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Internet Oracularities #629

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Usenet Oracularities #629    (61 votes, 2.9 mean)
Compiled-By: "Steve Kinzler" <kinzler@cs.indiana.edu>
Date: Thu, 17 Feb 1994 08:28:01 -0500

To find out all about the Usenet Oracle, including how to participate,
send mail to oracle@cs.indiana.edu with the word "help" in the subject
line.

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:
   629
   2 1 3 4 3   5 3 3 4 1

629   61 votes 8gp84 abig6 hfcb6 9ar96 7dmd6 4mn75 67jaj bifd4 6hme2 a9gbf
629   2.9 mean  2.7   3.0   2.6   2.9   3.0   2.8   3.5   2.7   2.8   3.2


629-01    (8gp84 dist, 2.7 mean)
Selected-By: jgm@cs.brown.edu

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

> A bus leaves Cleveland at 3:57pm heading west at 60mph.
> At the same time, a squad of bikers leaves Los Angeles
> travelling at 53mph, heading towards...well... wherever bikers
> go.  At the same time a tractor travels at 12mph somewhere in
> Nebraska.  Where and when, if ever, do they meet?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} There are several possible answers, depending upon situational factors:
}
} 1)  The bus driver is currently on an acid trip.  In this case, the
} bikers will find the bus lying in the grand canyon (the driver thought
} it had wings).  Upon removing the mangled corpses, they will renovate
} it and turn it into a sleazy bar.  Innocent hikers will stop in, and be
} accosted.  This will effectively kill Tourism in the West.  This will
} lead to a general deterioration of the economy, forcing the Nebraskan
} to sell his tractor.
}
} 2)  At 3:58 pm, the commies (who have been hiding in Cuba and plotting
} while we thought that the evil empire was dead) will invade Texas.
} Since all bikers eventually go to Texas, they will be enslaved by the
} commies. The heroic farmer will ride his tractor in to save them, only
} to be gunned down by the Godless brutes.  The bus driver, oblivious to
} world events, will continue his appointed rounds until he is finally
} shot for being too efficient.
}
} 3)  The tractor-driving Nebraskan is actually an agent of the alien
} conspiracy to suck out all Americans' brains.  In this case, the
} nefarious E.T. will ride out to meet the bikers.  ("wherever bikers go"
} is actually a small field in Kansas where the aliens confront them and
} consume what little brains they possess.  No one misses the bikers, so
} it's a win-win situation).  Unfortunately, just as the alien
} farmer-creature is about to run down the bikers with his tractor and
} eat their cognitive organs, the innocent bus driver, whose sense of
} geography is so impaired that he has managed to drive to Kansas.  In
} punishment for his stupidity, the aliens eat him instead, and the biker
} leader goes on to write a tell-all book.
}
} 4)  None of the above situations occur.  In this case, they never meet,
} and they live the rest of their lives without realizing what an effect
} they could have had on civilization as we know it.
}
} You owe the Oracle (incarnated as jzimmerman@cmcvax.claremont.edu) a
} copy of "The Protocols of the Elders of Zion."


629-02    (abig6 dist, 3.0 mean)
Selected-By: forbes@ihlpf.att.com

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

> why am I here

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

}       Target practice. Hold still!
}
}   <ZOT!>                       <ZOT!>
}                                                       <ZOT!>
}
}              <ZOT!>
}
}                                   <ZOT!>
}       <ZOT!>                                       <ZOT!>
}
}                    <ZOT!>
}
}       Dammit, you didn't hold still!
}
}       You owe the Usenet Oracle another round of practice.


629-03    (hfcb6 dist, 2.6 mean)
Selected-By: Carole Susan Fungaroli <csf7m@faraday.clas.virginia.edu>

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

> If God created Adam and Eve in his image and in the image of man to
> come, tell me oh Great Knowledge Giver, did they have belly buttons?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} You stink!  Ha ha!  I smell your farts!  Ha ha!
} Ha ha!
}
} This question SUCKS!  I'm going to flame EVERYONE!  Ha ha!
}
} [Two grungy teenagers sit at a terminal in a mansion in Indiana which
}  they have just broken into for kicks.  They are replying to the
}  owner's e-mail in their own fasion.]
}
}  Bev:  This question SUCKS!
}  Butt: Hey, here's a question.  Like, if Adam and Eve were made in
}        God's image, and they had belly buttons, does that, like,
}        mean that God has a belly button?
}  Bev:  Heh heh.  Does God have a penis?  Heh Heh
}  Butt: Heh heh heh!
}  Bev:  If I step on the ground, how do I know I'm not touching his
}        butt?
}  Butt: Heh heh!
}  Bev:  Heh heh!
}  Butt: Hey, look what happens if I change all of the terminal commands.
}  Bev:  Hey, the screen's all weird.  I think you broke it.  Heh heh.
}  Butt: Try changing the window colors.
}  Bev:  Hey look, it lets me change all of the screen colors to black.
}  Butt: You dickhead!  Now I can't see anything!  How are we going to
}        change it back, you boner?
}  Bev:  Heh heh.
}  Butt: Heh heh!
}
} [Suddenly, the door slams open, revealing the irate figure of
}  the Oracle, so furious that even the light streaming from
}  the next room doesn't dare to touch him]
}
}  O: Ah, HA!  It's Butthead, at my terminal!  So YOUR'RE the one
}     who's been shipping out all of the useless answers that everyone's
}     been getting!  And here I thought you were the woodchuck!
}  Butt: Heh Heh.  Woodchucks RULE!
}  O: Out!
}  Bev: Hey, can we have your gifs?  They're awesome!
}  O: Out!
}
} You owe the Oracle a set of backup configuration files.


629-04    (9ar96 dist, 2.9 mean)
Selected-By: jgm@cs.brown.edu

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

> What's up doc?  munch, munch...

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Oracle:  "Ooooh, that wascaly wabbit!  I'll get you yet!"  <ZOT!>
}
} <Bugs Bunny deftly steps aside.>
}
}   B.B.:  "Ha!  Missed me, doc.  I think yer <Zot>s are a little off."
}
} Oracle:  "Just wait till I get my hands on you, you mangy wabbit..."
}
} <Oracle stalks wabb... errrr, *R*abbit, hands clenched in fists.>
}
}    B.B:  "Easy there, doc.  Wouldn't wanna raise the ol' blood
}          pressure- that could get serious!"
}
} <Oracle stops dead in tracks, surprised look on face.>
}
} Oracle:  "What?  You don't think my bwood pwessure is getting too high,
}           do you?  I cewtainwy don't want that to happen..."
}
}   B.B.:  "Why don't you have a seat right there and I'll check it for
}           you!"
}
} Oracle:  "Gee, thanks Mr. Wabbit.  huhuhuhuhuhuhuh"
}
} <Bugs gets out blood pressure device, wraps Oracle's neck in it.>
}
}   B.B.:  "Lemme just pump this lil' ol' valve here, and let's have a
}           look..."
}
} <Psht, psht, psht, psht... psht...      psht....>
}
} <Oracle's head swells up, turns bright red.>
}
}   B.B.:  "Gee, doc, pressure looks good to me... let's crank her up
}           a bit more..."
}
} Oracle:  "But... but..."
}
} <PshtPshtPshtPshtPshtPsht....   ka-*BLAM*!!!!!>
}
} <Oracle gets blown into air upwards of 30 yards, lands head first
}  in cloud of dust.>
}
} Oracle:  "OOOOOOOH, I'M GONNA GET YOU NOW, WABBIT!"
}
} <Oracle rights himself, starts running after rabbit.>
}
} Oracle:  "Feel my wath, you #!@**&%#$-ing wabbit!"  <ZOT!> <ZOT!>
} <ZOT!>
}
} <Bugs begins running/hopping away from bolts of lightning.>
}
}    B.B:  "Woooooh Woooooh  WOOOOOOOH!!!!"
}
} <Fade to black, play closing theme.>


629-05    (7dmd6 dist, 3.0 mean)
Selected-By: David Sewell <dsew@lion.ccit.arizona.edu>

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

> Tell Me Great One, I love cartoons and have a "?" of concern for the
> well being of the children of the future.
>
> In Goof Trope, Goofy has a son.  Was he ever Married? and if not what
> kind of massege are we sending to the kids. Is this Politicaly
> correct?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} *Sigh*. Don't they teach you kids *anything* in history class?
} Let's see . . . Henson, Hephaestus . . . ah, here it is,
} Herodotus' _Historia Kartonia_. I quote:
}
} In the fourth year of the reign of Bugios, king of Bunnia,
} Goofy I, in an attempt to ally his native Baryta with the
} far more powerful city-state of Dalmatia, wed their queen,
} Phiphia. This union seems from contemporary accounts to have
} been a happy one, and produced at least one known heir, but
} politically it was a disaster for all concerned. Delicate
} negotiations had been under way for a marriage between Phiphia
} and Pluto, king of Pyppios, and the sudden breaking of those
} agreements led inevitably to the Eleventh Isthmic War, which
} weakened all three states to such an extent that within ten
} years they were all absorbed into the Disneian Empire, under
} Micios III.
}
} There you have it, then:
}
} (I) Goofy was married;
}
} (II) It was very far from being correct, politically; and
}
} (III) The message for today's troubled youth is simple: Love is
} not enough to make a marriage work -- you also need complex
} treaty negotiations, a balance of military power, and proper
} respect for diplomatic protocol.
}
} You owe the Oracle ten reasons why man is a political anime.


629-06    (4mn75 dist, 2.8 mean)
Selected-By: forbes@ihlpf.att.com

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

> What must I do to export a file out of Island Draw into Power Point?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Ayup. I reckon you's be mightly lost. Now you say you want to get to
} Power Point from Island Draw? Well, the fastest way'd be to take old
} route 37 up past the hollow and follow the signs for Sam's turkey farm
} until you reach the interstate, but that way's been closed since the
} bridge went out. Hmmm.
}
} I've got it! You might want to write this down. Take a left the third
} traffic light past the main road. That's after the third light, not
} *at* the third light. Oh! and there's a detour there, but don't go that
} way! You'll get mightly lost for sure. Where was I? Right after the
} third light. OK. Then cross the old covered bridge, and watch for mill
} road. Don't take it though! Past that is new route 37, get on that...
} Oh, never mind. The exit you need isn't finished yet. I guess you can't
} get there from here.
}
} You owe the oracle some better road maps.


629-07    (67jaj dist, 3.5 mean)
Selected-By: RICH MCGEE <MCGEE@nic.CSU.net>

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

> Who would you rather have sex with, Tonya Harding, or Nancy Kerrigan?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

}                              GAY BLADES
}
}                             a screenplay
}
}                         by the USENET Oracle
}
}                                ACT I
}
}                               SCENE 1
}
}       Wide establishing shot of a dimly lit, empty ice rink, late at
}       night.  In a series of quick cuts we see:  a shelf of rental
}       skates; a cocoa machine; empty bleachers; a parked zamboni.
}
}       SFX - a key in a lock, a rattling doorknob, creaking hinges, a
}       slamming door.
}
}       Enter TONYA HARDING.  TONYA appears out of the shadows, walking
}       past the rental skates and dropping a set of keys into her purse.
}       She is dressed in a fur-lined leather coat over a skimpy,
}       sequined ice-skating costume.  A pair of ice skates is slung over
}       her shoulder.  She is unhappy.
}
}                               TONYA
}
}                       [Tentatively.]
}
}               Nancy?
}
}       There is no reply other than her own voice, echoing off the ice.
}       TONYA glances around, steels herself, and sits down on a bench to
}       tie on her skates.  Rising, she steps away from the bench and
}       glides onto the ice.  To the strains of romantic music, she
}       builds speed, whirling eyes-closed into a spin.  The camera
}       follows her, spinning with her.  Music rises:  _Ave Maria_.
}       TONYA doesn't seem to notice; she simply moves, as if
}       instictively, into a skating routine, graceful and sedate.  The
}       music progresses, rising to a crescendo, and TONYA finishes the
}       routine, her eyes still closed.  Opening them, she gasps.
}
}       Cut to a shot from above and behind her.  TONYA rises abruptly,
}       and we see that she is looking at NANCY KERRIGAN, watching
}       quietly from the edge of the rink.
}
}                               TONYA
}
}               N- Nancy!
}
}                       [Pause.  Then, more softly:]
}
}               Nancy.  It *is* you.
}
}                               NANCY
}
}               Yes.  I couldn't stay away.
}
}                               TONYA
}
}               Are you-- I mean, is your--
}
}                               NANCY
}
}               It's fine.
}
}                       [Looking down, and touching her heart.]
}
}               It was never my leg that hurt, anyway.
}
}                               TONYA
}
}               Nancy, please, let me--
}
}                               NANCY
}
}               Tonya, stop.  Look.  I know.  I know all about it.
}               And--
}
}                       [Giggles a bit, tears in eyes.]
}
}               --and believe it or not, I even understand.  It was
}               sweet of you!  It really was...  I--
}
}                       [Wipes eyes.]
}
}               --I didn't know what was happening at first.  You were
}               gone, gone back to Jeff, and I was so lonely, and then
}               the attack.
}
}                       [Looks up into TONYA'S eyes.]
}
}               But I understand now.  It was your last gift to me.
}               Wasn't it?  You wanted to give me one last thing, and so
}               you gave me enough positive publicity to last me a
}               lifetime. No matter what happens in Lillehammer now, I
}               can't lose, can I?  And I can still skate, too.
}
}                               TONYA
}
}                       [Looking at the ice, almost whispering.]
}
}               It was the Oracle's idea.
}
}                               NANCY
}
}               I thought it might have been.  It has his... style.
}               Subtle.  But Tonya--
}
}                       [Weeping openly now.]
}
}               Why did it have to end in the first place?
}
} ------------------------------------------------------------------------
}
} Well, there you have it, supplicant.  For the rest of the story, of
} course, you're going to have to wait until the movie comes out early
} next winter. But this should be enough to answer your question:  I
} wouldn't want to have sex with either Tonya _or_ Nancy; they both need
} time to heal right now.
}
} Besides, ice is COLD.
}
} You owe the Oracle the phone number of a good agent.


629-08    (bifd4 dist, 2.7 mean)
Selected-By: Ian Davis

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

> Beloved Oracle, who rubs elbows with the rich and hobnobs
> with snobs, who chats up the chieftains of Industry and
> powwows with the powerful, who "hoi"s the polloi and
> knows those in the news,
>
> Not all your supplicants are nobodies like me;
> some are great personages, rich, famous, and powerful.
> I suppose it's against Oracular ethics for you to tell me
> about some of them, the Questions they've asked and the
> Answers you've given; but what the heck, I'll ask anyway:
>
> O Oracle, please spill the beans, please let the cat out of
> the bag, please tell all!

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} For your excellent grovel's sake, I have decided to loosen
} up on the anonymity requirements and collected some answers
} for you without removing the signatures.
}
} Enjoy
}                   /O
}
} And in response, thus spake the Oracle:
}
} > YOU FARTED, HAHAHAHAHA
} >
} > --
} > B!FF CL!NT0N                president@whitehouse.gov
} > +-------------------------------------------------------------+
} > ! "Bosnia, Somalia, Iraq - They are all the same" - H.Clinton !
} > +-------------------------------------------------------------+
} > Disclaimer: What is said above may not be representative for
} >             the United States of America.
}
} And in response, thus spake the Oracle:
}
} > Dear supplicant,
} > Many are the likes of yourself that wish to know the
} > real identities of the supplicants doing service as
} > oracle incarnates. The Oracle is however based on an
} > absolute anonymousity, so I'm afraid I can't "spill
} > the beans.", Sorry.
} >
} > --
} > Beavis or Butthead                     bebut@harvard.edu
} > ----------------------------+------------------------------
} > "Look, this video's got     ! Disclaimer: The opinions
} >  symbols" - B               ! stated above most likely
} >                             ! applies to both Beavis
} >                             ! and Butthead, but please
} >                             ! do not take this for granted.
}
} And in response, thus spake the Oracle:
}
} > A well kept secret is that it is really Elvis Presley answering
} > ALL the questions instead of me, he is hooked up at his secret
} > hidingplace deep inside the bowels of Randolph Hearst's "Xanadu"
} >
} > You owe the oracle some Paparazzi cheese.
} >
} > --
} > Elvis Presley                     king@xanadu.associated_press.com
} > ------------------------------------------------------------------
} > This .sig is SECRET, you should not be reading this.
} > ------------------------------------------------------------------
} > Disclaimer: The opinions stated above are those of a drug-
} >             addicted artist, officially dead for many years. :-)
}
} And in response, thus spake the Oracle:
}
} > You blasphemous creature, are you suggesting that I'm not for
} > real! Take This!
} >
} > <ZOT!>
} > <ZOT!> <ZOT!> <ZOT!> <ZOT!> <ZOT!>
} >
} > <ZOT!>
} > (Lookiing at the smoking remains...)
} > -"Hmm, it may still have some life left"
} >
} > <ZOT!> <ZOT!>
} >
} >     < ZZZZZ  OOO  TTTTT ! >
} >    <     Z  O   O   T   !  >
} >   <     Z   O   O   T   !   >
} >    <   Z    O   O   T      >
} >     < ZZZZZ  OOO    T   ! >
} >
} >  (Turns back to Lisa, a jar of K-Y Jelly mixed with
} >   cocaine, the electric cattle prod and the fencing
} >   outfit)
} >
} > --
} >  The Pope                  ilpapa@palace.vatican
} > --------------------------------------------------------
} > "And so much God loved the mankind as he gave them his
} >  most treasured friend and superior. The Pope."
} > --------------------------------------------------------
} >  Disclaimer: If my opinions collide with God's,
} >              my opinion rules on earth, his in heaven.


629-09    (6hme2 dist, 2.8 mean)
Selected-By: Ian Davis

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

> O wise and glorious Oracle, who knows rather a lot, really,
>
> Why is everybody looking at me like that?
>
> THanks,
> Your most supple supplicant.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Well, I hate to tell you this, but we're all out to get you.  Myself,
} your neighbors, those people you pass in the street, most of your
} family, your co-workers, are all plotting against you.  In fact, the
} moment you stop keeping an eye on us, we're going to strike.  There's
} nothing personal, we just picked you because...well...we figured you
} were unlikely to be missed.
}  The Oracle hopes you have a nice day.


629-10    (a9gbf dist, 3.2 mean)
Selected-By: Ian Davis

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

> Oh mighty wise Oracle, who is more
> honoured than the Simpsons,
>
> Why do Australian power points have three
> holes?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Long ago I was approached by a seeker of wisdom, a young anthropology
} student named Carlos Cacahuete, who had spent many years studying
} mystic paths and transformations with medicine men and witches, and
} who sought to enter my Priesthood to complete his training.  Because
} he could never master the arcane use of the ESC key in vi he was
} unable to become a true Man of Humor, but before he left Indiana he
} told me the story of his own quest for the secret of power points.
}
} "It was Don Guano who taught me how to use two-hole power points,"
} Carlos said.  "During the early stage of my apprenticeship, I was made
} to sleep in a cramped storage room in his house.  It was July, and
} dreadfully hot; finally I could bear it no longer.  Don Guano saw my
} suffering, smiled, and brought me an old, rusty electric fan.  Only
} then did I notice the outlet in my tiny room: its two holes matched
} the two prongs of the fan plug perfectly.
}
} "That night I plugged in my fan and turned it on, but the blades would
} not move.  In the morning Don Guano simply smiled and said, 'A man of
} power must know many things.  To know the failings of the plug, you
} must become as a plug.  Come.'
}
} "Don Guano handed me his shovel and led me outside.  About thirty feet
} from his house he told me to dig two holes, shoulder width apart and
} knee-deep.  When done, I was to strip myself naked and stand with my
} two legs in the holes and my arms raised overhead, hands clasped: in
} this way I would 'be' the plug.  I was to gaze at the house,
} unblinking, until Don Guano called me inside--or until I had learned
} what illness possessed the fan and how to purge it.
}
} "Morning passed, then noon.  Don Guano sat on his porch drinking
} pulque.   He offered me none.  Suddenly I felt seized by a power
} beyond speaking, by a flame of pure knowledge.  I passed out.  When I
} awoke, Don Guano was pouring a Corona on my head to revive me,
} muttering mystic words in the ancient Yaqui tongue: 'Chingado
} gringo, no puede tolerar un pocito de calor...'
}
} "'Don Guano!' I shouted.  'I know why the fan does not work!  He has
} been cursed by a powerful brujo who has put a demon inside!'  Don
} Guano merely pointed at a spot in space some twenty feet behind the
} house.  Curiousity overcame me, as usual.  Don Guano cut off my
} question: 'I am pointing at the telephone pole.' 'But honored master,
} I see no pole!' 'True. For there are no electric lines between here and
} Hermosillo.  That is why the fan would not run.  Such wisdom must one
} possess who would be a man of power.'
}
} "I had failed my master.  In humiliation, I left and returned to
} California.
}
} "Some months later, I was walking on the lawn at UCLA when I saw a
} vision I thought at first was trickery of Senor Peyote.  But no: it
} was a man breathing into a great tube that rested upon the ground,
} never ceasing to breathe, and as he breathed out the tube spoke:
} 'BwAAA-yaaa-yaaaaaaaa-BWAAAAAAAAA-yaaaaa-yaaaa-BLEAHHH-yaaa-yaaa...'
} For many minutes I studied with this new master and learned of the
} 'didgeridoo,' the Instrument of Power of the Australian wise men.
} Suddenly, I knew what I must do to become a Man of Power.  To trade my
} secret Telephone Calling Card numbers for the magical instrument was a
} matter of moments.
}
} "I flew to Australia.  Long did I wander the outback seeking the spot,
} my Spot of Power.  Near Ayer's Rock I found it, next to an ancient
} songline and a weathered sign with the mystic word 'Qantas' upon it.
} This time I dug three holes: two for my legs, one for the didgeridoo.
} Even as I had seen the three power-points in my hotel room in Adelaide
} the first night: a design borrowed from the aboriginal shamans, who
} dreamt the power that Europeans foolishly imagined they had brought.
} I placed my legs in their two holes and my instrument in the other,
} filled my lungs with air, and blew.
}
} "I was seized with vision.  Power flew into me and filled me.  My head
} expanded and I was flying--over Ayer's Rock, then down, down into the
} Dreamtime.  I saw all.  I knew all.
}
} "I awoke.  A jet-black man stood over me: a shaman!  He spoke a few
} words of benediction in his ancient tribal tongue: 'Stupid bugger,
} hyperventilatin' into a bleedin' hole in the ground...'  I fainted once
} more.  When I awoke my didgeridoo was gone; also my wallet.  It did not
} matter.  I knew the secret of the three power-points.  No one could
} ever take it from me."
}
} --You know the rest.  How Carlos went on to write "Electric Breath,"
} became a multimillionaire; his 900 Dial-a-Didgeridoo line; his marriage
} to Latoya Jackson.  And to this day, Australians call an electric plug
} a "Cacahuete" (or maybe a "billabong," I always get those mixed up).
}
} You owe the Oracle an extension cord.


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