From oracle-request Mon Oct 25 08:35:54 1993 Received: by moose.cs.indiana.edu (5.65c/9.4jsm) id AA05105; Mon, 25 Oct 1993 08:35:54 -0500 Date: Mon, 25 Oct 1993 08:35:54 -0500 From: To: oracle-list Subject: Usenet Oracularities #601 Reply-To: oracle-vote X-Face: #uz~Ma5G?lX"lQv,9/$d0hEy7pk]l$U^|3Otd8>?b"!\/AE_F0Lm!['3"[}DQFw9 qxsx)mp$|3:}1pa:lK6H"H8TH+;E(w1r09e:3vpnx4zyC.v?+v%088"=)bs-,Q[: c2NWk',v>VQ^Hhf_zG5Okg;[vkGO%8`7T*XW0SepJNfCbVa",Dmvk-C/K|-uX*!e uK1Yc!-``R-$q(;"a@3 sgw_x[EK!Z)HJ~yxbd+mg{krWs0NA!1h/aXR X-Planation: X-Face can be viewed with cs.indiana.edu:/pub/faces. === 601 ================================================================== Title: Usenet Oracularities #601 Compiled-By: "Steve Kinzler" Date: Mon, 25 Oct 1993 08:35:54 -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: 601 2 1 3 4 3 5 3 3 4 1 596 57 votes 5kn81 25eii 2cegd 06lm8 adjd2 7ihc3 3ado7 4gjc6 15fme 6ejf3 596 3.2 mean 2.6 3.8 3.5 3.6 2.7 2.8 3.4 3.0 3.8 2.9 --- 601-01 --------------------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: Greg Wohletz The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > Dear Oracle, whose cookies are so magic, > > I've always liked Fig Newtons, so > when I saw a package of Apple Newtons at the supermarket, > I decided, Okay, I'll try them. > > After all, I've been reading about them > in Usenet news articles, where they say, > "Don't knock it if you haven't tried it". > > When I got the darned things home, > not one of them would boot, > much less run any interesting applications, > and the handwriting recognition was zero. > > I got so mad I ate one. > It was delicious! I ate the whole thing! > Next morning, I dumped core.... > > Wise Oracle, who can read even my handwriting, yes, > even if I write in invisible ink you can read > what I write before it's even written, > please tell me, > > why are they talking about cookies in comp.sys.intel? And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } Ahh, 'tis the work of Meanderos, god of divergence and lord of } tangents. Although revered by incessant ramblers of all civilizations, } he is abhorred by those who wish to remain focused on any issue. Master } of The Stray Topic, Meanderos roams the world of the Internet in search } of innocent threads to lead away from their rightful paths. He can only } be stopped by that bold newsgroup reader who dares to TACTFULLY flame } those who have fallen prey to his mischief. The Oracle hopes to one day } banish this evil presence from the net forever. } } You owe the Oracle a bag of Chips Ahoy! cookies. --- 601-02 --------------------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: David Sewell The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > oh fine and dandy oracle, whose pasta is faster and has > the consistency of plaster, i have a problem that i just > know you're gonna want to help me with. > > it seems that whenever i talk i start spouting advertising- > style slogans. what can i do? > > help me now. send no money, we'll bill you. help me now > and receive a free set of steak knives to complement your > answer. ring now. dial 0800-HELP-ME now. > > a. "jim-bob" supplicant (desperate) And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } This letter contains the charms of the ancients it has been sent } around the world 3hirtyseven times. You will receive good luck and } money when you sned it on do not brake the chain. Marvin Megaloop } lost the letter and his wife fell on him he died.Esther Gotobesta } sent the lettter and shereceived 80 $million lira, from her cousin } Filo Popoff, who died. He didn't send the letter. The Pope crossed } this letter into his blesing and the Queen sent it to Diana they are } rich. Remove you last name and put it on the letter when you make } copies and send it to everyone else on your list. orYour arm will fall } off. you will get good knews with $money. In the mail from. Far away. } } You owe the Oracle a way to get rid of this horrid thing. --- 601-03 --------------------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: jgm@cs.brown.edu (Jonathan Monsarrat) The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > How to stop the strife in Georgia? And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } I ain't sure which strife you mean. } } D'you mean the struggle to stop the spread of kudzu an } WalMart, or mebbe you're referrin to the fight to keep } Florida from spreadin any further up I-95? } (We already surrendered Valdosta.) } } Could be ye're behind the times and thinkin of the Braves' } run for the World Series (it's over), the crusade to keep Them } from gittin uppity, or maybe the War of Northern Domination, } when them Yankee barbarians conquered our fair land. } } Y'all mightta noticed, we doan't have that good a record } in winnin' our fights; so I guess it ain't stoppin till we } lose. } } You owe the Oracle some gin, an I don't mean cotton. --- 601-04 --------------------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: nolan@helios.unl.edu (Harold the Foot) The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > Why do hotdogs come 8 in a pack, but hotdog buns come 10 to a pack? And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } Although both hot dogs, and hotdog buns are synonymous with good } eating, they are in fact 2 different species of food that arrived in } time together, by the freaks of evolution, quite by accident. } } The hot dog originally lived in Africa, where they wandered the plains } in packs of 8. The reason they did this (which is really the crux of } your question), is because of marauding ketchup bottles, which would } jump out of bushes, and pour themselves liberally over the hotdogs. } The hotdogs figured out that a ketchup bottle (of the variety around in } BC) can only hold enough sauce to cover 7 hotdogs, and so by gathering } in packs of 8, ensured that a ketchup bottle could never cover all of } the hotdogs in a pack. Ketchup bottles are well known as loners, and } also as being very proud of their achievements. Therefore, the hotdogs } preyed on the ketchup bottle's pride and effectively stopped them (the } bottles) assaulting them (the hotdogs.) } } Unfortunately, not much is known about the origins of the hotdog buns, } but many scholars subscribe to the idea that they in fact used to live } in trees. The first hotdog buns were thought to be very impressionable, } and when they first came into the world, the first thing they saw were } bananas. The buns were very much impressed by the living standards of } bananas. If you study hands of bananas, you will see that the number } of bananas on a hand is, on average, ten, which explains why hotdug } buns are found in packs of 10. } } Now the reasons that these two totally different food-forms is another } freak of nature, and an example of how man interferes with his } environment. When man first arrived on the continent of Africa, he was } sadly lacking in social etiquette, and this resulted in his consuming } anything remotely edible that was roaming the countryside. The hotdogs } were prime victims, because they were relatively slow moving, and (as } was quickly discovered by early man) were very tasty. } } As they were being hunted, the hotdogs searched continuously for } hidinplaces, and one pack came across a dead 'hand' of hotdog buns. } Being about the right size, the hotdogs hid _inside_ the bodies of the } dead buns. However, one was a little slow, and the first man on the } scene, saw him disappearing into one of the buns. Well, that wasn't } going to stop the hungry guy, so he picked up the whole lot, and } scoffed it down. In doing so, he discovered a new delicacy, and so the } men at the time, as well as hunting hotdogs, began killing hotdog buns } and putting their hotdogs in them. Since hotdog packs always numbered } 8, and buns were always grouped in 10, _THAT_ is why they are still } found like that today. --- 601-05 --------------------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: nolan@helios.unl.edu (Harold the Foot) The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > From: > O mighty Oracle, whose wisdom needs no parity bit for > error correction, please aid this bewildered supplicant - > > Many of my friends work(ed) in different > computer/engineering related fields, and they are losing > their jobs left and right. Some of them deserve to, I > humbly admit, but most of them are having their whole > company go under or losing government funding (either is > beyond the scope of anyone I know to bollix _THAT_ > completely) so I beg you on behalf of my friends: > > Can you get them jobs? And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } October 21, 1993 } } Dear , } } We are sorry to inform you that Oracularities Inc. is currently } undergoing reorganization due to Chapter 11 Bankrupcy Proceedings, and } can no longer accept new queries. We thank you for your past patronage } and hope to be of service to you in the future. } } Sincerely Yours, } } Donald Trump } CEO, Oracularities Inc. --- 601-06 --------------------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: Ian Davis The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > I would normally grovel, but since I am rather pressed for time, I hope > you will be understanding and overlook the absence of a grovel this > once. > > Okay, here's my situation. It would appear that the End of the World > is only a few minutes away. I'm afraid this caught me by surprise and > I didn't have time to prepare. So, as quickly as you can, could you > please tell me what I should do in my final moments of existence? > > Sincerely, And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } The Usenet Oracle is pondering your question. } } Expect an answer in a day or two. --- 601-07 --------------------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: Carole Susan Fungaroli The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > Why blame ME? > _YOU_ are the one that said "one if by land and two if by sea!" > It's not MY fault that the British sent in the paratroops! And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } Scene: Sinai, 1967 } The Soviet-trained Egyptian troops have been pushed back by the } advancing Israeli army. They are wondering what to do. Their } commander, remembering the training he received from the Russians, } says, "There is nothing to worry about. They are overextended. We } simply wait for winter." } } You owe the Oracle a hurricane. --- 601-08 --------------------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: Carole Susan Fungaroli The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > O Oracle... > O Oracle, whose... > O Oracle, who... > O Great one, O oracle, whose... > O Ever-... > aww, shit. > > O Oracle, can you recommend a good grovel, so I can get on with the > question I really wanted to ask? And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } The art of the grovel is not something you learn by rule or even } example. Deep down inside of all people, yes even computer nerds, is a } dark, secret, well of insecurity. A deep, dark, newt-ridden well of } inadequacy. The best grovellers are always those people in touch with, } and not afraid to drop a bucket down this well, and bring it up } brimming with self-loathing. } } Every last time you forgot to take your lunch to school and felt a } complete klutz was another drop in the well, expressed in Roger Waters' } song of the same name: } } We don't need no curled up sammies } We don't need no piece of cheese } No can of orange, in the home room } Mother leave that ham alone........ } } Mother! LEAVE THAT HAM ALONE! } } All in all it's just another drop in the well } All in all it's just another drop in the well } } That time you professed your love to that really 'special' someone in } home room, and they laughed in your face and told everyone. That was a } whole bathtub full down 'The Well'. } } Now, the question is, how can you get in contact with 'The Well', how } can you bring all those years of complete inadequacy back to a concious } level, allowing you to not only humble yourself in front of the Oracle, } truly mean it. } } Firstly, consider how the right side of the brain deals with emotional } issues, and controls the left arm. The left side of the brain controls } the right arm and deals with logical issues. By writing with your left } hand you put yourself in touch with your emotional feely side. } } A similar way to get truly in contact with The Well is to write with a } pen between your toes. Go ahead supplicant, try it! Look at those } letters you're writing, worse than a five-year old kid. Don't you feel } a klutz? Don't you feel stupid? Don't you feel humbled? Can you feel it } putting you in emotional touch with The Well? } } That's just step one though. Another way to get in contact with The } Well is to write letters to all those who humiliated you when you were } younger. Write letters to the bully who kicked sand in your face on the } beach. Write letters to the kids who stole your lunch money. Write } letters and apologise to them! That's right, apologise! Apologise for } having such a measly amount of lunch money. Apologise for spitting the } sand out of your mouth rather than eating it. Apologise for being the } worthless inconsequential mealy-mouted being you are. } } If at first you can't humble yourself as you feel you should be able } to, keep working at it. Some people have so suppressed their feelings } of inadequacy that they are completely out of touch with them. You can } see these people all around you. Happy, bright, dynamic. Don't be like } them if you ever want to be able to grovel properly. } } Thought there is hope. Even the brightest, happiest, most well adjusted } person has a Well, and can put it to good use. Find your Well } supplicant. Find your Well. } } You owe The Oracle your lunch money. NOW *SSH*L*! --- 601-09 --------------------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: Mark McCafferty The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > A tiny rocketship is shown against a background of stars. > The string that holds it up is faintly visible. > The string breaks, the ship falls, and the scene fades. > > We see a barren desert on some godforsaken unnamed planet; > the wind howls. The clean, flat floor is littered with paper-mache > boulders. > > There is a crashing sound, and soon three figures in ill-fitting > uniforms enter from the right. > > One, the captain, wears a large raygun strapped to his waist. > Another is carrying a large superheterodyne receiver-transmitter, > while the third staggers under the weight of a heavy battery-pack. > The boulders rock back and forth as the figures brush against them. > > The crewmen assemble the radio and turn it on. As the filaments warm > up, the captain raves, > > "Well, here we are, shipwrecked on this godforsaken unnamed planet, > with only one charge in the raygun, and 'I, Tobor' loose somewhere > on the planet and hunting for us. The only thing to do is --" > > One of the crewmen interjects, "It's ready, Captain!" > > "The only thing to do is to call for help!", says Captain Video. He > takes the large microphone and begins speaking into it: > > "Hello! Hello, anyone! This is Captain Video, shipwrecked on some > godforsaken unnamed planet with two crewmen, and we need help! > Come in! Help!" > > There is a shimmering in the air, and a twenty-two meter tall Figure > appears, dressed in a white robe. The Figure speaks, > > "Change the channel. You owe the Oracle a set of kinescopes of all > your shows." > > With another shimmering, the Figure disappears. Captain Video says, > "Good idea!", and reaches through the screen. > > [Click!] > > We see some stock footage of the frozen North, and dissolve to a > white set with cornflakes falling, and our party in the middle. > > A man and a dog enter left. > > The captain says, "Sergeant Preston! You must help us! We were > shipwrecked on some godforsaken unnamed planet, and changed the > channel to get off, but we're not dressed for this, and will surely > freeze!" > > Sergeant Preston replies, "I'll get a blanket from my sled, we'll > huddle together for warmth, and I'll send my dog King for help!" > > The scene fades and we see an animated beaver singing "brusha brusha > brusha"; we realize this is a commercial break, and go get a beer. > > After the commercial break, King returns, tugging on the hem of the > robe of a twenty-two meter tall Figure. The Oracle says, > > "It ain't a fit night out for man nor beast!" as a puff of snow hits > him in the face. > > "Change it again, dummy!" he says, and as he shimmers away, we hear > "You owe the Oracle an electric fan." > > Captain Video says, "Good idea!", and reaches through the screen. > > [Click!] And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } The scene opens with a dolly shot following a young graduate student } through the subterranean corridors of the engineering building of a } major midwestern university. His shoes squeak harshly but rythmically } on the hard floor - left foot about an A sharp, right shoe about an E } flat. As he winds his way through the labyrinthine corridors the } camera draws parallel and we see that his attention is focussed on a } large ream of printout (recycled, of course) and he navigates the } twists and turns only by experience and luck. His luck runs out as he } comes up sharp against a faded wooden door with a crack frosted glass } window. The door rattles as the student bangs his nose into it and } another crack starts in the center of the window. Above the nascent } crack is painted in fading and chipped green paint "S. Kinzler". Below } the crack is taped the handwritten sign reading "Priests only, all } others grovel at the registrars office". Looking up and about and } realizing he has arrived, though not sure how, the student opens the } door and enters without hesitating. } } Cut to... } } Wide angle shot of the office interior. If anything, it's even } dingier than the corridor. A desk against one wall is filled to } overflowing with unfilled forms, unanswered mail ("you may already have } won" stands out prominently) and at least three empty Chicken McNuggets } containers. A coffee machine is just visible behind a stack of Dr. } Dobbs and it is apparent that the machine has seen far more use than } the magazines. Lounging on a sprung couch against the opposite wall are } three more young graduate students, virtually indistinguishable from } the one entering, and straddling a typist's chair minus one wheel is a } fourth, just slightly older. Leaning against the wall next to the door } is yet another grad student - though she looks nothing like the pallid } specimens on the couch. Tall and blonde, with tanned legs up to her } armpits and a fine pair of..uh..um..glasses!, yeah, glasses, her } posture makes it clear she is not pleased by the inactivity in the } room. } } The entering student quickly closes the door and speaks. } } "Hey Steve I think you'd better have a look at - Oh, hi Lisa, sorry } about my cousin - Steve the floor in the DEC room is covered with white } painted cornflakes, like everywhere. And this latest supplicant lists } is showing a whole lot of tellmes from some site called } eniac.hollywood.com. I mean, ENIAC? It's a joke right?" } } The man straddling the chair holds up both palms reassuringly, though } the visible sweat does nothing to calm anyone in the room. } } "We know, we know, and we've got it under control" Against the wall } Lisa snorts derisively but says nothing. "We think it really is an } ENIAC, but how they got the connection I haven't a clue. Anyway, it's } apparently still loaded with a bunch of period games - loaded, hell, } it's apparently still 'wired' to play old 50's Late Late shows. My } guess is that it's an old Nielsen machine and it still wants to update } the ratings." } } "Yeah, but the cornflakes?" } } "Yeah, well, you know the 'personality' routine that the three stooges } here built into the last version? They slipped a couple of decimal } points on the ego parameter. No problem really, until we start } communicating with an antique like this with all the power of a trash } 80 with bad electrical supply. Durned program started believing it } really could do all these things." } } "Comeon, of course it can't." } } "No one told it that. And the ant's moving the rubber tree plant." } } "And...." } } "And so were bringing it down to size. We reloaded the Oracle in a } slightly more modest machine." } } "How much more modest? geez, it doesn't take much to out process an } ENIAC." } } Kinzler looks at the three stooges squirming on the couch. Larry and } Curly on the ends gesture vaguely at the Blonde against the wall, half } expecting her to bite their fingers off. Moe, in the center answers } hesitantly "uh, we're playing it right now on Lisa's Gameboy." } } "On Lisa's G-...no." } } "Yes, on my Gameboy! 34 levels into Donkey Kong and no end in sight } and it all of a sudden becomes necessary to appropriate my Gameboy to } save the Universe!?" } } Stooge Larry attempts a defense. "Well, not just the Universe, } Captain Video too." } } "Shut up greaseball. Sure. So they load it and run it, and now they } just sit there and wait for it to beep! For this they interrupt the } greatest game of Donkey Kong ever to be played on Campus Bus Route 29." } } BEEP } } Everyone in the room scrambles toward the Gameboy, now lying next to } and plugged into the phone on Kinzler's overloaded desk. Two years } worth of Administrative Usage Reports spill to the floor. Moe trips on } a discarded Diet Coke bottle and joins the Usage Reports. Larry } suddenly finds the wheel missing from Kinzler's chair and joins Moe. } Curly rises from the couch only to find that a sprung spring has hooked } his beltloop and is bungeed back in a cloud of dust. The new student, } let's call him PeeWee, turns looking for his alarm clock, thinking if } he could just hit the snooze bar the beep would go away. Kinzler sighs } and pours another cup of coffee. } } Lisa gracefully lifts her tanned legs over the various piles in the } office and takes the Gameboy in her two immaculately manicured hands. } "Showtime" she whispers softly as she presses the cursor keys to move } the three characters towards their tv set. Elsewhere in the } Engineering Building on the large midwestern university a Janitor plugs } his industrial floor waxer into an underengineered and overloaded } outlet. Fade to black. } } Open black. Nothing is seen but the mike picks up various and sundry } unimaginative imprecations in the voices of the three stooges, We hear } PeeWee calling "Just ten more minutes Ma, I'll skip breakfast this } morning." Lisa's lovely voice is heard clarion-like throug the din "24 } billion! Hot Patootey!" In the background we hear the distinctive } sound of someone pullstarting a lawn mower. } } Lights flicker on, revealing the cast as before with two exceptions. } Kinzler is still by the coffee pot but is now adjusting controls on a } Yamaha 110v portable generator which had previously served only to } support the coffe machine. And three stereotypical Matinee astronauts } are standing in the center of the room, groveling before a 1 meter tall } cartoon plumber named Mario. Mario is wearing a white robe. } } Kinzler steps between Captain Video and the slightly confused Mario } Brother. "Take a break Big O, I'll cover this one." Mario wanders into } the hall way in search of donuts. Kinzler turns to Captain Video. } "Nice Zotter you got there, Mattel?" } } Captain Video draws his shoulder back, puffs out his chest, raises one } booted foot to the soiled armrest of the couch. "I want to talk to my } agent right now." } } Kinzler: "uh huh." } } "I've got a new DeSoto, a house on the beach, and Annette Funicello's } private phone number. Low budget movies are just not worth the pay. I } want to take a vacation and sit by the beach." } } Kinzler glances at a forty year old copy of Variety lying under a } moldy McNugget on his desk. "No problem, your show gets cancelled } after this episode anyway. Now if we can just get you back to the ENIAC } } "Got a lock on it Steve, two more moves and they're outta here." } Lisa taps the up arrow once daintily and once more with authority and } then looks up smugly. } } The now thoroughly cracked door swings open with a groan and in flies } a large Zaxxon Ground Attack Ship. Zapping Captain Video and his } speechless lackeys with a stun ray, the Zaxx grapples them with a } tractor beam and disappears into the gameboy screen. The phone line } pulses and glows briefly as Kinzler firmly hangs up the handset. } Shoulders slump all around and Curly, finally disengaged from the } couch, starts hunting for a beer. } } Nobody notices as a short plumber named Mario with a handlebar } mustache and wearing a white robe ducks his head back in the door. } } "Hey! Where's a guy getta pizza 'round here?" --- 601-10 --------------------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: bc70007@bingsuns.cc.binghamton.edu The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > I've been wondering for a long time, oh wise oracle, and I desprately > need your assistance in this matter: If you're driving your car at the > speed of light, what would happen if you turn on your headlights? And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } Well, this is obviously a hypothetical question, since anything } travelling at the speed of light would have infinite mass, which just } isn't allowed. (because heck, I say so) } } Nevertheless, it's time for a hypothetical answer. I would guess that } if the car were travelling at the speed of light, and you turned on the } headlights, all the photons released would stay in the same spot, } piling up in front of the car, until eventually it's just a big } blinding mass of light that goes through the windshield, permanently } blinding the driver and sending the car off skidding somewhere. Quite } painful, I would assume. I recommend against trying it. } } You owe the Oracle a new set of headlights.