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

> In System V/386 UNIX, what file do you edit to control the default home > directory for users?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} You'd probably be better off asking a consultant about this one, but } what the hell, I'll give it a go. } } Your best bet would be to edit your .cshrc file to include the line } } %message from system!iuvax } %Due to the installation of new software, memory usage will be } %severely curtailed for the next half-hour. We apologize for the } %inconvenience. } } Oh NO! } Duhhhhh.... Me hate it when that happens. Uhh...durrr...what was you } question? Oh yeah! Somethin' 'bout directories. If you got } directories, just swig some Pepto-Bismol. Always works fer me! Ha ha! } } You owes da Oracle } } %message from system!iuvax } %I'm afraid that CPU time will also be severly curtailed. I would } %suggest saving any important projects for later. Sorry! } } Ook-ook! Eek! Drool! Slobber! } } %message from system!iuvax } %Whoops! I take it back, everything's okay! } } Dammit! I WANT MY OWN SYSTEM! } Anyway, about default home directories } } %message from system!iuvax } %System going down in 5 seconds } } SHIT! } Inordertocontroltheusersdefaulthomedirectoryitisnecessarytochange } thelineinthe.cshrcfilethatsays

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

> Why is that everyone at the computer center assumes that just because > you wear glasses and spend your time playing Moria or writing you, O > Wonderful Oracle, that you would be happy to answer their inane > questions about their pascal programming assignments?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Pretty obvious, one would think.  But the Oracle'll spell it out for } you.  They see that you are acquainted with such arcana as e-mail and } trickier computer games (Moria is the Oracle's favorite, too).  They } assume that you get satisfaction from your near-mastery of computers. } They also see that you wear glasses, whereas if you were really } socially-adept you would either have perfect eyesight or wear contacts, } preferably those that change your eye color.  They put all these } together:  ah!  understands computers, feels good when he can influence } things, wears glasses -> will be able and pleased to answer questions in } return for feelings of superiority and crumbs of social interaction. } } If the Oracle didn't believe in Truth, Justice and the American Way, It } would suggest that you tell these people lies, or give vague or } misleading answers.  After a while they might catch on.  But you're Too } Nice and so is the Oracle, and we wouldn't do nasty things like that.

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

> Yo who are you?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} I'm the Oracle, of course. It's obvious you haven't done this before, } so I'll explain how this works. } } Send your question to oracle@iuvax.cs.indiana.edu. Be sure to begin } your letter with lots of flowery praise. Do not use any of the } following openings: } } TYPE OF BOO-BOO          EXAMPLE                PUNISHMENT } ---------------------------------------------------------------------- } None          " "                             Spending eternity }                                               sucking lava through }                                               an iron straw } } Sarcastic     "Oh, Oracle, you whose          Spontaneous }               shit smells like roses..."      disembowelment } } Obscure       "Oracle, you whose ventricle    Coming back as Zsa-Zsa }               does not tintinabulate,         Gabor's underwear }               whose smallest robot I am }               unworthy to catalog..." } } Two months later, a homing pigeon will smash through your living room } window, dance the lambada with your salt shaker, deposit a small } capsule and leave. } } In the capsule will be a small piece of paper with three numbers on } it. Take these numbers to the Middle Eastern gentleman who runs the } Slurpee machine at the 7-11. He will nod knowingly and cold cock you. } } When you wake up in the hospital, you will find more numbers tatooed } on your chest. Your nurse will look at these numbers and gasp, then } rip open her blouse to reveal large, firm breasts with more numbers } tatooed upon them. Put these numbers together and they will spell out } an exact location in Turkey in latitude and longitude. } } Buy a plane ticket to Turkey and hike out to the location. After } digging for several minutes you will encounter a ceramic albatross. } Break it open. Inside you will find a mystic scripture and three } pounds of hashish. You will then be arrested by several police } officers who were hiding behind a tree. } } When you get inside the prison, seek out the man with no teeth } performing perversions upon himself in the corner. Ask him about the } crystal. He will give a large green crystal. Hold it in the air and } recite the mystic scripture. There will be a big stinky explosion, } causing the wardens to believe that your colon detonated and you will } be transported to a small cave. } } Recite the words on the cave wall a million times without stopping. } This may take a few tries, but what the hell, you're young! When you } succeed, a small computer terminal will mysteriously materialize. } Logon as anonymous and read your mail. The Oracle's reply will be } there! Probably something along the lines of } } "Throw chocolate syrup in her face and go watch the Munsters. }  You owe the Oracle a Twinkie" } } Ah, cosmic knowledge! It's worth any price, is it not? } } You owe the Oracle a Twinkie.

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

> Eye fined my-shelf come-pulse-sieve-lee may-king terrier-bull ponce (Eye > mien PUNS).  Help!

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Ewe knead two seize bee ing this weigh bee four the pole lease are rest } ewe. } } Ro lsee ouy sumt genib geainksp ni rmanagsa.

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

> Oh mighty, melliflous, mandibled Oracle, > kindly reply to my query rhetorical... > > Now I know this girl > or I should say this "being" > we met at a party > & now her I'm seeing. > Her sensuous voice > turns me to gelatin, > but see, she's got this > exoskeleton... > & compound eyes... > it's pretty revolting, > especially when > her hull she is moulting. > Now I'm in no position > to ever a lay shun, > but how can I mate > with a horny crustacean? > > Have you had any experience in this department, Oh Oracle?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Here is a story } That starts not in a deli } Concerning one "Corey" } And this lobster named "Shelly." } } It actually started } In this small boat so crude, } When Corey departed } From land to find food. } } His net caught this lobster, } And when Corey did clinch it, } It fought like a mobster, } And the lobster did pinch "it." } } (The "it" that I mention } Has many a reference. } You can bet your life's pension } To it women take preference!) } } This pinch, by a long shot, } Was so well delivered, } It got Corey real hot } And then Corey quivered. } } "You are my shelly one, } My little pup." } But she reaked like a smelly one, } So Corey washed her up. } } He was in love, } As anyone could see, } With this creature of } The deep blue sea. } } But life was unkind } Corey confided, } 'Cause he couldn't find } A good place to slide "it." } } So he was depressed } As his boat would further sail, } So much impressed } by this crusty female. } } It was just impossible } And, yes, much too lewd } To make that line crossable } Between man and seafood. } } Although such a "could-not" } Appealed to him much, } Society would not } Deem it as such. } } So Corey did call } Yours truly (the Oracle), } And did on his knees fall } In a posture implorical. } } He said, "What's the deal? } Why can't I be happy? } Why must I so feel } So miserably crappy?" } } And thus from my mouth, } "Don't let it get to you. } If your heart goes down south, } It'll prob'bly unglue you. } } "I can solve your plight; } Just send my your Shelly } One one first-class flight } To the town of New Dehli." } } Shelly said to me, } "Oh can you please tell us } How Corey can do me } In a manner so zealous?" } } So I did act a wizard. } (The first time I did fail; } She turned into a lizard } With a big scaly tail.) } } I did finally fix her } To be one atrractive } And when I did "mix her," } She was extremely reactive! } } Corey's now living } With Shelly in Boise } And they are now making } A racket so noisy. } } So send me your shelled one, } And I'll work 'til I'm red } To make her a well one } To do wonders in bed. } } And what do I ask } For this service of mine? } Simply a flask } Of aphrodesiac wine.

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

> It is my best friend's wedding on Saturday, so please reply quickly. > She didn't ask me to be a bridesmaid:  what form should my revenge take? > > (Before you get clever - I am a woman.)

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} What?? Hmm... mail to Dear Abby must be coming through my netlink now... } irritating... Oh well, I must answer... } } You could always seduce the husband. } } You owe the Oracle a forwarding address that will get E-mail to Dear } Abby

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

> Oh Oracle most wise, please tell me: > > After all the paint strippers and the alcohol-based removers, after all > the soap and all the face towels, after chiseling away at all that caked > on, stuck on stuff, what does Tammy Bakker *really* look like?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} You forgot sandblasting. } } This is a rather odd question--like asking "what's _Friday_the_13th_ } Part_5_ REALLY like, without all the gore?"  Can you imagine a } dramatic reading of the _Friday_the_13th_Part_Five_ screenplay?  It } would be something unnatural, something no one was meant to hear--a } foul, slovenly performance which would drag its audience to the very } brink of the rancid of abyss of mediocrity, forcing them to stare } wide-eyed into its void, their hapless sphincters reduced to jelly, } their very bone marrow curdling with revulsion.  It's the same with } Tammy Faye. } } However, it is possible to vaguely envision a completely stripped-down } Tammy.  Just picture a combination of Woody Allen sans glasses, a Gila } monster with really bad psoriasis, Phyllis Diller with a hangover at 6 } AM, and the bat-like creatures described in H.P. Lovecraft's _The } Festival_.  But don't try too hard.  It's not a good idea.

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

> Oh great wise & witty Oracle, possesor of speedy hardware and > bug-free software: > >       Richard Simmons told radio talk-show host Howard Stern that > he wanted to have a baby within the next year.  He said that he > had a list of women who he was going to ask to be the mother. > >       Who's on the list?  I'm hoping a letter writing campaign can > be waged to talk them out of it...the last thing we need are more > Richard Simmons' wandering around pushing goofy diet plans!

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Well, I'm glad you asked this.  Those of you who are fortunate enough to } be living modern lives may have seen this on TV, when Dick read the list } out loud on one of his exercise specials.  Here is a transcript of it: } } --Trancsript beings-- } } Ready? And... } One: Jane Fonda } ...Four, One, Two, 'cause just imagine how healthy our child would be! } Four, One, Two, Three and } Two: Ann Margaret... } Four, One, Two, Three, 'cause she's just so special! } Three and One, Two, Three (pant) } Three: Debbie Gibson... } One, Two, I know she's young, but I think we'd make divine music } together!  Two, Three, and, } Four: Dolly Parton... } ...Four, One, Two, Three, She's a special firend of mine, } Three, Four, One, Two, Three or } Five: Traci Lords... } Four, have you ever seen her in "Ladies in Lace?"... no, ha ha, just } kidding, Three Four, One, Two, Three, Four, One, I know you can do it!, } One, Two, Three, Four, One, Two, Three, and } Six! Betty Crocker... } One, Two, Three, so I could get her to cut all those fattening foods out } of her cookbooks!, Three, Four, One, Two, and last, } Seven: Fergie } ...Three, Four, imagine me with a child as an heir to the throne! } Alright! Wow, wasn't that fun! } } --End of transcript-- } } Unofortunately Dick doesn't seem to understand quite who Fergie is, oh } well. } } You owe the Oracle a copy of the movie mentioned above.  Beta please.

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

> Where can I buy tuna that results in the killing of as many dolphins > as possible?  I hate the filthy brutes and want to see them extinct. > I'd go and shoot some if only I had the money to > > Uh, Oracle, excuse the guy who wrote the start of this message.  I > let him type that so that you could see just how sick he really is. > He suffered a deep psychic trauma while watching reruns of "Flipper" > and ever since has hated all dolphins, porpoises and whales.  Can you > suggest a cure?  I mean the poor maniac is living on tuna and writing > hate mail to conservationist groups, and he's got _Moby-Dick_ almost > memorized and keeps trying to steal scrimshaw from museums, and he > sleeps with a harpoon next to him in bed in case any whales show up > during the night.  Please help!

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Well, you have come to the right place. } You see, my mother in law is a tuna.  Or at least she looks like one. } I'll be glad to help you, if only you wait until he's taken her } out. } There are many ways to stop your comrade from eating all this tuna, } I'll give you my top ten: } } 10)  Spike the mayonaise with rat poison. } 9)  Make him play Go Fish two hundred times consecutively. } 8)  Force him to watch Bambi.  (At least he'll be eating meat instead } of fish) } 7)  Toss him in an Ocean.  (for good measure if nothing else) } 6)  Have him talk to a freudian psychologist who can convince him that } his mother's a dolphin. } 5)  Take him to Sea World } 4)  Force him to watch all the Jaws movies. } 3)  #4, but consecutively. } 2)  Get him a hobby.  (May I suggest Lisa) } 1)  Have him meet my mother in law. } } You owe the Oracle 6 cans of Chicken of the Sea. } (In mineral water, of course.  The vegetable oil is too fattening)

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

> Are you really Elvis?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Of course not.  Don't be cruel.