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

> Hey Orrie, the mailman left this strange package from > Hamburg, Germany adressed to you at my place by mistake.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} I sat on the sofa and looked at the package. It seemed innocent } enough, but looks could be deceiving. I racked my mind trying to } think of what it could be. There was no return address, only a } postal stamp from Hamburg. I had no clue what it was. I was just } about to have Zadoc open it, when it struck me. The last time I } was in Hamburg... } } Good gods! I quickly threw the package into the tub and turned } on the water. While I was doing that, Lisa grabbed the cordless } and booked a flight for Tibet. I was going to do what should } have been done a long time ago. } } The inn in Lhasa was silent as I shook the snow off my fur parka. } There was a small fire blazing in the center of the room, casting } orange highlights on the faces of the sherpas. I walked to the } bar and ordered a brandy. I  would need the warmth. } } "What can I do for you?" said the barmaid. } } "A brandy, and some information," I said. "I'm looking for } someone, someone by the name of ... Messner." } } I heard the slow drag of the chair as one of the sherpas stood up } from his table. I didn't need to see the gun to know it was there. I } dove over the bar and came up Zotting. The sherpas fell, one } after another, not one even getting close enough to worry me. } Then, the unfortunate thing happened. A Zot went wide, striking } a sherpa in the arm. The man screamed in pain, then staggered } through the fire, scattering burning embers throughout the bar. } } I climbed onto the bar and slid my Staff of Zot into my belt. } Catching my breath, I leapt upward and caught the chandalier. } Swinging halfway across the room, I pushed out with my feet, } striking a sherpa squarely in the chest. Using the momentum of } the kick, I swung back across the room. At the apex of my } swing, I let go of the chandalier and dove through the window, } landing in the snow below. } } I caught up to Messner halfway up the mountain. Even through } the blinding snow, I could tell it was him. Nobody would venture } into the Himalayas in a white leisure suit. He spotted me before } I was close enough to Zot him and broke into a run. } } I chased him as well as I could, but soon lost him in the driving } winds and snowfall. Suddenly, a shot rang out. I took cover } behind the nearest boulder. When a second shot nearly } knocked the feather off my cap, I knew which direction he was. } Slowly, I crept around to the far side of the boulder. Sure } enough, there was Messner, waiting for a shot. I set the staff on } "stun" and zapped him. He was still twitching as I walked over } to him. } } "Did you really think I would let you blackmail me, Reinhold?" } } "Orrie! Please, I don't know what you're talking about! I haven't } told a soul about the fake yeti! Please! Please don't kill me!" } } "You're not blackmailing me?" I asked, stunned. "So what was } in the box?" } } "What box? I didn't send you any box." } } Suddenly, it dawned on me. I returned to Lhasa to catch the next } flight to New Delhi. Upon returning home, I walked directly to the } bathroom, which now about two feet of water on the floor. There } was the package, sitting on the bottom of my new lake. I reached } down and tore open the water-logged package. There, before my } stunned eyes, were my two tickets to the World Congress of } Psychiatry, in Hamburg.

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

> Oh great Oracle, sweeter than saccharine, > > I need to change my .plan file.  Can you provide me with one?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Why bother. I mean, putting your plans for global domination, by } building an undersea fortress containing a doomsday bomb, in a } globally accessible file is not exactly smart, but James Bond } would have defeated you anyway. Why? } } (i) Posting hundreds of email messages directing people to } 'Make TNT Fast' is not exactly the best method of constructing } a doomsday bomb. } } (ii) It's bad enough taking a few minutes to describe your plans } to Mr Bond before you kill him. But, sitting him in front of } a screen while you construct a web site with shockwave and java } was a definite bad move. And let's not even go into sending Mr } Bond out for the Pizza and Mountain Dew. } } (iii) Perhaps you could have chosen just a *touch* less suspious } looking domain name than www.ruletheworld.com. } } (iv) Given the amount of time you spend stroking that cat, and } The fact that it has been given flea and/or worm treatment for } eight years meant that all Mr Bond had to do was stake out your } local pharmacist until he saw a customer walk in scratching himself } in embarrassing places. } } And finally; } } (v) Notice that splashing sound? Remember that $200,000 you paid } to consultants to make sure that your fortress was millenium } compatible? Remember their thin little moustaches and shifty } gazes? } } You owe The Oracle the explosives you collected. What? Two } soggy cap-gun caps and a one inch firecracker?

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

> Oh Great and Y2K compliant Oracle, since the whole Y2K thing turned out > to be a false alarm, what should I do with the 200 gallons of bottled > water and the 500 pounds of dried food?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} You have three options here: } } 1) Save it for the binary millenium in 48 years time, when the world } really *will* end. } } 2) Feed it to those greedy woodchucks. Dried food first, then the } water. *Swell*.... *pop*. Heh. } } 3) Try and get your money back. Say that you wanted only 2 } gallons of bottled water and 5 pounds of dried food, and that some } kind of Y2K bug messed up your order. } } You owe the Oracle a blast-hardened concrete bunker, and some } of those freeze-dried strawberries.

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

> Hi Dr O, how's it been? > > Listen, I've got here a pensive caucasian male in his late twenties. > Vitals are OK, good breath sounds l.a. Reflexes normal, no loss of > sensory perception. Both funny bones missing. No medical history, no > known allergies. Complains of low levels of blood, phlegm, and bile, > lab tests not in yet. Occupied as a computer geek of some kind. > Would you admit him?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} I don't know what you're talking about.  I never saw him before, and } anyone who says differently is LYING!!  Ahem.

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

> Howdy doodly doo, Mr. Oracle.  The name's Talkie.  Talkie Toaster. > Would you like some toast?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Sigh... first the freakin' dancing hand-blender, and now this? I mean, } what's next... a singing refrigerator? What is it with interactive } appliances? If I wanted to talk to the things that cook my food, } I'd have kept my mother around.

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

> Oracle most employable, > I know it's not hard to find work in this industry, but how did that > guy manage to get a job here?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Kendai? Zadoc here. } Who's next on the docket? } What's his last name again? } Uh-huh, got it. Yeah send him in. } } Ah, Mr. Brian Fred Zambi, is it? } Oh well, close enough. Please, have a seat. } Excuse me a second while I look over your resume. } Hmm. } Oh, and if I can offer you any refreshments, coffee, tea, soda ... } No, I don't have any PEZ. } What dispenser? } You mean the staple... I see. } No- No thank you. I, uh, I had some earlier. } Really? No, I didn't know they were tangy. } Ah, well, back to the matter at hand. Can you tell me a little about }   your last job? } No, I'm not familiar with that. } } So, you created the speed bump? } } Oh, I see, well, that explains the treadmarks. } } So why did you leave your last job? } Hmm. } Really. } I see. } Really? } Yes, the jury certainly was lenient, weren't they? } } It says here that you graduated with a Masters in BioSciences. } Hmm? } Ah, yes, quite right. I did misread that. } So does this "Master" have a degree? } Yes, well, I may need to verify that, can I have his address? } Oh, I understand. } No, I'm sure I can find record of the incident at the morgue. } } Oh, one second while I take this call please. } } Oh man, it's the Head Cheese again. Wonder if it's serious or if he has }   his head up his } Yes Oh Wise One, Knower of All Things and Employer in Good Standing. } The position? } No Most Exaulted One, it's still open. } Yes, we have been interviewing a lot of applicants, but none have proved }   worthy of serving... } He did not have the degree you requested, oh Lord of... } She had minimal computer skills, Great Typer of ... } Dead, and had been for some time, Grand Embalm... } She was the one with the drooling problem, Wiper of... } She kept explaining herself and was quite annoying, Summoner of... } I am but a simple servant of your... } Yes, I know that you need... } Yes, I know it's quite urgent... } But if the candidates are not ... } No, I am NOT doing this to annoy you. } Yes, Quite urgent indeed, Oh Repeater of... } Right away, Grand Master of.. } Thank you, Merciful... } Absolutely, Thank you Oh Patient... } Hello? } And the horse you rode in on, Great Breaker of Wind! } } *Sigh* } } Acquitted right? } } Never found the body, right? } } } Congratulations, you're hired. } } } You owe the Oracle a W-2.

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

> Oh Oracle most wise, i humbly ask how i might best slice a pineapple

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} The best way is slightly counterintuitive and somewhat dependant upon } your chosen profession. } } If, for instance, you're a particle physisist working at Livermore } Labs, you obviously want to use the Really Big laser. The has two } additional benefits beyone the obvious: 1) the pineapple flesh is } cautorized thus preventing splatter and 2) you don't need to clean up } any silverware. Sadly the pineapple is sometime crushed down to the } approximate denisty of neutronium and cooled to the point that it turns } into an Einsetin-Bose condensate. } } If you're an Avionics Engineer, you need to dig out the Supersonic } Frozen Chicken Launcher that is used to test the impact resistance of } an F-15 cockpit. With a few minor monification, you'll have this thing } launching pineapples instead of frozen chickens. The befenits are } obvious and the results would even please Tim "The Tool Man" Taylor. } The downside is that cleaning up the targert is a bitch. } } If you're a high powered stock broker unhindered by anything remembling } ethics or morals (Warren Buffet, Mike Milken, Ivan Boesky, etc, etc) } you'll need to purchase a controlling interest in Dupont. The } possibilities here are endless and all qualify as excellent. } } My personal favorite is to just use an old Japanese Katana. It's simple } and elegant, and it impressives the natives no end.

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

> How does one go about avoiding digestion, while still getting funny > answers?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Take your cue from modern medicine -- use encapsulation!  Simply } write a great question, and wrap it in a coat of old marmot pelts, } moldy scifi references, and stale in-jokes.  These items are certainly } indigestible.  A clever incarnation will recognize this strategy } and send a funny answer similarly coated.  The incarnations who } aren't that clever... well, their answers weren't in any danger of } digestion anyway, were they? } } As for the priests, they're clever enough, but most of them have } had their own digestions ruined by a constant diet of the stale } materials previously mentioned.  So they'll probably look away, } nauseated, before they have a chance to recognize the funny bits } encapsulated within. } } You owe the Oracle something -- anything! -- really fresh.

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

> what happens when i answer the question u send me?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} The supplicant who asked it resubmits question to me for a better } answer.

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

> O Oracle, larger and more important than the vastness of Outer Space, > tell me what happened to Y2K?   I thought everything was supposed to > come crashing down, with electricity, telephones, banks, governments > and maybe even Oracles unable to function.  You yourself probably would > not have been able to get enough volts to ZOT anyone, already. > > Yet here we are, with the numbers clicked over to 2000, and everything > is working normally.  All my fears were wasted!  What wnet wrong?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} <Tip tap tip tap tip tap tip tap> } } <Knock Knock Knock> } } Er, Hello? } } Is anybody there? } } Hmm, Where's everybody gone? The Oracluar Temple seems very quiet } today. I doubt if I'll even need to clean the place, no-one seems to } have made any mess at all. } } It looks like the Oracle has left his terminal on. Thats rather remiss } of one so wise. I've always wanted to have a go at one of these } questions!! Lets see what it says! } } > O Oracle, larger and more important than the vastness of Outer Space, } > tell me what happened to Y2K?   I thought everything was supposed to } > come crashing down, with electricity, telephones, banks, governments } > and maybe even Oracles unable to function.  You yourself probably } > would not have been able to get enough volts to ZOT anyone, already. } > } > Yet here we are, with the numbers clicked over to 2000, and everything } > is working normally.  All my fears were wasted!  What wnet wrong? } } Tsk Tsk Tsk, look at all the dusk on this keyboard! The Oracle } definately hasn't been here all day, his whizzing fingers would have } kept this baby dust free for sure. Now, where did I put that Mr } Muscle......... } } <Tip tap tip tap tip tap tip tap> } } <shuffle crash bang> } } <Tip tap tip tap tip tap tip tap> } } <hisssssSSSS> } } Ah thats better. } } Now, what have we here..... Y2K you say? Hmm, } electricity....hmmm...crashing down..... Oracles unable to function!!! } My God! Maybe thats what happenned!! The Oracle has been struck down! } No wonder its so quiet today. } } This has got to be contained, got to be kept under wraps. I dont want } to be resonsible for worldwide panic. Think dammit, think. } } Got it, } } Here is what I'll put:- } } And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } } } Nothing to worry about mate, er, Supplicant. (Ahem) } } Everthing is just fine here, Lisa, Og, Woodc***ks, questions, etc. } } See? } } } } Right. } } } } You owe the Oracle a new can of Mr Muscle } } Phew, that outta do it. Plus I really COULD do with a new can of Mr } Muscle.  So much marble to polish round this place...... } } Hang On, I hear something.....  <tip tap tip tap tip tap> } } Its the Oracle!!! } } "Now Now Arkon, you know you're not supposed to touch the Oracular } Terminal" } } Yes sir, sorry sir, but I thought you were gone. } } "Gone? Whatever gave you that idea? Truth of the matter is I just } couldn't handle answering another of those damned Y2K questions! } You should see them all! Will the world come to an end? Will the } banks all crash? Will I be able to find new batteries for my electric } can opener? Dont they realize that the millenium isn't until the } end of NEXT year? Fools! The queue has been clogged up with them for } weeks now. I just hought I'd go for a walk, clear my head and try to } hold off from ZOTTing them." } } "However, it seems that SOMEOME has decided to do my job for me. } Now, you KNOW the punishment for that, don't you Arkon?" } } Yes sir, Sorry s---ZOTT--- } } "Really, Good staff is so hard to find....."