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

> Er, Oh great Oracle, who can read... no, that's not right. Oh, wise > Oracle, who knows why... No, everybody knows that. Oh, wise Oracle, > who knows what...  No, that would be considered rude... Oracle, most > wise, who can... er ...understand... um ...episodes of the X-Files... > er, no that not right ...Oh, great Oracle, who will forgive me if I > don't grovel properly, > > I seem to have trouble, well, with my grovels. Can you give me any > suggestions to improve my groveling technique?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} The Oracle's top six ways to improve your grovelling technique } (keeping in mind that experience is the best teacher): } } 6. At 3:21 AM, wake up from a dream involving Al Gore and a vat of } kiwi-strawberry Jello only to realize you're out of feminine protection } products just when you need them most. Run down to the only 24-hour } store within a 24-mile radius of your house only to realize you're } short 47 cents--but you have your checkbook with you. Recall that } your last three checks to said store were as bad as three-month-old } cottage cheese. } } 5. During the second semester of your senior year in college, become } so intensely involved in the competitive Scrabble circuit that you } have to forgo studying for one class--as it happens, the class you } need in order to complete your major (Comparative Political Economy } of Enviro-Latino-Hetero-Sociobiological Studies). Write your 25-page } research paper for said class during a single 37-hour period with the } help of your favorite Anthrax CD (on "repeat" play) and 37 cartons } of "Buzz Gum".  Pay the professor a little visit only to discover, } to your surprise (since you've been spending your time memorizing } two-letter words (ai, ay, ex, ax, eh, en...) instead of going to class) } that she is not oriented towards your gender--a discovery that comes } after your tongue has already ventured where it shouldn't have. } } 4. Having earned an advanced degree in computer science (which } was really your favorite subject all along, never mind that those } with credentials in said discipline make, on average, $107,540 } more per year than experts in Comparative Political Economy of } Enviro-Latino-Hetero-Sociobiological Studies (all three of them)) } and having had 23 major and minor software companies refuse to hire } you due to your lack of social skills, in a frantic last-ditch effort } apply for a cashier job at the local Mall-Mart.  Answer incorrectly } to the interviewer's final question, "What is 24 minus 11?" because } you thought the numbers were in hex. } } 3. Go to the supermarket and load the following items into your cart: } a large can of Spam, two dozen jumbo eggs, a liter of Diet Mr. } Pibb, a package of frozen blueberries, a box of "Count Chocula" } cereal, half a pound of Havarti, a pound of carrots, a quart of Ben } & Jerry's Killer Gorilla ice cream, a small can of Comet, a box of } Biore Nose Strips, a large bottle of cough syrup, a box of Q-Tips, } and the latest issue of "Big 'n Bouncy" magazine. Try to get into } the "Express 12 Items or Less" line. } } 2. At long last, find a significant other who is willing to put up with } your chronic inner thigh warts and your habit of blowing your nose on } dish towels, but who is more vanilla than a pudding convention. While } spending a cozy evening together, let this person check their email } from your computer--then remember that your current wallpaper is a } GIF you downloaded from alt.binaries.pictures.sex.fetish.lizard.tumor. } } And the Oracle's number one way to improve your grovelling technique } is-- } } 1. Keep asking the Oracle how to grovel better, receiving a tiresome } formulaic answer like this one every time, until you decide to be } content with your current level of grovelling skill rather than trying } to improve--it's the American way! } } You owe the Oracle a subscription to "Big 'n Bouncy".

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

> The Oracle is mightier in thought than all the world's minds gathered > as one. He thinks more great thoughts over his morning bowl of Lucky > Charms(tm) cereal than any 24 Nobel prize laureates had in their entire > combined lives. Truly the Oracle is wise, truly he is a great gift to > us lowly mortals! And for this we can not thank the Oracle enough. . . > > Back around 250 B.C. when the Emperor Qin took over most of what is now > China, he had his evil assistant Lisi burn "all unnecessary writings". > What texts were lost to the world due to this act?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} It wasn't as sharp a blow to the world of literacy as you might expect. } When Qin said "unnecessary," he had a reason. Check out some of the } titles: } } * "The Art of Painting Cattle," by Wo Qon } * "174 Days to a More Annoying Lyre Technique," by Hong Ti Fq } * 76 volumes of "Chicken Soup" scrolls, including "Chicken Soup for the }   Dirt Farmer's Soul","Chicken Soup for the Eunuch Harem Manager's }   Soul", and "Chicken Soup for the Monk Who Has Transcended The Concept }   of Soul's Soul" } * "Practical Abacus Hacking," by Han So Fat } * Every book in the "Oh Pra" reader's club book list, including "The }   Deep End of the Yangtze" } * "Mu Shu vs. Kung Pao: A Critical Assessment," from the University of }   Shanghai Press. } * All twelve volumes of "The Kung Fu Mime: Lessons in Expression and }   Self-Defense," by Wo Tia Hong } } To Emperor Qin's credit, he did manage to make some pretty good } assessments of books to keep around, such as "Kicking Mongolia's Ass," } by Alli Khan, and "Pronouncing the 'L' in Twelve Easy Lessons," by Li } Li Lichi (which, unfortunately, was later burned in frustration by } Emperor Lo, who later changed his name to Emperor Ro). } } You owe the Oracle a charred copy of "Monica's Story."

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

> OH Oracle, master of obscure references... > > what movie (if it is a movie) does "bullets won't stop it" come from?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} The famous phrase "bullets won't stop it!" originated not in a movie, } but in real life. } } In the fall of 1989, an experimental artifical-intelligence cursor } called "#" turned renegade and escaped into the Stanford Unviersity } computer network.  Emergency computer technicians were called onto the } scene as # began wreaking havoc in word-processors all over the campus. } Here is a partial transcript of what followed. } } ------------------------------------------------------------------------ } } ####### }       #    #################### }       #    #                  # }       ######                  # }                               #                 THERE IT IS!! }                     ########### }                     # }                     # }                     # }                     #                           WE HAVE TO TRAP IT! }                     # }                     # }                     # }                     # }          +---------\#/---------------+ }          |          #                | }          |          #                | }          +---------\#/---------------+ }                     # }                     # }                     # } +------------------\#/----+ } |                   #     | } |                   #     | } +------------------\#/----+ }                     # }                     # }                     # }                     # }                     # }                 +--\#/-----------------------+ }                 |   #  IT'S NO USE!!!        | }                 |   #                        | }                 +--\#/-----------------------+ }                     # }                     # }                     # }        +-----------\#/-------------+ }        | BULLETS WON#T STOP IT!!   | }        |            #              | }        +-----------\#/-------------+ }                     # }                     # }                     # }                     # }                     # }                     # }                     # }                     # }                     # }  - - - - - - - - - \#/ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - }                     #        PAGE BREAKS WON'T STOP IT!! }                     # }                     # }                     # }                     # }                     # }                     # }                     # }                     # } ********************#************************************************* } * ..  ..  ..  ..  ..# ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  .. ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  * } *   ..  ..  ..  ..  #.  ..  .. BANNERS WON'T STOP IT!!  ..  ..  ..   * } * ..  ..  ..  ..  ..# ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  .. * } ********************#************************************************* }                     # }                     # }                     # }                     # }                     # }                     # }                     # }                     #              IT'S.......... }                     # }                     #              IT'S INVINCIBLE!!! }                     # }                     # }                     # }                     # }                     # }                     # }                     # }                   ### }          ########## } ########## }                              OH NO!  IT'S HEADED FOR THE DNS!!! } } ------------------------------------------------------------------------ } } #'s reign of terror lasted 2 days and 14 hours, until he was finally } captured in Stanford's news archive of alt.binaries.pictures.erotica. } (It seems that his creators made him a little TOO human.)  The cursor } was promptly destroyed.  The news story was withheld from the media for } fear that some heedless programmer might try to duplicate Stanford's } efforts.  But now you know the truth. } } You owe the Oracle the premier episode of "The #-files."

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

> It was quiet. . . too quiet.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} It was quiet... too quiet. } } Then it was loud... too loud. } } Quiet again... too quiet. } } And once more, loud... way too loud. } } "Damn snooze button," I mumbled to myself as I got out of bed and } checked the time:  late... too late.

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

> Oh, most wise Oracle, who is mentioned in the Net.Legends FAQ, old > as it is, and who dates to the times before NNTP, > > I've heard you do a pretty mean Robert McElwaine imitation. > > I'd like to hear it.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Path: oracle!zadoc-is-a-worm!goddess-lisa!cs.indiana.edu } From: The Internet Oracle <oracle@cs.indiana.edu> } Newsgroups: rec.humor.oracle.d,sci.physics,rec.pets.cats,comp.lang.c } Subject: Net.legends } Date: Wed, 31 Mar 1999 13:17:01 +0500 } Message-ID: <e^(i(pi)+1@cs.indiana.edu> } }                 MARK-OF-THE-BEA$T Micro$oft Program$ } }          ALL Supplicants are PROHIBITED by Man page pine(1) from }          usiing with the "MARK-OF-THE-BEA$T" Micro$oft Program$, }          Word Proce$$ors, and Web Browsing $y$tem$, (as found in }          local libraries, universities, Internet cafes, etc.), }          which also THREATEN to SUBVERT Entire Free World. } }          The Program$ can serve THE SAME CRIMINAL PURPOSE as the }          virus-carrying bees on The TV Show X-Files. } }          Micro$oft Internet Explorer (or Internet Extorter) is }          the worst form of thie MARK OF THE BEA$T, with the }          checksum 666 IN EACH DLL.  The so-called progress bar }          is really a HYPNOTIC MIND CONTROL DEVICE that sucks }          the will of the True Supplicant. } }          WARN YOUR FRIENDS! } }          UN-altered REPRODUCTION and DISSEMINATION of this IMPORTANT }          Oracularity is ENCOURAGED. } }                                    The Internet Oracle }                                    2nd Initiate in procmail, }                                    (but not an agent thereof)

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

> Oh Oracle most wise... > > What is the maximum number of cats one should have in his/her > household?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} An average household will need many cats. } } One to occupy the couch. } Two to fight over the bed in the middle of the night. } One to sleep on the cooktop and one on the fridge. } One cat to drape over the back of your favorite arm chair and another }   to curl up on the seat cushion. } A cat in the corner of the wardrobe nursing a litter of kittens. } A cat whose job it is to lie on any opened newspaper or magazine. } A cat who does nothing but shed fur in the kitchen. } A cat in the bathroom squatting in the bath. } Numerous cats to chase ghosts and imaginary insects. } Cats to hiss at other cats through screen doors. } Cats that like visitors and cats that panic whenever visitors call. } Cats to mew and scratch at any closed door. } Two cats to use the kitty litter and another who prefers the garage }   floor. } And fifteen or more cats, belonging to the neighbors, who come in }   just to eat the cat food your cats wont touch. } } The alternative to this bedlam is: } } One dog.

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

> The Supplicant has pondered your answer deeply. > Your answer was: > > } *ZOT*! > } > } (Heh heh heh...) > } > } You owe the Oracle sacks filled with money.  FILLED, got it?  And be > } quick about it. > > And in response, thus spake the Supplicant: > > > Ah, how very typical of you, Oracle.  A meaningless (not to mention > > painful) answer, a tactless demand for exorbitant recompense.  But > > this time I get the last laugh, don't I?  Ho ho ho! > > > > You owe the Supplicant 50% of your profits for the next 20 years. > > You owe the Supplicant the Hope Diamond.  You owe the Supplicant the > > skull of "Lucy."  You owe the Supplicant three Carribean islands.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Damn! I thought they'd never figure out they could ask for things back } too. Let's hope that somebody's given me some of this stuff in the } past. } }     <beep beep boop beep> <trr trr, trr trr, trr trr> } } Come on, come on... } }     <trr trr, click> "Oracular Temple Stores." } } Oh, hullo Stores, this is the Oracle... } }     "Oh hi, big guy! How's it hanging? It's Vinnie here." } } Vinnie who? } }     "You know! Vinnie! Last year's Christmas bash, remember?" } } I'm afraid my recollection of that evening is somewhat hazy... } }     "No kidding - you were flying, man! You don't even remember those }     two chicks from Accounts you and me hit on? How could you forget }     that?" } } Evidently I have a very fastidious subconscious. Look, er, Vinnie, much } as I'm enjoying this trip down amnesia lane, I need to check if we've } got some items in Stores. Among the gifts from my supplicants, okay? } }     "Sure thing, boss! Just let me fire up the old database... Right, }     what can I do you for?" } } Have we got the Hope Diamond in there? } }     "Umm... nnnnope." } } Any diamonds at all? Other gems? } }     "We got a rhinestone from Liberace's Y-fronts. Is that any good?" } } Hey, that must be worth something. } }     "That's if it's really from Liberace. Me, I reckon it could be from }     pretty well anywhere." } } Don't you check? } }     "What? On my budget?" } } Okay, moving on swiftly. I also need the skull of Lucy. } }     "Lucy who?" } } She's a fossil. } }     "Ah, not one of those chicks from Accounts, then." } } No. What about three Caribbean islands? } }     "Nope." } } Any islands? Beaches? Coral reefs? Real estate of any form or } description? } }     "Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope." } } Three of anything? } }     "Lemme see. Yeah! We've got three milligrams of smegma. How's about }     that?" } } Yeuch! I asked someone for three milligrams of smegma? } }     "Well, according to the records, what you actually asked for was... }     three kilograms of Beluga caviar and peace in Kosovo. But the }     supplicant said he couldn't afford that, so he sent you the smegma }     instead." } } Let's approach this from a different angle. What have we got of value? } }     "What do you mean by value, exactly?" } } Say, over $100,000. } }     "That would be nothing." } } Over $10,000? $1000? Fifty bucks? } }     "How's about if I just list what we got?" } } Err... go on, then. } }     "The aforementioned rhinestone, the aforementioned smegma, a used }     lottery scratch card, two small tubs of non-dairy coffee creamer, }     one pencil, one jelly baby, pink, without a head, William Shatner's }     toupee..." } } Hey, that must be... } }     "...That's if it's really William Shatner's." } } And that's the lot? } }     "And a bucket of anthrax. That's..." } } Yeah, yeah, that's if it's really anthrax. } }     "No, that's empty. Don't you remember at the Christmas bash, when }     the punch ran out?" } } You used the anthrax?! } }     "Hey man, it was your idea! Anyway, no harm done - nobody died." } } I know I've asked for more than just that over the years... } }     "Well, thing is, those supplicants don't always give you what you }     ask for, you know? Well, hardly ever, actually." } } So if there's virtually nothing in Stores, why do we bother to employ } you? } }     "Wait a minute there, man! I do an essential job, you know! This }     operation would grind to a halt in days without me!" } } I'll bear that in mind. Well, thank you, er, Vinnie... } }     "See you at the next Christmas bash, boss!" <click> } } Call it omniscience or intuition, Vinnie, but something tells me you } won't... } } Ahem. Well, dear supplicant, I've encountered a couple of minor snags } fulfilling your order, but you'll be pleased to hear they're all sorted } out now. Yes, you will shortly be in receipt of a rhinestone which may } or may not have adorned Liberace's underpants, three milligrams of } grade A smegma, and the skull of an unemployed Stores manager who, } while not necessarily a bona fide Australopithecus afarensis, is } definitely protohuman. } } Oh, and I expect to be running at a loss for the next 20 years, so the } profits will be negative. Consequently, you owe the Oracle sacks filled } with money.  FILLED, got it?  And let's really see them this time.

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

> GIRL SCOUT COOKIES!!

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Well, if you insist... } } www.gsusa.org   FALSE   /       FALSE   1293753925      EGSOFT_ID } 207.172.73.95-1162851760.29260940 } www.gsusa.org   FALSE   /       FALSE   1293753925      EGSOFT_ID } 207.172.73.95-1162851760.29260940 } www.gsusa.org   FALSE   /       FALSE   1293753925      EGSOFT_ID } 207.172.73.95-1162851760.29260940 } www.gsusa.org   FALSE   /       FALSE   1293753925      EGSOFT_ID } 207.172.73.95-1162851760.29260940 } } You owe the Oracle a Brownie.

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

> O Oracle most logical, whose dictionary I am not fit to polish, and who > never gets confused by word puzzles.... > >   I just learnt that "autological" means a word that describes itself. > > My question is, is innuendo autological?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Greetings, and salutates omnes. I am your humble servant Orrio, slave } and general factotum to Senator Ludicrus Sextus of Pompeii... FACtotum, } I said. Keep a lid on it, you lot. Honestly! Yes, I am Lurcio, and I am } here to recite the autologue. Let me just get comfortable... Ooh! My } goodness, that stone's cold! Sends a chill right up the fundamentals. } Ahh, that's better. } } That's right, it's _that_ Ludicrus Sextus. The one who tried to } introduce a bill before the Senate outlawing the brothels, under the } slogan "copulationem expensivus est." As I'm sure you all know. Of } course, the Senate wouldn't have it. Otherwise they wouldn't have it, } if you see what I mean. } } Ahem... The Autologue. "And it came to pass in..." What? Excuse me a } minute, it's the Master's daughter, Erotica. You know her, don't you? } Well, if you don't, you're the only one in this town who doesn't, } let me tell you! What is it, Mistress? Have I seen your what? Your } unmentionables? I most certainly have not, the very idea! Where did } you lose them? Oh, could be almost anywhere then. Next time, keep } them about your person. Yes, and you. Ooh, she's terrible, that girl, } absolutely terrible. But what would poor Orrio know? I don't get it, } you see. No, not at all, titter ye not. Such is the lot of a poor } slave... and it's not a lot at that. Though with all this sitting on } cold stone benches, you'd think I'd get something... } } As I was saying: The Autologue. "And it..." Now what? Yes, good day to } you too, young Master. It's the Master's son, Nausius. You know, the } one who... oh, you _do_ know? Well, I wish you'd tell me. Steady on, } Madam. } } Yes, young Master, it is a beautiful day. The most beautiful day there } ever was, you say? You're not in love again, are you? How did I guess? } How many times is it this week? No, that you've fallen in love! Well, } come on, tell your Uncle Orrio: who's the lucky girl? Promiscua? Yes, } I think I know her. Isn't she the one with the very well developed... } credentials? And you've written a poem to express your love? Why yes, } I'd love to read it. Ahem... "Promiscua, you stole my heart..." Well, } it starts well. "Promiscua, you stole my heart, I love you all to } bitties; I love your each and every part, but most of all your..." It } ends there. Oh, you were stuck for a rhyme, were you? Well, I'm sure } it will come to you... in a flash of inspiration, so to speak. Just } think about your sweetheart... that's it, conjure up an image in your } mind's eye, and see if anything looms large. No? Well, keep it up, and } eventually you'll get them, I mean _it_, I mean the rhyme. Yes, the } RHYME! Ooh, you can't say anything in front of this lot. } } Right, are we finished with the interruptions? Good, then on with the } autologue. Where was I? Oh, yes: The Autologue. "And it came to..." Oh, } for goodness sake! It's Senna the Soothsayer. She's a few slave girls } short of an orgy, if you know what I mean. Totum doolallium. Woe, woe, } woe, yes I know, dear, woe, woe. Don't mock. Oh no, Missus, don't mock } poor old Senna. She can't help it, poor soul, no. Ever since her } husband met with that terrible accident. You know, he was stabbed } through the arras, and... The ARRAS! Yes, never mind what _you_ were } thinking. Ooh, they're a rough lot tonight, I don't know where they get } them. } } What's that you say, Senna my dear? Flood, famine, fire from the skies, } all the usual stuff, right. Anything else? The slaves are revolting? } DO you mind! Go on, be off with you. Of all the nerve! Revolting, } indeed. Huh! } } The Au-to-logue! "And it..." Alright, that's it, I give up! Yes, } Plautus the Playwright, I'm trying to do the autologue, but with all } these continual interruptions... What? The autologue, you know, to } start the play. Oh, that's a prologue. Well, what's an autologue? A } word that describes itself. And nothing else? I don't think I know any } of those. Oh well, I might as well jack it in then. In, IN! Oh, really! } I wish I hadn't started. And you can stop that and all.

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

> Oh Oracle most wise,and gracious of the universe. > > Why oh why is it always me that has to put the toilet roll > on the toilet roll holder when it runs out?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} In actual fact it's because of all the people living with you, you're } the only person who bothers to use paper. } } Remember that the next time it's someone else's turn to cook dinner. } } You owe The Oracle some dried leaves.