       #       ####                                    #            ##
}      ##       ###                                     #            ##
}      #       ###                                     ##            ##
}             ####                 ####               ######         ##
}            ####                ##   ###            #######         ##
}            ###                ###    ###             ##            ##
}           ###                 ##      ##             ##            ##
}          ####                 ##      ##             ##            ##
}         ####                  ##      ##             ##            #
}         ###                   ##      ##             ##            #
}        ###         #          ##      ##             ##
}       ####        ##          ###     ##             ##            #
}      ####        ##            ###   ##              ### #         ##
}      ##############             ######               ####          ##
}
} And the Woodchuck Supplicant ceased to exist.  The voice of the Oracle
} could be heard throughout the lands.  And it said, "The Oracle has
} decreed that there shall be no more woodchuck questions!  Supplicants
} who ask questions about woodchucks shall receive the Zot immediately!"
}
} And so it was.  All the Supplicants were happy except for those who
} wanted to ask woodchuck questions and those who were Right-to-Lifers.
} All of those people left the Holy Temple of rec.humor.oracle and joined
} the alt.bitch.bitch.bitch cult.
}
} And the Oracle was happy, too.  He connected once again to ZenMOO and
} smiled inwardly.  Thinking peaceful thoughts, the Oracle decides that
} the old VAX has suffered enough and rewrites the Program of the Sacred
} Acuumulator so that it will reboot a DEC workstation instead.  "What
} exactly _IS_ ULTRIX," ponders the Oracle.
}
} Off in the back corner of a dark room, the old VAX comes up.  Its
} console says, "Login:"


582-04    (97dhg dist, 3.4 mean)
Selected-By: Ian Davis

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

> HELP!  I keep getting these stupid questions which treat me as if I'm
> some sort of omniscient being.  Your last response to this entreaty
> wasn't very helpful, as I hadn't even SENT any questions.  Please help.
>
> P. S.:  My friends Orhan Acel and Oscar Ravle are also having the same
> sort of problems.  What can we do?
>
> O. Robert Able               ===========================================
> orable@cs.indiana.edu        +  If you're reading this, you spend too  +
> Freshman,                    +  much time looking at .sigs             +
> University of Indiana        ===========================================

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} You think YOU guys have problems...
}
} --
} Steve Kunzler                   Director, Student Psychological Services
} kunzler@moose.cs.indiana.edu       "Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar!"
} No, I am NOT Steve Kinzler!!!       Freud ... or was it Groucho?


582-05    (7jkb5 dist, 2.8 mean)
Selected-By: David Sewell <dsew@lion.ccit.arizona.edu>

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

> Oh mighty and all-knowing Oracle, in the song 'The Joker', Steve Miller
> wrote:
>
> 'Some people call me the space cowboy.
>  Yea...
>  Some call me the gangster of love.
>  Some people call me Maurice.
>  Cause I speak of the pompotous of love.'
>
> I checked the liner notes and 'pompotous' is really what he wrote and
> sang.  Thus my question:
>
> "What the heck does 'pompotous' mean?"

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} pompotous /pum-pot'-es/ n. 1. A worm of the genus Pompotidae,
} found in Western Guinea and known to the be the sole source of
} sustenance of Herista veritos, the Giant Lava Mole.  2. Similar
} to an impetus, something which prompts action, but caused by
} chemicals produced by the body and/or microorganisms within it.
}
}       James Joyce used the word Pompotous, albeit in a
} corrupted form, in 'Ulysses':
} '...and he felt pompotously angry, and struck out at the rock and
} at the road until he felt better...'
}
} Therefore, the pompotous of love is the chemicals produced by the
} body which cause feelings of love and/or lust between two people.
}
} Alternatively, Mr. Miller may have fallen in love with Guinean worms.


582-06    (jpb52 dist, 2.1 mean)
Selected-By: forbes@ihlpf.att.com

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

> O Great Oracle, whose legs are long enough to reach the ground but
> whose nose isn't long enough to keep a pair of glasses from slipping, I
> have an important question to ask you.
>
> I cannot make vegetable soup right. It usually ends up tasting awful or
> killing a relative. I even put a watermelon in it once before I
> realized that it was a fruit. What are the right vegetables to put in
> vegetable soup?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Vegetable soup?  You're asking me, the Oracle, about VEGETABLE SOUP?
} Listen, mac, what kind of a wimp do you think I am?  I never eat
} VEGETABLE soup!  When I eat soup I eat manly soup!  With ground beef!
} Uncooked!  and raw lentils, and lots of salt, and marrow from pork
} neckbones soaked for hours and hours, and a can or two of beer for
} good measure!  Then maybe, just maybe, I'll put in a cut up carrot for
} a vegetable.  But only when there's already plenty of MEAT!
}
} If you want a good manly MEAT SOUP recipe, please supplicate me for
} it!


582-07    (18nka dist, 3.5 mean)
Selected-By: jgm@cs.brown.edu (Jonathan Monsarrat)

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

> O Wise one who pelts us with the shrapnel of wisdom, whose knowledge
> of the martial arts makes Chuck Norris look like a weenie pacifist,
>
> The other day, a friend of mine was robbed at fistpoint.  What could
> I do in the same position to keep from getting robbed?  How could I
> disarm my foe without making his fist go off?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

}     O insignificant supplicant, there are many paths to enlightenment
} you may blunder, stumble, and veer down, but you are off to a most
} inauspicious start. To begin simply:
}
}     1)   Travel naked.  You will _evidently_ have nothing to steal,
}          and only the most desperate of muggers is willing to perform
}          a body cavity search on mere speculation.  If, on the other
}          hand, your robber is deeply twisted and very lonely, show
}          him kindness, and he will be enriched.
}
}     2)   Travel poor.  In colder climes, nudity has unfortunate side
}          effects, not the least of which is chapping.  If your
}          assailant is so needy that he requires your clothing, give it
}          to him that he may know kindness and warmth.  The infestations
}          of vermin will also become his problem.
}
}     3)   Travel erratically.  Lurch, twitch, babble insensibly, shriek
}          like the demons of Hell are loose in your knickers.  "Aieee
}          they're HUGE and GETTTEMOFFME!!! Lizards! Bugs! URGGGGLe
}          WoooooEEEE Nelson hosing down the BASTIGES! Alien BASTIGES!
}          It's that simple! Garfle! Ni belquont delberpho; Wiphneyal!!"
}          You will provide entertainment for those around you, and may
}          suggest new schools of thought, lyrics, literature.
}
}     4a)  Travel armed, defensively.  There are many, many quality
}          discount armored vehicles on the international market as a
}          by-product of the end of the cold war.  It is a buyers market.
}          Most of them get terrible mileage, but you'll travel secure.
}
}     4b)  Travel armed, offensively.  Among the many important areas
}          to consider here are: projectiles, sharpened implements,
}          fragmentation devices, corrosive chemicals, biological
}          hazards, vicious animals, bludgeons, sarcasm, derision, fire,
}          and sex. You may combine many of these in innovative ways -
}          you may even become famous and earn a tidy profit, which no
}          one would DARE extort from you.  But this path does not lead
}          to wisdom, compassion, nor enlightenment.  It is, however,
}          both risky and a hell of a lot of fun.
}
}     5)   Travel armed, omnipotently.  You owe the oracle your wallet.


582-08    (24egq dist, 4.0 mean)
Selected-By: asbestos@nwu.edu (Michael A. Atkinson)

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

>     So Orrie old chum, what this "Bcc" business in the headers of my
> document.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} "Bcc" stands for Blind Carbon Copy.  But that doesn't tell you much.
} Sit back and learn a bit of Net lore.
}
} Back in the ancient, cloudy, misty days of the ancestors of the
} Internet, back around 1979, an old, worn-out blues musician used to
} warm his tired bones in the sun on Sproul Plaza at the University of
} California, Berkeley, from time to time putting his old harmonica to
} his mouth and playing a riff or two, and now and then saying "God
} bless you" to some kind soul who had thrown a coin in his battered old
} derby.
}
} Come December it grew cold, even in California, and the venerable
} blues man began looking for a building he could doze in without being
} thrown out.  Eventually he discovered the Computer Center, an ideal
} place because in those glorious days the only people using it were
} True Hackers who worked at night and slept during the day, mostly face
} down alongside their keyboards.  Once our protagonist had rescued an
} old Cal sweatshirt from a trash can and begun wearing it while he
} napped at a terminal station, no one questioned his right to be there.
}
} This old blues man, of course, was none other than Blind Carbon Copy.
}
} He had picked up the majority of his nickname back in the '20s, when
} as a boy he would sneak into the honky-tonks and listen to the sweet
} Delta blues he heard there, then sneak back home and practice what
} he'd learned.  One night when a young Al Jolson was performing, Bcc
} was so caught up in the music that he forgot to wait until he was home
} to practice, and when Al and the boys came out the stage door they
} found a young boy in the alley singing his heart out in a perfect
} imitation of the Master.  "Al, that boy just a carbon copy of you,"
} the bass man said, and the name stuck.
}
} Now Blind Carbon Copy wasn't blind, but did you ever hear of a Delta
} blues man who wasn't nicknamed Blind something?
}
} --Well, after a few days of napping in the Berkeley lab Bcc got
} curious about what all those red-eyed young-'uns was doing there, and
} he started moving from monitor to monitor and reading over people's
} shoulders.  He couldn't make much out of FORTRAN or C code, but every
} now and then he'd come upon someone reading his e-mail, and he'd read
} the message, and make a song out of it if he could, walking off into
} the center of the room and softly accompanying himself on his blues
} harp:
}
}     I've got a na-aasty bug, an' I'm feelin' mighty blue
}     <WaaAHHH-yaaa-yaaa, ya-aaa-aaa-WAAAA-aah-ahh>
}     I said mah code's got a big bug, makes me feel so goddam blue
}     <WaaAHHH-yaaa-yaaa, ya-aaa-aaa-WAAAA-aah-ahh>
}     Mah core's gone an' dumped me, said mah programmin' days was
}     through! <Bumpety-bumpety-bumpety bump bump BUMP.>
}
} His lyrics eventually worked their way into the bleary consciousnesses
} of the Berkeley hackers.  Dumbfounded at first, they quickly warmed to
} the idea of improvisational blues e-mail, and pretty soon got in the
} habit of calling Blind Carbon Copy over--when he was awake, of
} course--when they had received a particularly promising message that
} they wanted him to render.  Some of the more musical of the group got
} Bcc to teach them how to sing the blues too, and began doing their own
} riffs when Bcc was asleep or away.
}
} Well, the Berkeley group split up, as all things will; Bcc went back
} to Louisiana to live with his daughter's family, the hackers
} graduated, or got jobs, or became bums.  But whenever one of them sent
} e-mail to someone working with one of the old crowd, they'd attach a
} header reading, let's say, "Blind Carbon Copy: William Joy", to
} indicate that the recipient should call Bill Joy over to do the blues
} on the message.
}
} Before long the header was shortened to the standard "Bcc" in Berkeley
} sendmail.  But the tradition lives on.  Mostly nowadays the Bcc
} heading is just a ritual gesture, and few are the companies and
} schools where people know enough Net history to call for one of their
} colleagues to come sing their e-mail when they have a Bcc line.  But
} now you know, and you know what to do, and remember, above all, that
} even if you get funny looks when someone's reading over your shoulder
} and laying down that e-mail wail, there's an old Delta blues man,
} lying in a bed in an old-folks home in Baton Rouge now, who hears and
} is blessed every time you sing them.
}
} Blind Carbon Copy--part of your Internet heritage!
}
} (This Oracularity sponsored by the Internet Cultural Task Force, the
} Corporation for Public Broadcasting, and the Louisiana Office of
} Tourism.)


582-09    (kjj31 dist, 2.1 mean)
Selected-By: Todd Radel <radel@bach.udel.edu>

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

> What would happen if, god forbid, Beavis and Butt-Head became an
> incarnation of You?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Heh HEh.  Don't forget to wash your pe**s.
} Heh Heh.
}
} Heh, Heh, he said pe**s!!
} Heh HEh.  Pe**S.
} Pe**S.  Pe**S.  Pe**S.
} heh HEh.
}
} Heh heh.
}
} Heh Heh.   YOU owe the Oracle an M-80 and a frog.  Heh Heh.


582-10    (396hr dist, 3.9 mean)
Selected-By: Mark McCafferty <markm@gslmail.mincom.oz.au>

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

> Oracle Most Wise, whose triangles always sum to *at least* 180 degrees,
> please answer my humble query:
>
> Which version of Euclid's fifth proposition is your favourite?
>
> Sincerely,
>
> A. M. Junkie

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} I'm rather partial to the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle version of
} Euclid's 5th postulate:
}
}  Given a line and a point not on a line, the odds are pretty good you
}  won't know the momentum of the point real well, so you may or may not
}  be able to run another line through the point (oh great; now you don't
}  know the momentum of the point AT ALL) that is parallel to the first
}  line (but then you don't know its momentum either; what a mess!), at
}  least not to within Planck's constant.
}
} Then there's the version based on Ian Malcolm's non-explanation of
} chaos theory in Jurassic Park:
}
}  Given a line and -- are you following me so far? -- a point -- you
}  know what a point is, right?  How about a strange attractor?  A
}  fractal dimension?  Want some more buzz words that sound intelligent?
}  -- not on a line, well, give me your hand.  Soft.  Very good.  Anyway,
}  we have this line, see, and a point that -- now here's the tricky part
}  the point is not on the line, not at all; not even all that close,
}  really, but I'm sure someone as attractive as you knows all about that
}  -- sorry for the pun -- my point is -- sorry about that pun, too -- my
}  point is that mathematics is chaotic so mankind shouldn't be messing
}  around with it unless you can get at least a best seller and a movie
}  version with a $200 million gross out of it.  See what I mean?
}
} Of course, some people enjoy the Pythonesque version:
}
}  Now look, my good man, I took this line and this point, like you so
}  callously recommended, and I passed another line through the point,
}  -- not on the first line, and now that line is dead!  It's deceased!
}  It's defunct!  It's met its Maker!  It's shuffled off it's mortal coil
}  and joined the choir invisible!  This is an ex-line!
}
} How about the Star Trek version?
}
}  Kirk: Spock, what do your sensors tell you about this region of space?
}  Have we entered (insert overly dramatic gesture here) a *parallel*
}  universe?
}
}  Spock: Captain, by definition, that is impossible.  Parallel
}  universes, like parallel lines, cannot intersect.
}
}  Bones: Why you inhuman, pointy-eared, green blooded Vulcan!  This is
}  television!  Parallel universes intersect all the time in television!
}
}  Worf:  That's true.  Remember when the Enterprise C came through that
}  rift in space ...
}
}  Kirk:  A Klingon!  Phasers on Once_Over_Lightly!  Fire!
}
}  Spock: Klingon, your appearance here is illogical.
}
}  Q:  Especially since he wasn't even in the "Yesterday's Enterprise"
}  episode.  But you poor, pathetic humans wouldn't know about that,
}  would you?
}
}  Kirk: (puffs up his chest in a manly fashion)  Hey, what are you doing
}  on my ship?
}
}  Q: I'm waiting for someone to make an actual statement, so I can show
}  how omnipotent I am by violating it.  I should have known you would
}  all be so boring in the meantime.
}
}  Kirk:  Scotty, get us out of here!
}
}  Scotty: But Captain, I canna change the laws of physics!  I've got to
}  have thirty minutes, minus commercials!
}
}  Kirk:  Scotty--
}
}  Uhura:  Captain, I'm not frightened, but if I don't act scared I don't
}  get any lines.
}
}  Oracle: (materializes on the bridge) All right, everybody out!  I've
}  had more than enough of this.  This answer has gotten entirely too
}  silly.  You're all cancelled.  Now get out!
}
}  (various grumbles are heard as the actors leave the set)
}
} Well, supplicant, there's your answer, sort of.  Anyway, you owe the
} Oracle pictures of Euclid, Gauss, Bolyai, and Lobachevsky, all
} spinning in their graves.


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