From rec.humor.oracle Mon Apr 29 10:42:05 1996 Path: news.cs.indiana.edu!kinzler@cs.indiana.edu From: "Steve Kinzler" Newsgroups: rec.humor.oracle Subject: Best of Internet Oracularities #801-825 Followup-To: rec.humor.oracle.d Date: Mon, 29 Apr 1996 10:39:13 -0500 (EST) Organization: Computer Science, Indiana University Approved: oracle-mod@cs.indiana.edu Message-ID: <24972@830792357> Reply-To: oracle-admin@cs.indiana.edu NNTP-Posting-Host: news.cs.indiana.edu === 801-825 - 3.8 ======================================================== Title: Best of Internet Oracularities #801-825 Compiled-By: Steve Kinzler Date: Mon, 29 Apr 1996 10:39:13 -0500 (EST) Oracularities are the distilled wisdom and sagacity of the Internet Oracle, as incarnated in its many anonymous e-mail participants. This collection has been compiled from the regular Oracularities postings #801 through #825 and contains the Oracularities rated by its readers as among the funniest. To find out more about the Internet Oracle, send mail to oracle@cs.indiana.edu with the word "help" in the subject line to receive the Oracle helpfile. The regular Oracularities postings can be found in the Usenet newsgroup rec.humor.oracle. Open discussion about the Internet Oracle occurs in the newsgroup rec.humor.oracle.d. If your site doesn't carry these newsgroups, contact your news administrator about starting them, or see the Oracle helpfile about subscribing to the Oracularities e-mail distribution list. --- 805-06 55foR 4.1 ----------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: Mark McCafferty The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > Oh wonderful and wise Oracle tell me how would one implement a version > of Windows TP ...... windows for telepaths ? And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } You open the box labeled "Windows TP", carefully extracting the pouch } labeled "License Agreement". You examine the contents of the pouch, } finding an inflatable beanie bearing the Windows logo rather than the } familiar 3.5" diskette package. You inflate the beanie, insert two } "C"-size batteries (not included), and carefully place it on your head. } } You press the Start button. } } Immediately, the image of an hourglass comes to your mind. You find } yourself trapped; unable to move anything in your body save your eyes. } } After an indeterminable delay, you regain control of your senses. } You are suddenly compelled to speak your name and business affiliation. } You then retrieve your Windows TP package and chant the Product-ID } number. } } Suddenly you see the words "Windows is detecting new hardware" flash } before your eyes. } } You crash to the floor, writhing in agony. You feel every muscle in } your body contract and retract in turn. Your mind is filled with } the image of a blue inchworm, creeping slowly across a grey field. } The creature finally reaches the edge of its domain, and your seizure } ceases. You take a moment to regain your composure, and you are } reminded of your high school anatomy course as a complete listing of } every organ in your body appears before your eyes. You browse the } list for a moment, and utter the phrase "OK". After a short delay, } you hear the sound of a trumpet echo through the recesses of your mind. } } You find yourself in a large, barren space. You look around, and } discover images labeled "My Brain", "Recycle Bin, and "Set up the } Microsoft Network". You feel compelled to utter the word "Start", } after which a list of options floods your mind. Weary from the } detection phase, you utter the word "Shut down". You close your eyes, } and blackness surrounds you. You feel yourself start to drift into } sleep. Your peace is interrupted, however, as a bright orange light } invades your nothingness. "It's now safe to shut down your mind". } } You drift into unconsciousness, and sleep for several hours. } } When you awaken, you are frozen in place as you see clouds and blue } cycling colors. After a short eternity, the familiar "My Brain" } icon reappears in your mind. But something is terribly wrong; } you can feel it in your gut. Just outside the range of primary } vision, you can sense something lurking about you on all four sides. } You slowly look up, and see the word "Safe Mode" glaring back at you. } You back away slowly, swivel your head, and there it is, behind you } as well. Your heartbeat quickened and you are terrified as you turn } to your left and your right and it meets you there as well, its cold, } heartless glare filling your soul with despair. Quickly, you summon } Control Panel, System, Device Manager. You feel yourself frantically } gasping for air as you run through the list of installed devices. } You come upon "Respiratory System" and are horrified to see a black } exclamation point on a yellow field next to the entry "Lungs". } You close your eyes and utter the word "Properties". On the closed } curtains of your eyelids, you see your life flashing before your eyes. } } You force yourself to concentrate on your situation, attempting to } discover which system devices are in conflict, when suddenly your } entire body seizes up in pain. } } You lose all sense of reality. You are floating through the clouds as } you hear a voice echo through your mind: "This program has performed } an illegal operation and will be terminated." You start to black } out and suddenly you remember your situation. You stare in horror } at your blue extremities, knowing that, without oxygen, you will } not last much longer. With all the consciousness you can muster, } you force yourself... } } To reboot. } } You awaken in a place that is dark, but familiar. A solitary white } prompt on a black field greets you. You look behind you and see the } wreckage of the operating system that nearly spelled your demise. } "Cannot find a file that may be needed to run Windows". You turn } around to face the prompt, and a wide grin comes across your face. } You take a deep breath and revel in the life-giving atmosphere. } You laugh as you utter the words, } } "DELTREE WINDOWS". } } Suddenly you find yourself on the floor of your home. You find } the charred remains of the Windows TP beanie littering the floor. } You carefully gather them up, stack them neatly on an altar, and burn } them, promising yourself never to risk your life with Microsoft again. } You bury the ashes, knowing that your life is again in order. } } You owe the Oracle a copy of Windows TP and Bill Gates' home address. --- 813-04 36qEL 4.0 ----------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: "Alan M. Gallatin" The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > Tell me, oh wise and groovy Oracle, who knows all sorts of neat stuff, > > If you're the Oracle who knows all, is there also an Opticle who sees > all? And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } Yes, in fact there's a whole tribe of us. No wonder Mt. Olympus feels } a little crowded at times.. } } The Oracle - Knows all there is in the world. } The Opticle - Sees all there is in the world } The Auricle - Hears all there is in the world. } The Follicle - Has all the hair in the world. } The Metrical - Owner of all centimetres, litres, and hectares in the } world. } The Sphericle - Makes the world go 'round. } The Imbecile - Keeps asking me about Woodchucks. } The Popsicle - A sweet fellow, but so cold-hearted.. } The Hypotheticle - What would you do if such a person existed? } The Rhetoricle - A Grandiloquent chap - prone to using fancy words. } The Bicycle - Loves to travel. } The Particle - Not a terribly big person. } The Barnacle - Nice guy, but so hard to get rid of... } The Politicle - Lies a lot, has a fondness for kissing babies. } The Practicle - Always makes the best out of a bad situation. } The Biblicle - Tends to knock on your door early Sunday morning. } The Cuticle - Nice fingernails. } The Manacle - Doesn't like to let you go. } The Typicle - He's just the kind of guy you'd expect. } The Magicle - Has a fondness for rabbits. Keeps disappearing in } puffs of smoke. } The Article - Writes an awful lot. } The Ventricle - This fellow has a good heart. } The Criticle - Never thinks anyone can do anything right. } The Wrinkle - Really showing his age these days. } The Carbuncle - He's a pain to be with. } The Monocle - Has a one-eyed view on the world. } The Medicle - Always concerned for your health. } } You owe the Oracle net.access for all of the above - wouldn't it make } life just so much easier? --- 823-05 4dlvJ 3.9 ----------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: dsew@packrat.aml.arizona.edu (David Sewell) The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > 1. P-K4 And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } On a midnight, dark and dreary, as I pondered weak and weary, } Over many quaint and curious questions asked the night before. } As I nodded, nearly sleeping, from my terminal I heard a beeping } Consciousness upon me creeping--something I couldn't just ignore. } "'Tis a suplicant," I muttered, "mailing me and nothing more." } These endless questions are such a bore. } } Ah, how well I remember it was in bleak September, } When each and every University let in Freshmen by the score. } I wished for a month anew, when the users would have a clue, } But there's nothing I can do--To answer their questions I'd swore. } To this cursed and boring job of answering questions I had swore-- } How could I know what lay in store? } } I took a peek at the screen, and saw what I'd foreseen. } Surely there is nothing that can surprise me anymore. } I take a breath, and exhale. The screen now reads, "You have new mail." } Always this without fail--I hit a key to see more } So I could once again return to sleep, therefore, } I hurried to finish this stupid chore. } } The message filled me with a sense of dread, "P-K4" is all it said! } Stupid questions like this I had received before. } This question was quite lame, He thinks this is all a game. } They are all just the same, It is all such a bore. } "'Tis some clueless suplicant who I can safely ignore. } 'Tis this and nothing more." } } As I settled back to sleep, yet again I heard a beep! } Indeed, it was the same question I got before! } I was now quite perturbed, this suplicant was quite disturbed, } His actions must be curbed, before he sends any more! } I now felt an anger that permeated my very core. } Indeed, I was now quite sore. } } I felt a need to punish someone, so the suplicant I did summon. } And appeared a stately woodchuck, whose name I do deplore. } There before me was where he stood, I screamed as loud as I could. } In defiance he chucked some wood--Wood that used to be my chamber door. } Quickly I dodged aside and was missed narrowly by my chamber door. } Quoth the woodchuck, "P-K4." } } "Marmot!" said I, "thing of evil!--Marmot still if not a devil!-- } Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, } Leave now and leave no token of that which you have spoken! } Leave my belongings unbroken, you who would bust up my chamber door! } Take thyself from my room, and take thy form from off my door!" } Quoth the woodchuck, "P-K4." } } And the woodchuck, never quitting, still is sitting, still is sitting } On the piece of wood that used to be my chamber door. } And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon that is dreaming, } And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor. } And so depressed I was, knowing that I shall nevermore } Know the meaning of "P-K4!" --- 816-07 4eqyF 3.8 ----------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: Christophe Pettus The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > Oh Oracle most wise and scrumptious, please explain a minor mystery > to this humble supplicant who kneels before you. > > When people are speaking of some task which is incredibly easy, they > call it a "piece of cake". Why, then, is it so difficult to bake a > cake and get it to come out right? And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } The mistake you are making is a simple one; the correct usage is not } "piece of cake" at all, but "picocake", wherein the "cake" is the SI } unit of "ease of pilfering". Naturally, the "pico-" prefix refers to a } larceny one-trillionth the size of this--thus, a very _easy_ job } indeed. } } Here is a list of Standard Reference Rip-Offs which have been } established by the American Burglarilogical Society: } } PICOCAKE Taking candy from a baby (sleeping). } NANOCAKE Slipping a half-dozen sugar packets from a restaurant into } your pocket. } MICROCAKE Switching price tags to buy two tubes of toothpaste for the } price of one. } MILLICAKE Nabbing a neighbor's Playboy out of his mailbox before he } knows it's been delivered. } CAKE Filching a cake which has been left on an open windowsill } to cool. } KILOCAKE Shoplifting a pound of Limburger cheese, getting away on the } subway, undetected. } MEGACAKE Using stolen credit card information to purchase a } sportscar which you take on a week-long Florida vacation } spree. } GIGACAKE Ransacking a nuclear weapons arsenal for a warhead _and_ } smuggling it to Cuba by disguising it as a large bologna. } TERACAKE Taking candy from a baby (awake). } } You owe the Oracle a cake with a hacksaw baked inside. --- 817-10 77ABI 3.8 ----------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: Christophe Pettus The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > I am a new user - test run - how do I get to the web browser? I click > "web" and it takes me to a statement about the protest and then some > suggestions but i do not see how to actually initiate a search. Thanks > Also - can I use netscape along with pipeline? I tried and got a > "check winsock" and "connect first" message. And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } I think I know from where your problems stem. } Would you, could you, RTFM? } } I would not, could not, RTFM } I want *YOU* to solve my problem. } } Could you read the docs online? } Would you read them any time? } } I would not read the docs online, } Without them I can do just fine. } } Would you read a FAQ or HOWTO? } Is this something you could do? } } I could not read a FAQ or HOWTO. } Even the thought makes me spew. } } What could I suggest next? } Would you read it in HyperText? } } I would not read help in hypertext, } For the problem with which I am vexed. } } How about if you could read it through } A conveniently placed system menu? } } I will not access help from a menu. } That stuff is a bunch of ballyhoo! } } How much simpler could this be? } Did you try the help hotkey? } } I'll try not a help hotkey, } To that I will never agree! } } I would not, could not RTFM. } I want *you* to solve my problem! } } Since you will not RTFM, } You I must now condemn } } To a life without working software, } And a constant feeling of despair. } } You owe the Oracle a book by Dr. Suess, } Or maybe something by Mother Goose. --- 824-05 5hozM 3.8 ----------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: bremner@cs.mcgill.ca The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > Mr Oracle, sir, > > I've been really, really bored lately. I mean we're talking some > serious boredom here. I'ts like I'm just tired of everything in life. > Nothing excites me like it used to. What should I do? And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } TOP ONE-HUNDRED FIFTY THINGS TO DO WHEN BORED } (in no particular order) } } Quit your job. Learn to ski. Make a snowman. Eat some turkey. Run } a marathon. Play "Marathon." Take a shower. Shake a tower. Play a } game. Play a wild game. Play with wild game. Make a lintman. Fold. } Spindle. Mutilate. Throw pencils at the acoustical tiles. An } "askme." Ten "askmes." A hundred "askmes." Make a spamman. Learn } Bourne shell. Learn Korn shell. Learn elisp. Learn TECO. Port } "wordstar" to a Cray. Port "pong" to a SGI. Procrastinate. } Prognosticate. Procreate. Proliferate. Proportionate. Write a new } operating system. Market it. Piss off Bill Gates. Date a girl. } Carbon-date a girl. Date a boy. Twister! (a Milton-Bradley game). } Eat some Jello. Trek Classic. Trek: The Pepsi Generation. Take a } drink everytime Wesley saves the ship. Nurse your hangover. } Contemplate your navel. Comprehend Andy Rooney. Rhyme with "orange." } Lambada! Sing the lyrics to "Gilligan's Island" to the music of } "Stairway to Heaven." Write a complex simulation game where Sylvester } Stallone and Douglas Hofstadter battle each other for domination of } the universe. Market it. Piss off Bill Gates again. Compare apples } and oranges. Circle the square. Square the circle. Solve the } four-color map problem. Explain "SeaQuest DSV." Rent a movie. Buy a } movie. Wonder why you buy movies when renting them is good enough. } "Classic Transformers." Enjoy it. "Transformers Generation 2." Toss } your cookies. Kill Garfield. Kill President Garfield (time machine } required). Throw water balloons. Throw syrup balloons. Throw } concrete balloons. Eat some pizza. Make some money. Work. Play. } Be a dull boy. Drink no tea. Play NetHack 'till you have a "Hack } attack." Even more "askmes." Join in the "UNIX" vs. "NT" flamewars. } Join in the "Smalltalk" vs. "C++" flamewars. Join in the "Big-endian" } vs. "Little-endian" flamewars. Join in the "Usenet Oracle" } vs. "Internet Oracle" flamewars. Get first aid. Rollerblade. Sex. } Drugs. Rock-n-roll. Listen to rock-and-roll while stoned on drugs as } you have sex on rollerblades. E-mail. IRC. AOL (Just kidding). Swim } to Japan. Did we suggest: Lambada! Ice hockey. Street hockey. } Cottage cheese hockey. D&D. R&R. S&M. P&Q. Read a book. Book a } trip. Trip a man. Man a ship. Ship a package. Fed-Ex yourself to } Lithuania. Find the "real" murderer. Watch your TV. Kill your TV. } Home Shopping Network!!! Run down the street, naked except for a pair } of ruby slippers, yelling, "Toto! Toto!" Let's all sing the Skittles } Song! Monty Python. Monty Hall. Dress up as your favorite character } from "Friends." Dress up as your favorite character from } "Superfriends" (Form of... an ice jet!). Start an argument. Change } sides. Giggle uncontrollably. Stretch. Get a back massage. Give a } back massage. Give a *yick* foot massage. Denny's run! Drive your } car. Drive your karma. Call up Lamar! Alexander and ask if "Lou Zer" } is there. Go see "Ice Capades." Fire drill. Earthquake drill. } Asteroid drill. Ice-age drill. Pat-Buchannon-becomes-President } drill. Yet more "askmes!" Run. Skip. Jump. Hopscotch. Drink } scotch. Find a Scotch. Find out what's under that kilt. Find out if } a guy in a bear suit can get a hug from a New York cabdriver. Scream } for ice cream. Eat all thirty-one flavors. Crank calls. Disneyland! } Top Ten lists. Top One-hundred-fifty lists. Count the number of } times the word "Ice" has appeared in this list. Make sure there are } actually one-hundred fifty items here. Turn off the computer. Enjoy } life. --- 805-09 28rGn 3.7 ----------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: Rich McGee The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > Oh great and wise Oracle, who is so excellently versed in all the > ways of the world, please explain something to me. I understand why > fishing boats have sonar, so they can find fish. But why do they > also have radar? Radar doesn't work underwater. And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } Flying fish. } } You owe the Oracle a Stealth haddock. --- 808-06 46pGn 3.7 ----------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: "Alan M. Gallatin" The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > Oh wise one of the computer age, I am perplexed by the tediousness > of my job as a computer lab assistant. All I do is sit and stare at > a computer that is to slow to do anything other then send mail (ie. > IBM 386sx-55mhz), waiting for someone in the lab to break their > computer so that I can fix it. What, oh illustrious one must I do > to end the monotony? > > Your humble servant. > > p.s. "Quitting is not an option" -I am sure someone has said that > before... And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } If quitting is not an option, your only other recourse is to become } promoted. This the Oracle will grant you because He is in a good } mood today. ZIPPITY-ZIP-ZAP! } } You are now an engineer for a small, fast-moving software company. } You are developing interactive web browsers, and you have your very } own lab in which to test them. Let's see: You have a network sniffer, } a 12-channel multiplexing router box, and half a dozen IBM 386-sx-55mhz } machines that are too slow to do anything other than send mail. } } Rats. Perhaps The Oracle didn't promote you high enough along the } corporate ladder. Well, let's see what can be done about this... } ZIPPITY-ZIP-ZIP-ZIP-ZAP! } } You are now a senior executive at a large, well-established computer } software company. You have a corner office with a great view of } the parking lot. You have fancy shoes, a nice suit, and a tie which } is preventing you from breathing comfortably. And sitting on your } very own desk is...a IBM 386-sx-55mhz machine that is too slow to do } anything other than send mail. } } Rats. Let's try this one more time. ZIPPITY-ZIP-ZAPPITY-ZIP-ZAP- } ZAPPITY-ZAP! } } You have just taken over for Bill Gates as CEO of Microsoft. Lowly, } insignificant people all over the world worship you. And on your } desk is: Horray! A super-overdrive quad-processor Pentium 200-Mhz } mega-machine with RAM in the gigabytes! } } You should be happy now. } } What's that? The mega-machine is running Windows '95? All you do } is sit and stare at a computer that, thanks to its OS is too slow to } do anything other than send mail? } } I'm sorry. The Oracle is stumped. } } Nonetheless, you owe the Oracle an extra 33 Mhz which He badly needs. --- 813-06 2fuEz 3.7 ----------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: "Alyce Wilson" The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > Oracle, help me, help me, help me.... > > I have been afflicted by the most terrible disease known to mankind... > > COMEDY HAIR. > > Yes, it's gone apeshit this morning. Some diseases just spring > themselves on you without warning, and Comedy Hair is definitely one > of them. There are no precautions you can take. > > I got up this morning as normal, washed my hair as normal, combed > it as normal. Yet by the time I got to work (as normal) my hair was > sticking up in sixteen different directions, the parting was halfway > down the wrong side of my head and it had all gone curly at the back. > > Tell me, O mighty, omniscient Oracle, what can I do?? And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } Poor supplicant! Comedy hair is only part of your problem. I've } rewound your life for the past year (yes, that's what that was) and } have listed some things that have conspired to cause you grief: } } 1. Get rid of the convertible. } } 2. I know you enjoy your work, but you must stop break dancing } when you arrive each morning. } } 3. After you comb the wig, don't stuff it in your pocket! } } 4. You didn't realize it, but this past March you had the Medusa } Syndrome. The stone statues should have been a clue. } } 5. Stop stuffing bread in your mouth and sticking your fingers in } the toaster. That's not how to make toast. } } 6. In June you had lice. Big lice. Big hyperactive lice. } Fortunately, the finger-in-the-toaster routine did the trick. } } 7. I know you're combing it "as normal", but try using a comb. Your } hand and fingers may look like a comb, but trust me . . . } } 8. You have Hair 95 and it acts up periodically. Hold down your left } earlobe and right eyebrow at the same time and hit the DELETE key. } If that doesn't work, cycle power on yourself. } } 9. In August you caught a Buckwheat Germ. Try some Alfalfa } sprouts and wash your hands. } } 10. Get used to Marilyn's father - I know those bolts in his neck are } strange and the scar on his forehead is hideous, but if you keep } getting upset each time you pick her up, this is going to happen. } } 11. Stop going on TV and saying "I'm not just the president of Hair } Club for Supplicants . . ." You're jinxing yourself. } } 12. Each strand of hair is experiencing a slightly different time } dilation. Reroute the backup EPS conduit through the warp matrix. } If you time it just right, you'll slingshot all your follicles into } the same dimension! But be careful, just one femtosecond early or } late . . . well, let's not think about that. } } 13. Your head is in a maze of twisty little passages, all alike. Use } the wizard word! } } You owe the Oracle a giant tub of that hair cream . . . a little dab'l } do ya'! --- 820-05 0fCFu 3.7 ----------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: "Alan M. Gallatin" The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > Oh spiffy Oracle, who is old enough to remember such things, please > tell me why the dinosaurs died out. And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } Well, there are many, many theories about why the dinosaurs died out. } } Paleontology } The dinosaurs were killed by a change in the Earth's } climate. } } Geology } They were whomped by a comet. } } UFOlogy } They were kidnapped by aliens. } } Biology } They were not able to sufficiently evolve to match } the ever-changing environment. } } Fundamentalist Christian } There weren't any in the first place. } } Less Fundamentalist Christian } God wanted them to be fossil fuel. } } Eveready Battery Company } They didn't use the same battery as the Bunny. } } United States Internal Revenue Service } If you are a dinosaur, you must file form SAUR 1045B. } Please be sure to consider the presence of } turboencabulating factors in the depreciation of } the scales involved in the sale of the mammilian } deductions taken in form FR237-A..... } } Programmers } They never left. We have COBOL, don't we? } } But the truth is a bit more mundane: someone forgot to change the } litterbox and they left!