586-09 (52jde dist, 3.5 mean)
Selected-By: Mark McCafferty <firstname.lastname@example.org>
The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply.
Your question was:
And in response, thus spake the Oracle:
> Consider my Oracular career:
> Full many a long and lonely night I've spent
> lying awake, all drenched with sweaty fear
> of earning <Zot!>s for questions I have sent.
> Not once in all this time did it befall
> that <Zot!>ning bolts were thrown to take to task
> this supplicative fool, in spite of all
> the Null and Woodchuck queries that I ask.
> I waste no ink on Grovels now, nor fear
> electrocution by your <Zot!>ning bolts:
> an insight came to me and made it clear
> that <Zot!>ting's only feared by clueless dolts.
> Here's the revelation I have got:
> Woodchucks are real, the Oracle is not!
> Woodchucks are live, the Oracle's a lie!
> Woodchucks are true, the Oracle is false!
> Chicago, Danny Quayle, and MS-DOS
> are facts whose truth nobody can deny;
> a politician's promise, or a dream
> of summer love, a slipper made of glass,
> are only fantasy: and so, alas,
> are You. Reality would really seem
> less ghastly if the coin were flipped, and all
> the unreal things I've listed became real,
> and all the real unreal! I deeply feel
> your lack, O Orrie, and existence palls --
> for who to live in such a world would choose,
> where Woodchucks are the truth and Oracles a ruse?
> O Oracle, I pray that you become the truth,
> and Dole and Woodchuck both become a lie,
> Daily I pray, and sacrifice forsooth,
> but fruitless are my pleas, my hopes denied.
> Some other means than prayer is what I need,
> some way to turn the tables on what is,
> and so I ask: to me an Answer speed,
> and "tellme" how to cause You to exist!
> Alas! You cannot answer! You're not real!
> But who can tell me how to make you true
> if not Yourself? I'd ask the Man of Steel,
> or Santa Claus, but they have problems too.
> Tell me, Orrie, how to make it so,
> that Oracle is "yes" and woodchucks "no"?
} Poor mortal, you have erred, but I,
} despite that fact, shall opt to spare
} you from the <zot!> -- your desp'rate plight
} did make me weep. (But do beware,
} O supplicant, lest you forget,
} that grovelling will serve you well.
} If you don't grovel more, I'll let
} my Lisa <zot!> you straight to Hell.)
} Your woodchuck question has laid bare,
} for all to see who do have eyes,
} the folly of your world-view's error
} in all its monumental size.
} Now hear! and I will speak to you
} of when the world of Man was new:
} When the world was young, in the days ere the 'Net --
} E'en then I was here, though in different guise.
} Since most of the people and I hadn't met,
} my questions were mostly from creatures less wise:
} The deer and the antelope, who mainly played,
} and the lions and tigers and bears that roamed free,
} the wolves that howled, and the sheep that brayed,
} and the woodchuck, ah yes, the woodchuck may be
} of all my petitioners the most greatly annoying --
} E'er since day one, they've all asked me the same,
} and that question by now has become trite and cloying
} (A few aeons more and even I'll go insane!):
} The first question asked by the first woodchuck
} was "How Much Wood Would A Woodchuck Chuck?"
} But now, the world of Man has grown larger,
} with DOS and Chicago and Dan Quayle and more:
} Clinton, Bush, Reagan, and Jimmy Carter --
} An Oracle's needed as never before.
} I no longer pay heed to the questions of woodchucks,
} they don't bother me much here on the 'Net.
} Now you've got the Oracle, which is your good luck,
} but woodchucks are part of the package you get.
} So you see, mortal supplicant, there's really no need
} to cause me to be, nor to make woodchucks not.
} I came before them but they are and, indeed,
} you must accept it, or else risk my <zot!>.
} The Oracle requires you to show appreciation
} by writing more sonnets, in style Elizabethan.