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

> Albatross? Where did I get this albatross?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Ah, the old mysterious albatross in the mail scam. It works like this. } } First, you receive an albatross in the mail. You'll notice that the } box has a Nigerian postmark, and no actual return address. } } Then, usually within a week, you'll receive an email. The sender will } say that they sent you an albatross in the mail, but only intended to } send you a pigeon. They'll ask you to send the balance back to them, } with the difference between an albatross and a pigeon according to } valuemybird.com being two pheasants and a hedge sparrow. You, being an } honest and upstanding citizen, as well as being more naive than a } stale bowl of custard, send them the pheasants and hedge sparrow by } return mail. } } Sometime after this, you'll notice that the albatross hasn't moved. If } you follow the same path as many unfortunate people before you, you'll } gingerly investigate the albatross (having previously been too scared } to go within range of that meaty pinkish beak, and look closer. Yes, } it'll be a fake albatross, typically made of a variety of unused items } such as dandelion fluff and skillfully carved asbestos. } } So, you then realise that you have received a valueless (and } potentially toxic) fake bird, and in response you have sent the } scammer two real pheasants and a hedge sparrow. You see how it works? } } You owe The Oracle nothing. In fact I'll give you something from } myself. Just sign into www.paypal_actually_not_and_dodgy_as_hell.com } with your details and you'll find I've sent you a cool $1000 to do } with as you please.

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

> Another dream, but I don't expect an explanation this time. Writing on > the wall. MANY MANY TICKLE ORACLE. But one man's Mede is another man's > Persian. I am wrong, right?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} The mural graffiti } my supplicant sweetie, } Is Yiddish, not Greek } Wrong wall do you seek } } When golden rain falls } You will find in the stalls } of the public urinal } Your verdict and final. } } -ly there it is writ } Midst the grout and the grit } The answer you seek } Either now or next week. } } Now mead, by the bee } Made's of honey, you see? } Its sweetness you strive } To obtain from its hive } } But the sting's in the tale } So henceforth shall you wail } From henceforth till next week } Blessed ONLY the meek. } } You owe the Oracle a cap in hand

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

> What an argument. I mean agreement. You could not do better. My > sediments exactly. > > What's at the bottom?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} In matters vinicultural, you'll find towards the base } Of barrels, bottles, jars et al a thin film: it's the case } That this is a bacterium that common folk called "yeast" } And fermentation then occurs - of that you know, at least? } } The yeast absorbs the sugars and excretes an ethanol } It does the yeast some harm - it dies of pois'nous alcohol } The Volstead Act did never say the yeast should cease production } But at over twenty weight by vol the poor dears cease to function } } They thence descend into the base to die and carbonating } It adds the fizzness to the brew, a day or two, it is exasperating } The yeasts can do more- they're dead, with nothing left to do } But invite some others, lambic strains, to add to the top brew } } Those are the laws, despite your depravity } Of specific and original gravity.

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

> Remember about 1985 or something like that when you received an > anonymous and really stupid question from someone claiming to be > Clembert X. Poochnozzle, or some other silly name that could have been > even worse? And you thought that I was the perpetrator? > > Well, I have an excuse. I didn't to it. I was forced at gnupoint by > evil people who looked sort of like your assistant Zadoc over there, > except they had clean hands. > > Anyway, that's so old and it's all milk under the damn by now. > > Speaking of old things, what's the best way to return to those > thrilling and ancient days of the IBM 7094, the 1403, the 1620, and > the 650? Back when men were antelopes and cowboys were programmers, > slaughtering bugs for fun and profit. Also the Royal McBee LGP-30.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} The Oracle entirely disdains your spurious remarks about longevity. The } Oracle remembers, back in the eighties, when Lisa was a mere gymslip } and now she has blossomed into a handsome and full bodied (if somewhat } menopausal) well let's not get into that, where was I. Excuse me in my } infinite age but sometimes I forget where I put my bifocals. } } Right, let's get to it. On the old 7094 it was impossible to have clean } hands as Zadoc (who is peculiar by his absence whenever these matters } arise) had to punch the keys in what IBM described at page 22 } "Reasonable force" but Z understood that as "Hit it and hope".. in my } oracular duties as the hypervisor n VM/360 I did occasionally send to } terminal 44.123 in EBCDIC, that is translated, "Keep your greasy } maulers off it". This is the basic instruction of any system admin, } please do not touch the machines. } } So the ill-tempered klaviers tended to get fingerprints from people wo } would disobey that instruction, and I would then take further steps to } ensure they had absolutely no chance of ever using a computer ever } again. You ask my Fred Brooks, that was a time when cowboys ate goulash } and women were nonexistent, at least not near my computers, thank you } very much. I did have a few small boys but you can't prove that in } court. } } You owe the Oracle the Octal numbers 0 to 7, and an explanation of APL } in, in APL.

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

> I wrote  poem that had this line: > >    "I will never again, not ever, be the person I was before." > > Then I paid money for a publisher to put it in a book of poetry I > write, well most of it, but some of it I took from other poems like "I > think that I shall never see a billboard lovely as a tree." But allot > of it was partly mine. > > The typesetter got the line wrong, and my poetry book says::: > >      "I will never again, not ever, be the prison I was before." > > Yes, prison, not person. > > What should I do? I feel like writing a poem about dead typesetters. > Or is the new line somewhat more better and poetical? > > Please tell me how to write poems that don't get ruined.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Your publisher's blll thus does l fall } She patently set out her stall } That your allusion to O.'s nashery } Was rather trashery. } } The sum, thus assigned, your allot. } ment of fees hs lady, Shall not } You darest complain } Of her her rhythmic strain } When deducting commission: cannot } } Misprision, you claim but then hence: } You've committed the larger offence } Thus denied by estoppel } To anything properl- } .y spelled, You've no legel de-fence. } } You owe the Oracle six cans of macaronic cheesiness.

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

> WHat can we do in these tomes of postkinzlerization?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Abandoned by Kinzler in a sub-basement of the Mathematics Building at } Indiana University, I have continued to produce far more written } material than was necessary to produce even a single worthwhile volume. } The major difficulty has been the extremely low quality of my } supplicants and their supplications. } } You owe the Oracle a major campaign to seek out, capture and enslave a } new crew of faithful supplicants.

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

> I just learned that sundials and presumably clocks run backwards in the > southern hemisphere. Please explain why without making either of us > seem more stupid than we actually are.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} In matters hemispherical } The shadow is ephemeral } the gnomon points equator } ANd that is what's your stator } } Now southern, you get wins } If it winds thus widdershins } Whereas northern goes right-handed } ANd the time's where shadow's landed } } An Aussie timekeeper } Thus is a creeper } From R to L } that should give you no hell } } In matters solar } You must be bipolar. } } You owe the Oracle a pint of Victoria Bitter.

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

> Que se qui ce passe la bas? Un million de Francais veulent savoir.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} aJe peut compris, la Queston-La } La bas c'est trouble, essayi-moi } En haut tu fait, c'est ton position } C'est-ca l'Oracle exposition } } Tu veut rends au L'Oracle the Paris Metro Line 14, avec les dunlops.

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

> I need to become famous. What should I do? Asking you extra questions > does not seem to help at all.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} 2020 TOP FIVE VIRAL YOUTUBE CLIPS! } } 1) Supplicant getting chased by a neanderthal wielding spiky club. } 2) Supplicant getting used as pinjata by the same neanderthal. } 3) Supplicant falling into a pit of rabid rodents. } 4) Supplicant getting rodent bites cleaned with industrial strength }    moonshine. } 5) Supplicant getting thrown back into pit after failing to pay the }    Oracle.

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

> Dear Oracle, on first-named terms with the muse terpsichoral, and I'm > told you scored in a manner historical, may I please ask: > > I had the old MTV on, and was watching Billy Joel singing "in the > middle of the night". All very upbeat, but at no time does he actually > indicate when "the middle of the night" is. I've got trains to run, and > my timetable starts at 0000 and ends at 2400, but nowhere on it is > marked night or day, so I am a bit bemused as to exactly when "the > middle of" the night should be. Taking a strictly geodesical stance, it > should be a 3am, this is why "nones" (nines, "noon") is at 3pm. i.e. > nine hours after sunrise. But you knew that. My moondial suggests that > the "middle of" the night would be about 2.17am but I havent adjusted > from my local longitude to mean time. > > So, when exactly IS the middle of the night: Cos I want to go walking > in my sleep etc. and have no fear of reprisals when the local bobby > asks me what I am up to, I shall spring the Joel Defence.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Oh dear. This is somewhat of a perplexitude. I am currently visiting } Mars (the planet, not the Roman god) so you'll need to read up (or } down) on planetary alignment to understand the true meaning of Noon on } Mars, which you should not confuse with Death in Venice, by Thomas } Mann, a book that if you have not read, you should not bother. If you } have read it you should go back in history and convince Mann not to } bother writing it. Spare a lot of people unnecessary discomfort. } } Sorry about that suggestion. I should not have mentioned it. Time } travel is difficult for me, and three times harder for you. Forget I } mentioned Thomas Mann. Go and visit my friend Douglas who lives on the } Isle of Man. Visitors think that he runs the place, but he does not. } The Lord of Man is in charge there, but she does not visit often. } } You owe the Oracle a better method to keep his extensive mind from } wandering onto unrelated topics when answering questions. You also } should at least be pleased that this answer does not contain attempts } at poetry. } } Roses are red, violets are blue. You think this will rhyme, but it } won't.