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

> I grovel by taking a giant leap sideways in the course > of History.  Suddenly it's 1945, and I haven't been born > yet.  My father's just getting home from WWII, and has > yet to meet my mother, who thought she was waiting for > someone else.  Unfortunately, the sideways leap has left > Hitler victorious, and my mother is Jewish, and about to > be wiped out.  My father, OOPS, he's NOT my father, anyway, > that guy who would have been my father comes to her > rescue, but gets blown up by the guards.  Damn!  I'm not > able to grovel any further because I don't exist.  Damn! > > What's the best way to avoid interacting with the Darwin > Awards on a personal level?  Stay in bed all day, maybe?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} According to your grovel, you don't exist anymore.  Thus why } are you worrying about becoming a Darwin Award Winner? } However, I shall assume that your grovel was more allegorical } than actual and answer your last question about avoiding } becoming a Darwin Awardee. } } Most Darwin awardees typically involve a combination of guns, } alcohol, trucks, and/or explosive materials.  They also often } use (or should have used) the old joke about a Redneck's last } words (Q: "What are a the most common 'Last Words' spoken by } a Redneck?"  A: "Hey Earl, Watch This!"). } } If you wish to not become a Darwin Awardee, follow these } three simple rules: } } A: Don't be a jerk.  It really is a simple rule, but you'd be }    amazed at how many Darwin Awardees forget it. } } B: Don't assume the laws of physics will not apply to you. }    Newton's laws about falling bodies applies to everybody, }    whether you wish them to or not.  In addition, the good old }    kinetic energy equation '1/2 * m * v^2' also applies.  The }    'v^2' is the kicker -- as velocity goes 'up' (a common }    problem with Darwin Awardees), the kinetic energy goes }    'way up'.  Flesh and bone does not do a good job of }    absorbing kinetic energy when the inevitable happens. } } C: Don't fall into the 'more must be better' trap.  Igniting }    one propane tank in the desert is 'funny and only somewhat }    dangerous'; igniting ten propane tanks at once is 'stupid'. } } If you follow these rules you can still 'have a life' and not } worry about becoming famous in an infamous way. } } You owe the Oracle a JATO rocket engine -- I've got to check } that one out.

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

> All the blood drained from my face, and > I stood there, as pail as a bucket.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} "Sasha, don't!" I cried.  "I'll return the toys to the } children!"  But it was too late.  She had already set } the machine into motion. } } Overhead, the gears and pulleys of the gigantic } contraption wheezed as they moved for the first time } in millenia. } } She began laughing quietly as the blades of the } machine began swishing through the air.  I knew it had } detected me, and tried to run - but whither there was } no.  Is this the end, I thought, of the anti-Santy } Claus? } } I cried out.  I puffed on my pipe.  I shook like a } bowl full of terrified jelly.  The sharp instruments } whizzed nearer, and began to de-beard me. } } "No!  Thousands of years of growth...please, turn it } off!  I'd rather die than be clean-shaven!" } } I do not remember the initial trimming, but as I felt } the first swipe of lather on my stubble-only face, I } lost consciousness entirely. } } I awoke in midtown Manhattan, with only sideburns to } my name and a candy-cane in my short pocket.  Back to } square one.  No beard, no ability to pass for the man } in Red.  Check in with me in 4020, I thought, and went } to look for employment at one of the city's many duane } reade drugstores. } } You owe the Oracle a sandcastle.

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

> Tell me about plutonic love.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Kind of like uranic love, but with more radiation.

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

> Hey, I'm sending this from a Yahoo! account... > > Hmmm... Strange, I have an overwhelming urge to submit > an obscene question for consideration.  But I will > fight it... I will, I must... > > Anu... > > NO! I refuse to type anything obscene.  Oracle, can > you help me out here?  How can I fight this malady?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Ha ha ha ha!  I will PUKE on you!  *I* am the Oracle now! } Zot! Zot! Zot! Zot! Zot! Zot!  Your grandmother PUKED } on me, too!  Ha ha ha ha!  Zot! } } All you computer nerds and geeks may as well give up. } This is free speech, you can't make me stop, not even } if you are a NetKKKop.  If you are allowed to put things } in the queue, I'm allowed to drain it.  Or you drain it, } I fill it up, with MY questions, which today will all } be about PUKE, and are funnier than the poindexter ones } you all submit about string theory and partheno-whatevers. } } Nuff said, tuff luck, boo hoo, game over.  Zot!  And } Zot! again.  PUKE on you, puker!  Ha ha ha ha! } } Zot! } } __________________________________ } Do you Boohoo!? } } There.  That's the last of that batch.  I think there's } time to fire up the 'bot and do one more batch, before } I have to get out to catch the schoolbus.  Just wait a } fe- Mom, is that you?  Oh, I forgot to tell you, the } big kids broke my inhaler yesterday and I need anoth- } *rumble* hey, YOU'RE not Mom, who are you? Get outta } my- *crack* ow! hey! *ZOT* owwwwww!- } } *rumble* *ahem* Sorry about that, Supplicant.  I had } been meaning to track down this little twerp for quite } a few weeks now, but never quite made the time.  I see } now that I should have taken steps sooner; he has left } quite a mess in his wake. } } He owes the Oracle a cleanup.  I'm thinking hands/knees } and virtual toothbrush, until every byte of every message } he sent is cleaned up on the screens of his unlucky } recipients.

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

> O Oracle who can make anyone hear him, > > How long an antenna would Kevin need so that I could hear the radio > he's broadcasting in my house?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Dear Kevin's friend, } } The string has to connect ALL the way between BOTH cans. } } Hope this helps! } } Orrie

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

>                  Fact is Stranger than Fiction > >       Man, the craziest thing happened to me yesterday.  I had to work > late, and then pick something up at the Mall for my Mother's Birthday. > I was rushing to get home so I could catch my favorite show, Fear > Factor.  I was walking quickly and as I turned a corner in the Mall I > bumped in to some guy coming the other way around the corner.  I almost > dropped the my Mother's Birthday gift, but managed to hold on to it. > I apologized to the guy and pressed on, but before I could take two > steps he started yelling at me... > > Guy: "Hey buddy, watch where the hell you're going!  What's the matter > with you?  You stupid or something?" > > Me: "Oh, sorry." > > Guy: "That it?  You're sorry?  Well... that doesn't cut it!  Do you > think its okay to go around bumping in to everybody, breaking all their > stuff?  Look what you've done!  You made me drop my ice cream cone. > How would you like it if I broke your stuff?" > >       With that he grabbed my Mother's gift and smashed it on the > floor. > > Guy: "How did you like that?  You didn't, did you?" > > Me: "Now, that wasn't necessary.  It was an accident, and I'm sorry, > but I don't feel I'm any more at fault than you were.  Besides, my > gift was expensive, and your ice cream cone was only worth a dollar." > > Guy: "Not your fault?  Look mister, it was ALL your fault.  You got > some kind of death wish or something?" > >       About this time I realized that this guy was quite a bit bigger > than I was, and he was getting angrier and angrier by the second. > > Me: "I still feel I wasn't any more at fault than you, but how about > if I buy you a new ice cream cone anyway?" > >       I fumbled through my wallet, but only had a twenty dollar bill. > I pulled it out to ask if he had any change, but he knocked it out > of my hands and it fluttered to the floor.  Clearly he didn't care > about the money. > > Guy: "I don't want your money!  I want revenge!  I'll take it out > in blood and broken bones!  It's about time you learned a lesson, > and I'm just the guy to teach it to you!" > >       I could see he was getting very angry now; his nostrils were > flaring, veins were bulging on his temples, sweat was running down > his forehead, he was breathing quickly, and he was taking a fighters > stance. > > Me: "Calm down, it's not that big a deal." > > Guy: "Look Buster!  You're worthless piece of crap!  People like you > ought to be tortured and killed; severely tortured for a VERY long > time, then shot and left for the buzzards.  You don't deserve to live; > you shouldn't even have been born!  Why didn't your mother do the > world a favor and kill you before you could come in to the world?" > >       About this time I was thinking that I hate cops sticking their > nose in my private business, but I'd really like to see one now. > > Me: "Uhmmm" > >       I was about to respond, but decided it would probably be best > if I didn't say anything. > > Guy: "You are the scum of the earth!  The lowest form of life on > the planet!  Lower than low!" > >       I was getting kind of scared now; this guy was really loosing > it.  His arms were starting to flail around, and he was making punching > gestures with his fists. > > Guy: "I'll kill you for this!  Rip you apart, s_l_o_w_l_y, piece by > piece, so it hurts like nothing you've ever felt before!  I'll tear > flesh from bone, pull your guts out and strangle you with them! > I'll beat you to a pulp and drink your blood!" > >       Somebody must have called, because I could see a cop was > running up to us with his night-stick drawn.  Boy did I feel better > seeing that. > > Guy: "When I'm through with you, they won't even recognize you as > human; you will just be a pile of pulverized meat and broken splintered > bones sitting in a puddle of blood!" > > Policeman: "John, what's the matter?  Did this man do something?" > >      The guy's voice suddenly went from raging to calm. > > Guy: "This idiot deliberately smashed in to me and threw my ice cream > cone on the floor.  Now he refuses to pay!" > > Me: "No, I offered to..." > >       Before I could finish the cop whacked me with his night-stick, > tackled me to the hard Mall floor, twisted my arms behind my back till > it hurt like hell, and cuffed me.  "Damn! These guys are friends. > Of course the cop is going to take his friend's side." I thought > to myself. > > Guy: "I tried to work it out with him, but he threatened me with > bodily harm.  You can bet I'm going to press charges.  I don't care > how much it costs me, I'm going to get the best lawyer money can buy > and have this low life put away where he belongs for a long, long, > LONG time!" > >       I started to say something, but the cop whacked me with the > night-stick again.  Wow, I didn't know it could hurt that much! > > Policeman: "Shut the hell up, you are in enough trouble already." > >       [Time lapses.] > >       So, now I'm sitting here in a jail cell with a bunch of smelly > drunks wondering how all this could have happened.  I've never been in > any kind of trouble before.  There were lots of witnesses at the Mall, > but no one brave enough to come forward.  One of the witnesses must > have even made off with the twenty bucks that fell to the floor.  Man, > what a lousy day!  I'm out that twenty bucks, the expensive Birthday > gift for my Mom, I missed my show, my car was towed and I have to > pay that plus storage fees, I have to hire a lawyer, and pay bail. > >       So, Mr. Oracle, let me ask you - How could I have avoided this, > and what was that guy's problem anyway?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Look, just come clean and tell your mother you forgot about Mother's } Day and didn't buy her a thing. It's not like she isn't used to it } by now. } } You owe the Oracle a calendar.

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

> Oranges and Lemons say the bells of St Clements! > > What do the bells of your temple say, Oh wonderful and spectacular > Oracle?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} "Kinzler's top banana," say the bells of Indiana } "Decent jokes do we seek," say TIO's trusted Priests } "Few will meet that contingence," says the Voice of Experience } Mostly "Zot!"s and ">"s, from Incarnations thick of skull } "Why am I not digested!!!" say the Newbs most dejected } "Priests must be heavy boozers," say the Sorest of Losers } "Not again," must say those who are reading this rhyme, } "Obscure little ditties are far from benign; } "I could search the internet, but who has the time?" } } You owe the Oracle an extension on her thesis paper.

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

> O Oracle most supremely cunning, who could outmaneuver Alexander, > outfox Caesar, outsail Nelson, outwit Clausewitz... I am in need of > your infinite wisdom: > > How do you keep the barbarian hordes from overrunning the temple? > I know your Staff of Zot is a weapon powerful beyond the human > imagination, but still: you've got to aim, fire, etc., and after > a while that's got to get boring; and your minions (Zadoc and the > others) don't seem bright enough to handle things on their own. So I'm > guessing that you've got other strategies at work to keep things > nice and quiet so that Lisa and you can enjoy your time together. > What tactical advice can you pass along to this struggling tyrant?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} O, supplicant most martial and strategic, the oracle has little need to } worry about barbarian invaders. The usual discussion between prospective } rampagers usually goes something like this: } } "Let's attack that temple." } "That one over there, which is defended only by a single priest?" } "Yes." } "That one, which is the only unlooted building for forty leagues in any }  direction, with the unarmed *smiling* priest defending it?" } "Yes." } "The priest who is unconcerned that we outnumber him fifty to one, is }  totally relaxed and is holding up a sign saying 'temple of the oracle- }  completely harmless' whilst chuckling slightly under his breath?" } "Oh." } "Sod that. Let's do something a bit less dangerous, like insulting the }  thunder gods from the top of a hill whilst wearing wet armour." } } This will probably not work for an aspiring general such as yourself so } here are a few more general tactical tips. } } Incoming fire has the right of way. } If your attack is going well, it may be an ambush. } If you have an impregnable defensive line, the enemy will go round the } side. } supply lines are boring, but essential. } Charging directly at enemy lines is brave, but really stupid. } Don't invade Russia. It's big, cold and has a habit of surprising } invaders.

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

> Hawwright!  This time I'll dispense with the faulty Acme > grovelling equipment, and get right down to the basics of > the art.  These 10,000 cave bats will pick me up and fly > me over the parapets of your abode. > > FLOOP FLOOP FLOOP FLOOP FLOOP FLOOP FLOOP FLOOP FLOOP FLOOP FLOOP FLOOP > FLOOP FLOOP FLOOP FLOOP FLOOP FLOOP FLOOP FLOOP FLOOP FLOOP FLOOP FLOOP > FLOOP FLOOP FLOOP > > As you can see, I'm waving a banner that says ORRIE IS > TOTALLY SPLENDID EVEN IF IT IS MONDAY. > > Then they'll drop me into the driver's seat of your new > BMW controvertable. > >    THUDSQUISHHHH > > Oops, I got guano all over the leather seats.  Sorry, I'll > clean it up later. > > So, I'll just shift into first gear, > >    GRNNNGCGCGHHGHGDDCH-ping > > And then I'll let up on the clutch and vroom the engine. > >    VROOM -URRRK-VROOM VROOM VROOOOM KER-SPLATSCHH! > > Blub-blub could you please rescue me from the bottom of > your moat?  And I guess this means I don't have to worry > about the guano, right?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Despite myself, I'm rather impressed. Groveling before the oracle by } crawling around in my moat whilst covered in bat guano is impressively } subservient, and the manner in which you did it takes guts. } Surprisingly enough, you're also spared a zotting for totalling the } convertable, as this gives me a chance to get even with that dratted } insurance company. I hadn't even touched the thing, so let them write } that one off as an "act of god". Even their twisted imaginations } haven't yet excluded "destruction of vehicle by ariel bombardment with } guano and subsequent immersion in water". In fact I'm feeling in such a } good mood today I'll give you more than one answer. } 1. Put those bats back. They're a protected species and removing them } from their natural habitat could cause damage to another endangered } animal (the Wumpus) } 2. Use the clutch before shifting gears. You'll wear out the gearbox in } no time doing that sort of thing. } 3. It's Wednesday. confound that blasted queue. } 4. No. I'm not going too rescue you from the moat. I'm not in THAT much } of a good mood and you should be able to make it out before the } crocodiles...... Hello? Supplicant? } Oh. } Well, I guess he won't have to worry about the guano. } } Your estate owes the oracle a question prioritiser.

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

> Most gifted Oracle, wiser than 700 poignant cats, > > We had those vikings by the HORNS!  What HAPPENED?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} The Fat lady sang.