[IO]
Internet Oracle
21 Dec 2024 home : about : create : digests : bestofs : specials : priests 12:22:03 GMT

Internet Oracularities #1199

Goto:
1199, 1199-01, 1199-02, 1199-03, 1199-04, 1199-05, 1199-06, 1199-07, 1199-08, 1199-09, 1199-10


Internet Oracularities #1199    (67 votes, 2.9 mean)
Compiled-By: Steve Kinzler <kinzler@cs.indiana.edu>
Date: Fri, 5 Jan 2001 10:34:45 -0500 (EST)

To find out all about the Internet Oracle (TM), including how to
participate, send mail to oracle@cs.indiana.edu with the word "help"
in the subject line.  ("Internet Oracle" is a trademark of Stephen
B Kinzler.)

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:
   1199
   2 1 3 4 3   5 3 3 4 1

1199  67 votes 57gkj aho97 6b9lk bcjfa 75tk6 dkkb3 lmf72 almb3 glhb2 cnjb2
1199  2.9 mean  3.6   2.8   3.6   3.0   3.2   2.6   2.2   2.6   2.4   2.5


1199-01    (57gkj dist, 3.6 mean)
Selected-By: Ian Davis

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

>  Listen to me humans of Earth! The greatest of all your benefactors
>  is the Wise Oracle! In requital of his glorious deeds, you have
>  justly allotted by statute a share of your libations and drink-
>  offerings in every temple and at every public service, whom, in
>  hymns and in worship, you treat as the equals of gods of old and
>  the demigods of your own feeble times!
>
>  What is the Ancient Egyptian God Set up to now a days?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} He started up a law firm with his buddies Game and Match.
}
} Yeah I know, I know, that was a real sucky answer. But - let's face
} it, supplicant - all the good answers have been done. There's no way
} anything one of these latter-day incarnations can come up with is
} going to get within waving distance of the all-time top 1000 digested
} responses, so what's the point of even trying? For your benefit?
} You're probably some pubescoid CS student with all the charisma and
} lively intellect of two-week-old roadkill.
}
} Don't start crying on me! God, I hate it when supplicants blub.
}
} *sigh* All right, I'll try again. Just this once, mind - don't think
} I'm making a habit of it. Lemme see now...
}
} He's not doing too well, actually. After the murder of his brother
} Osiris and attempted murder of his nephew Horus, Set wasn't any too
} popular with the rest of the Egyptian pantheon. So when he arrived in
} the underworld after his own mortal form was killed at the battle of
} Edfu, they weren't about to give him one of the plum jobs, as this
} excerpt from the Address to the Gods of the Tuat, Papyrus of Nu
} (British Museum No. 10477, Sheet 24) testifies:
}
}   THE FOLLOWING ARE THE WORDS WHICH THE HEART OF TRUTH THAT IS SINLESS
}   SHALL SAY WHEN HE COMETH WITH THE WORD OF TRUTH INTO THE HALL OF
}   MAATI; THEY SHALL BE SAID WHEN HE COMETH TO THE GODS WHO DWELL IN THE
}   TUAT; AND THEY ARE THE WORDS WHICH ARE TO BE SAID AFTER HE COMETH
}   FORTH FROM THE HALL OF MAATI.
}
}   Homage to you, O ye gods who dwell in your Hall of Maati! I know you,
}   I know your names. Let me not fall under your knives of slaughter,
}   and bring ye not forward my wickedness. Let not evil hap come upon
}   me through you. Speak ye the truth concerning me in the presence of
}   Neb-er-tcher, for I have done what is right and just in Ta-Mera.
}
}   Homage to you, O ye who dwell in your Hall of Maati, and deliver ye
}   me from Beba, who feedeth upon the livers of the mighty on the Day
}   of Great Judgement! Grant ye that I may come before you, for I have
}   not committed sin, and I have heard that great word which the Sahu
}   spake to the CAT, in the House of Hapt-ra. I have borne witness to
}   Her-f-ha-f, and he hath given a decision concerning me. I have seen
}   the things over which the Persea tree, which is in Rasta, spreadeth
}   its branches. I have come, travelling a long road, to bear righteous
}   testimony, and to set the Balance upon its supports within Aukert.
}
}   Then shall the two-and-forty gods say unto me, "Who art thou?" And
}   they say unto me, "What is thy name?"
}
}   And I reply, "Sept-kheri-nehait-ammi-beq-f is my name."
}
}   And Anubis saith: "I will not announce thee unless thou tellest
}   the name of the god who dwelleth in his hour. Speak it."
}
}   And I reply, "Au-taui, who is called Thoth."
}
}   "Speak up," saith Thoth, "for what purpose hast thou come?"
}
}   And I reply: "I have come, and have journeyed hither that my name
}   may be announced to the gods."
}
}   Osiris saith: "In what condition art thou?"
}
}   And I reply, "I, even I, am purified from evil defects, and I am
}   wholly free from the curses of those who live in their days, and I
}   am not one of their number."
}
}   Set saith, "Hast thou anything to declare?"
}
}   And I, somewhat taken aback, reply, "Come again?"
}
}   And Set saith, "Hast thou duty free goods or alcohol? Hast thou
}   more than the permitted four bottles of wine or two of spirits upon
}   thy person? Hast thou firearms? Art thou bearing fruit?"
}
}   And I reply, "I think not."
}
}   Then Set saith, "Art thou carrying a parcel for anyone else? Hath
}   anyone packed thy bags apart from thee thyself? Have thy bags been
}   out of thy sight for any length of time?"
}
}   And I reply, "Look, is all this really necessary? I'm dead, for
}   crying out loud!"
}
}   Set saith, "What is the purpose of thy visit to the afterlife -
}   business or pleasure? Hast thou filled in thy immigration form?
}   What is the expected duration of thy stay?"
}
} Hmm... On reflection, I think I liked my first answer better.


1199-02    (aho97 dist, 2.8 mean)
Selected-By: "Kirsten R. Chevalier" <krc@erythrea.wellesley.edu>

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

> This isn't funny.  I told you once before that I don't take
> incompetence lightly.
>
> If you ever do that again, I'll be forced to introduce you to a new
> kind of pain ...

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Bob was the scariest person in his newsgroup, whenever anyone
} made a spelling error he lambasted them all and then posted
} .wav files of his accordion playing.


1199-03    (6b9lk dist, 3.6 mean)
Selected-By: "Kirsten R. Chevalier" <krc@erythrea.wellesley.edu>

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

> Flowers For Thagernon
> A Short Story

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

}    (From the Journal of Doctor Orrie) Tuesday, the 27th - The mouse,
} Piezo, continues to excel in every intelligence test I can give him. It
} would seem that the surgery was a success. Today, I arrived at the lab
} to discover that he had escaped from his cage by jamming the water bowl
} underneath the exercise wheel and climbing up it like a latter. Then he
} attached one of the Bunsen burners to the portable heater and was
} attempting to cut through the laboratory door when I arrived. Of
} course, this may have been a learned behavior. If only I had some proof
} that he was truly intelligent.
}
}    Doctor Orrie continued his speech into the small black box. Thag
} shifted the bucket of sloppy water around to the other side of the
} doctor and continued mopping. It was often that the doctor used words
} that Thag didn't understand, but it was only recently that the small
} mouse Thag fed late at nights began to use words that were too big.
} Thag used to have no trouble understanding him. Lately, however, it was
} all Thag could do to keep his mind focused on the poker games he and
} the mouse played.
}
}    "I would like to further my research," continued the doctor, "with a
} mammal of higher order. Unfortunately those bastards at the FDA won't
} allow it without further trials on mice."
}
}    Thag grunted as he scrubbed a small, burnt spot on the floor where
} the doctor had, in a fit of rage, thrown a vial of acid at Zadoc
} yesterday. When it seemed that the spot wouldn't clean, Thag got down
} on his knees and pulled out the wire brush that he kept in his shirt
} pocket for just such stubborn stains. If there was one thing that Thag
} knew how to do, it was be a janitor, and Thag was proud of that fact.
}
}    "If only I had some form of creature that the FDA had no knowledge
} of," the doctor said. "Some creature that could prove the abilities of
} my research once and for..."
}
}    At that point, Thag was moving the bucket around behind the doctor
} again, having given up on the burnt spot. The doctor, who was obviously
} paying more attention to his notes, stepped directly backward and
} planted his foot firmly in the bucket of soapy, grimy water.
}
}    "Dangit!" he yelled. His foot was covered in slime and hairballs. He
} looked at the foot, then at Thag. "You idiot! You worthless, mindless,
} incompetent, stupid..."
}
}    At that point the doctor's eyes lit up. He glanced up and down Thag,
} sizing him up.
}
}    "Yes. An idiot. A perfect idiot! Oh Thag! I could kiss you!" he
} said, placing his hands on Thag's shoulders.
}
}    "Thag not like men," Thag said, shooing the doctor's hands away.
} "Thag heh-ter-uh-ro."
}
}    The doctor called Zadoc into the lab and the two had a private
} whisper at the door, both looking in Thag's direction. Thag thought for
} sure that he was to be fired and when the doctor and Zadoc approached
} him, he was certainly frightened. He looked at the doctor and lowered
} his eyes to the floor. He never noticed Zadoc circle around behind him
} and it was too late when he felt the sting on his rear end. Soon, he
} grew drowsy and everything went black.
}
}    (From the Journal of Doctor Orrie) Wednesday, the 28th - I anxiously
} await Thag's awakening. The operation went smoothly, much more smoothly
} than it did with Piezo, perhaps because there was more room to work and
} their brains are about the same size. I have Lisa bringing Thag some
} coffee with breakfast in the hopes that it will awaken him.
}
}    The smell was unlike anything Thagernon had ever experienced. It
} wasn't fear, it wasn't a rutting female, it was something unlike any
} scent Thagernon had ever detected. It was...
}
}    "Food!" Thagernon said, sitting up. "I've never really smelled food
} before!"
}
}    "Well," Lisa said, sitting the tray down next to the bed. "I see
} you're feeling better."
}
}    "My head is a bit woozy, but I'll be all right," Thagernon replied,
} itching mindlessly at the bandages around his head. "This is truly
} amazing! I've never smelled anything except the scents on the hunt! Oh!
} This bacon smells incredible! Mmmm! I've never imagined that properly
} cooked meats could taste like this!"
}
}    "Here," Lisa said, handing him a mug. "Drink this coffee, it'll
} clear away the grogginess from the anesthesia."
}
}    At that moment, the doctor and Zadoc arrived, carrying a large,
} cardboard box. The two glanced at Thagernon, who was using a fork and
} holding a folded napkin in his lap, and then at Lisa. Finally looking
} toward each other, they proceeded the rest of the way into the room.
}
}    "Thag," the doctor began.
}
}    "Please, call me by my full name, Thagernon."
}
}    "Very well," The doctor said, with a look like he had just been
} slapped. "Your vocabulary is incredible, Thagernon."
}
}    "Thank you. I was awake for about ten minutes before Lisa arrived,
} so I read this New York Times you left here."
}
}    Again, the doctor and Zadoc exchanged glances.
}
}    "Um, Thagernon, Zadoc and I would like it if you would consent to
} some tests."
}
}    "What kind of tests, doctor?"
}
}    "Nothing frightening or painful, I assure you. Merely some
} intelligence tests."
}
}    "You mean like ink blots and those two-tone cubes and the
} pattern-matches?"
}
}    "Exactly."
}
}    Several hours later, long after darkness had crept over the outside
} of the windows, the doctor and Zadoc left. Thagernon did his best at
} the tests, and was hoping that eventually they would prove a challenge
} so that he could show how well he was doing to the doctor, but the
} doctor was obviously taking it slow at first. All the tests he was
} given were easy, and Thagernon, sitting alone in the silence of his
} room, recalled the doctor cursing the IQ charts for being inadequate.
} If the charts were inadequate, Thagernon thought, then perhaps he was
} inadequate as well. There must be more that he could learn to show the
} doctor he truly was better.
}
}    Climbing from the bed, trying to make as little noise as possible,
} Thagernon reached into the small night stand and produced the fork he
} had kept from dinner. Bending the tongs slightly, he used it to pick
} the lock on the door to his room, and stepped into the dimly lit
} hallway.
}
}    He had cleaned the temple floors daily for what must have been three
} years now, at least since his last digest appearance, and knew the
} layout fairly well. The doctor's library was off limits, but Thagernon
} knew if he had any hope of gaining further knowledge, it would be
} there.
}
}    The door to the library was heavy, and it took much more effort to
} pick the lock than it had to open the door to his room. However, once
} inside, Thagernon found himself surrounded by mountains of books. There
} were more tomes of knowledge than Thagernon had ever dreamed of. In one
} corner sat piles of atlases, in another sat mounds of mystical
} encyclopedias filled with arcane knowledge. Where to begin?
}
}    Overwhelmed at the amount of information at his fingertips,
} Thagernon found himself mildly disoriented. He sat down on the doctor's
} easy chair and put his hands on the armrests. He tried to think where
} the doctor would begin in his situation, but found that he couldn't
} because he had never known the doctor to be without a fact or idea
} already in his mind. It took a second for Thagernon to realize he had
} been idly playing with a small, black box that was lying on the armrest
} of the chair. Was this the doctor's recorder on which, Thagernon knew,
} were all the notes pertaining to his case? Perhaps. Thagernon picked it
} up. It seemed much smaller than he recalled, but was still lined with
} buttons. Overcome with curiosity, he tapped the one marked "power."
}
}    He was rather startled when, instead of a voice coming from the box,
} a light came from a larger box on the other side of the room. This new
} box, which Thagernon believed was a "television," was pointed just so
} that a person sitting in the chair Thagernon was in would have an ideal
} view. He thumbed the arrow next to "volume" that pointed up, and was
} reward with sounds from the television.
}
}    "Now entering the studio," began a voice, "are today's contestants."
}
}    Well, thought Thagernon, moments into the show, this seems to be
} some sort of contest of wits. I'm sure the doctor would approve of my
} ingesting such mental exercises.
}
}    The overcast sky of that stormy morning kept Thag from understanding
} that time was rapidly spinning past him. He sat before the television,
} entranced. The two characters on the show he was watching were laughing
} and jibing each other good-naturedly.
}
}    "I've never known a woman to eat as many hotdogs at a company picnic
} as Kathy Lee does," said the man. The audience laughed.
}
}    "Oh Rege," the woman said, patting him on the arm. The audience
} laughed again.
}
}    Suddenly, the door opened and the doctor entered. He was unaware, at
} first, that Thag was in the room. Curiosity dictated, however, that he
} enter further to find the source of the sounds, and when he saw the
} television on and Thagernon sitting, enmeshed in the show, he howled.
}
}    "Thagernon! What are you doing?!"
}
}    Thag glanced up from the television at the doctor, who was yelling
} and smelled of fear. The scent made Thag angry and he jumped up from
} the chair, ready to defend himself.
}
}    "Thag not do anything! Thag watch Regis!"
}
}    The doctor howled again and called for Zadoc. When Zadoc arrived,
} Thag spotted the needle in his hands and bolted for the windows. Zadoc
} was quick, but Thag was quicker. However, the needle did strike Thag,
} although the plunger wasn't pushed all the way down.
}
}    Thag climbed onto the ledge by the window. The rain was soaking his
} face, and the wind was driving it against him so that it stung. He
} squinted through the downpour and saw a light further ahead along the
} ledge. He began to inch his way toward the light, beginning to feel
} drowsy from the medication. The doctor's head appeared at the window he
} had left.
}
}    "Thag! Thag! Come back!" the doctor was yelling. Thag paid no
} attention to him, but kept inching toward the light. "Thag! We can fix
} it! You can be smart again! Please!"
}
}    Thag reached the light, coming from the window at the end of the
} ledge. He was dizzy, and his vision blurred as he held on to the
} shutters, but held on he did. He glanced in the window and saw a blurry
} Lisa stepping out of the shower. The door in the room burst open and
} Zadoc entered. Lisa screamed and Zadoc quickly said something to her,
} pointing toward the window. Lisa looked to the window, saw Thag, and
} screamed again. She quickly grabbed a towel and wrapped it around
} herself while Zadoc kept talking. She nodded something in Zadoc's
} direction and slowly made her way to the window, opening it carefully.
} Thag knew it was already too late.
}
}    "Thag! You must come inside," Lisa began, but Thag knew her heart
} wasn't in it. She belonged to the doctor, and he could never have her.
} "Please, Thag. I want you to come inside."
}
}    "No, Lisa," Thag said, placing his rain-soaked hands on her cheeks.
} "Thag not come back. Thag sleepy. Lisa?"
}
}    "Yes Thag?" she asked, looking into his eyes. A bolt of lightning
} split the sky behind him and for a moment she was lit up like an angel.
}
}    "Not rember Thag like this," he said. It was getting hard for him to
} think, the medicine was taking effect quickly, even the small amount
} that had been administered.
}
}    "Rember Thag smart," he gasped. "Rember... Thag-er-non."
}
}    "Oh Thag!" Lisa said, a tear at the corner of her eyes. Thag wanted
} to remember that tear, to hold her, to tell her everything would be all
} right, but he couldn't. His hold on the shutters slipped and for a
} brief moment he was dangling in space, flying like a bird, then he
} dropped away with the rain drops, and out of Lisa's sight, never
} uttering a sound.
}
}    (From the Journal of Doctor Orrie) Friday, the 13th - I'm afraid
} this is, indeed, a day of bad omens. More than two weeks have passed
} since Thag's demise, and the experiment continues to degrade around me.
} The love ghoti I had performed the surgery on all drowned themselves.
} The woodchuck was a total failure, never getting farther than the
} spit-bubble stage. And poor Zadoc; when he awoke from his surgery, his
} frail frame couldn't handle the new intelligence and he exploded. Even
} Piezo, the mouse, is gone. I arrived at the lab yesterday morning and
} found that he had climbed to the top of the filing cabinet and leapt to
} his death. I found a tiny Wall Street Journal and a miniature portfolio
} in his cage. Having glanced at it I'm sure I would have done the same
} thing in his shoes. I'm afraid I have no choice now but to abandon the
} experiment completely.
}
}    The doctor turned off the tape recorder and walked toward the door.
} The floor was sticky now, having not been cleaned since Thag was gone.
} He glanced behind him and his eyes scanned the room. He took in every
} detail, every piece of equipment, every piece of furniture, to fixate
} the image in his mind, before turning off the light and shutting the
} door.
}
}    As he walked down the hallway he knew that his time would come and
} that someone, somewhere, owed him tribute.


1199-04    (bcjfa dist, 3.0 mean)
Selected-By: Dave Hemming <surfbaud@waverider.co.uk>

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

> Oh Most clever yet banal Oracle,
>
> How much wood would a woodchuck sport, if a woodchuck had a woody?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

}   There's supplicants of every sort
}   Who, out of ignorance or sport,
}   To grovel-lacking pleas resort,
}   And thus a lesson must be taught
}       By means of Orrie's Staff of Zot.
}   But, though these reprobates annoy,
}   Their antics are a source of joy
}   Next to those ratbags who deploy
}       The wood-chucking marmot.
}
}   Some don't even think it cheating
}   Steve Wright gags to come repeating,
}   Without humour (even fleeting);
}   They receive the usual greeting
}       In the form of a big Zot.
}   Two grey cells to rub together
}   Have they got? I know not whether;
}   But at least they do not blether
}       'Bout that damned marmot.
}
}   What goes on within the mind
}   Of those who, lacking any kind
}   Of sense, send emails MIME-entwined,
}   Or simply leave their .sig behind?
}       Quick, recharge my Staff of Zot.
}   Yet e'en blank questions are to me
}   The sweetest sights I ever see
}   If, on all sides, naught else there be
}       But massed ranks of marmot.
}
}   I can no longer count the number
}   Of the questions in which lumber-
}   Hurling rodents, dumb and dumber,
}   My poor message-tray encumber;
}       Each deserves more than a Zot.
}   Nothing else is quite as dreary;
}   No-one makes me feel as weary;
}   Orrie's life was cheery ere he
}       Met that damned marmot.
}
}   Then, all at once, an idea struck:
}   Perhaps it was not mere bad luck;
}   Perhaps instead some vile woodchuck
}   These questions in his in-tray stuck,
}       As part of some nefarious plot.
}   Fighting down a nervous shiver,
}   Thus spake Orrie, counsel-giver:
}   "Tirra lirra, I'll deliver
}       Death to that marmot!"
}
}   He grabbed his staff, he left the room,
}   His face an icy mask of doom.
}   He sought it in the evening gloom;
}   Far off, folks heard the sonic boom
}       As he unleashed the fearful Zot.
}   Then, just before the creature died,
}   Its skullbone crack'd from side to side;
}   "The Oracle has done me!" cried
}      The wood-chucking marmot.
}
}   Who is this, with bits of fur
}   Bedecked? A police officer,
}   Say'ng, "Pardon me for asking, Sir,
}   But do you have a licence for
}       That lethal-looking Staff of Zot?
}   If not, you'll have to come with me;
}   A dank, dark cell your home will be;
}   Once in, I'll throw away the key,
}       You slayer of marmot."
}
}   Now, during breaks from drudgery,
}   I log on to the jail's PC.
}   But what is this? It cannot be!
}   Another woodchuck taunting me;
}       And me without my Staff of Zot.
}   And then, the realisation came:
}   That creature had been far too tame.
}   If only I had asked its name!
}       I've killed the wrong marmot.
}
}   Listen closely and I'll tell
}   You what you owe the Oracle
}   (For now you're bound to do my will):
}   My cruel oppressor you must kill,
}       Although you have no Staff of Zot.
}   Scour the plains and search the woods,
}   Prowl the roughest neighbourhoods;
}   Don't return without the goods:
}       The hide of one marmot.


1199-05    (75tk6 dist, 3.2 mean)
Selected-By: MVSOPEN@aol.com

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

> Excuse me, but is this your lump of coal?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} That's the problem with you mortals, never looking ahead at the big
} picture.
}
} To answer your question, no, that's my diamond farm.
}
} You owe the Oracle a cure for myopia.


1199-06    (dkkb3 dist, 2.6 mean)
Selected-By: Mike Nolan <nolan@celery.tssi.com>

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

> Who chopped down the tree in my front yard?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} The same guy who chopped it up after.
}
} You owe the Oracle, er, hey forget it, I can see you're upset - want
} any firewood? I've got plenty to spare!


1199-07    (lmf72 dist, 2.2 mean)
Selected-By: Mike Nolan <nolan@celery.tssi.com>

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

> <knock knock>
>
> "Yes, who is it?"

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} The horror of the situation gripped the Oracle.
}
} "Oh my God!" he breathed. "I'm in a Saturday Night Live rerun."
}
} The skit proceeded. "Candygram!"
}
} "NOOOOOOOOOOO!"
}
} You owe the Oracle a can of landshark repellent.


1199-08    (almb3 dist, 2.6 mean)
Selected-By: "Tim Chew" <twchew@mindspring.com>

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

> When one of the chimpanzees hit the other I just couldn't stand
> it anymore.  So I told my trusted assistant to throw the switch.
> And what did he do?  He switched on the carousel. Aaaargh! It's really
> not easy to be a mad scientist, these days.
>
> You wouldn't have any advice for me, would you?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} The problem with you mad scientists is that you combine the job
} of Stupid Henchman with the role of Lab Assistant  and end up with
} Stupid Assistants.
}
} Other job roles to avoid combining are:
} Head Gardener / Bargain Hunter
} Swedish Taxidermist / Short order Chef
} Cereal Taster / Mosquito Killer


1199-09    (glhb2 dist, 2.4 mean)
Selected-By: Otis Viles <drey@speakeasy.org>

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

> I've got more brains than you can poke a stick at!

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} I'm sure the troops in the mess hall will be delighted by the news.
}
} You owe the Oracle a pound of headcheese.


1199-10    (cnjb2 dist, 2.5 mean)
Selected-By: Otis Viles <drey@speakeasy.org>

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

> O Oracle most grandiloquent,
> It seems that *someone* has their undies in a bit of a twist about the
> Oracle having no questions to ask. So, why doesn't this individual take
> the opportunity to go do something productive instead, like planting
> posies or sponge-bathing the old folks?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Ha ha! This is the queue drainer! And I have nothing to ask!!! HA HA!
}
} oh... wait a minnit... dammit! You tricked me!
}
} You owe me another askme.


© Copyright 1989-2024 The Internet OracleTM a Kinzler.com offering Contact oracle-web@internetoracle.org