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

> Oh great wise oracle, > > I have just been stabbed through the heart by Sauron, wielding a 3'2" > camel-hilted shortsword.  How long do I have to live?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} 3'2"?  3'2"?  That doesn't sound right.  Hold on a minute and let me } check this out... } }     rlogin barad-dur }     Last login: Wed July 17 08:50:54 from oraclehost }     Sun UNIX 1.2 Release 1.1 (SAURON01) #3: Sun Nov 20 12:57:39 PST }     1981 You have mail. } }     %mailx }        1 sysop@barad-dur   Thu Jul 18 12:10:33  12/435  System coming }        dowm }     > }     The ssssystem will be coming down on Friday July 19th for }     maintenanccccce and an upgrade to 300Kb of main memory.  Yes my }     preciousss.  The ssssystem will be down from 8:00am to 5:00pm that }     day, preciousss, and might be down longer if thingsssss go badly. } }     Pleasssssssse plan accordingly. } }     Golum -- aka: sssssssssysssssssop@barad-dur }     >d }     >q }     %cd /etc }     %grep sauron passwd }     sauron:oiP7Whq12hQl:0:1:Sauron (Mr. Big Sword):/usr/sauron:/bin/csh }     %exit } } Well, darn.  He's changed his gecos field.  It used to say just how } long his short sword is.  Uh... let's see.  We could try looking in the } Oracle's personal database of "Everything You Could Ever Want to } Know"... } }     %oracledb }     Welcome to the Oracle's personal data base!  Version 4.67.21.8.1.1 }     Enter '?' for help. }     db> open personalities }     The database "personalities" is now open. }     db> query name=Sauron }     Searching.......................................... }     1 match found... data follows: }     Sauron.  Bad dude living in Barad-Dur.  Has a major problem with }     his ego. Carries a big sword and likes to use it.  Has a thing for }     rings. entry ends }     db>quit }     database "personalities" still open... really quit? (n) y }     % } } Hmmmm..... this is really frustrating.  Well, we'll do it the } old-fashioned way and look it up in the } _833_Middle_Earth_Almanac_and_Book_of Facts_. Let's see... Sauron... } } <flip> <flip> <flip> Lusitania <flip> <flip> Mud Wrestling <*snicker*> } <flip> <flip> Saliva <flip> <flip> <flip> <flip> Sauron!  Here we go. } Let's see.... } } "Sauron is the head of Mordor... blah blah blah... bad temper... }  blah blah blah... Has a collection of beautiful swords." } } Ah-ha! } } "Sauron favors the longsword and bastard sword for most combat, however }  he does own one special short sword that he keeps for use on }  particularly nasty individuals." } } Well, you certainly seem to qualify. } } "This short sword is 2'3" long and has a camel engraved in the hilt." } } Well now, finally!  So you must have transposed the digits when you } typed in your question.  Probably explained by the blood all over the } keyboard which does make it hard to see what you're doing. } } Now with a 2'3" short sword with a camel-hilt and an extra-wide tang, } that puts the blade thickness at the maximum point of penetration at } almost a centimeter.  That means, of course, that the size of the hole } in your heart would allow blood loss at a rate of three gallons per } minute.  Now considering you've just been in mortal combat, your heart } rate... oh dear, this doesn't look good.  If I'm right, and I am, then } you're-- } } Uh... Hello?  You still there?  Uh-oh. } } You'd better have put the Oracle in your will _before_ you died!

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

> O Infinitely Wise and Groovy Oracle, Whose very parser routine I am > unfit to read, even in the form of a hex dump, I must ask You this > question. > > We all know what little girls are made of.  What are big girls made of?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} There are a number of answers to your question, Supplicant, and you } can be sure I'll milk them as long as I can: } }       Big girls are made of resentment and bitterness and a deep- } seated hatred for men, because their last boyfriend was real scum. }       Or, they're made of carbon-based organic chemicals and water. }       Or, they're made of a sexual union between a man and a woman } that results in an XX chromosome pair. }       Or, they're made of a lot of little girls, all mashed together. }       Or, they're made of really bad Oracle answers.  I don't } quite know how that works, but it sure explains why there are so } many big girls... } } You owe the Oracle a big girl.

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

> Oh most wise and all-knowing oracle, what is the idea of a perfect > evening for a male oracle?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Let's look at a copy of my daily itinerary.  I remember that last } Saturday was a good day. } } 9:00 a.m.: Alarm clock starts to ring. } 9:05: Blast alarm clock with a 1 Terawatt lightning bolt. } 10:00: Wake up.  Do the morning "motivational seminar" with Lisa. } 11:30: Take a bath. } (You would not believe the decor in my bathroom.  My bathtub could } easily hold a medium size lake.) } 12:00 p.m.: Eat brunch.  Belch. } 1:00: Examine the list of today's questions. } 1:30: Blast insolent questioners with lightning bolts. } 2:00: Play nethack. } 3:00: Answer the top ten questions. } 4:00: Feed the remaining questions into autooracle (tm) - my automatic } question answering program. } 4:30: Take a nap after a long day at work. } 5:30: Do the afternoon "motivational seminar" with Lisa. } 7:00: Shower. } 7:30: Eat dinner.  Belch. } 8:30: Attend the Meeting of the Gods. } (We discussed the decline in the number of licensed nymphs last } Saturday.) } 9:00: Continue playing the World Politics Game with Zeus. } (We use real people in our games.  Anything less would be trivial.) } 11:00: Critique the wines in Apollo's wine cellar. } (Apollo has terrible taste in wine.  He always defers to my judgement.) } 12:00 a.m.: Take an anti-hangover pill. } 12:10: Do the midnight "motivational seminar" with Lisa. } 2:00: Sleep. } } So you see, my life is usually not very exciting.  I work too hard too } have any fun. } } You owe the Oracle a fully licensed nymph.

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

> Oracle, oh Oracle, >  wherefore art thou Oracle?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} What light through yonder window breaks } has revealed the answer to your question: } } Being omniscient as well as nearly omnipotent, the } Oracle - through the miracles of modern technology - } is also nearing a state of omnipresence.  This ever } watchful state was originally scheduled to be completed } in 1984, but George Steinbrenner and Lee Iaccocca got } involved and, well, things got a little sidetracked. } It's a good thing Orwell is dead, although he spent the } entire year spinning in his grave since he got none of } the royalties from the movie.  Anyway, now that the } apparatus is nearly complete, Oracle-speak is soon to } become the standard.  The arch-angel Trebek has already } begun societal indoctrination, teaching the populace } to instinctually speak in questions.  Soon society will } be freed from the burdens of indecision and doubt.  The } Oracle will be everywhere and all persons will simply } shout their questions into the air for an immediate } all-knowing reply of sage advice.  Gone will be that } den of iniquity and corruption: Directory Assistance! } Information Booths will be smashed with bulldozers!  The } current government will be exiled for "disinformation } crimes against the state"!  Textbooks will be burned! } Libraries will be shut! "Information retrieval" will } become passe!  Hail! Hail! Oracle-speak! } } And remember, it all began in Indiana.

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

> What is the best, a PC compatible or a Macintosh ?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} A very good question. Let's find out shall we ? ... } } run SEXUAL_INTERFACES.PERSONAL_COMPUTERS } seduce(PC_compatible) } } output = Resturant, wine, movie (Godfather III), taxi, dancing, taxi, }          home. upstairs, coffee, more wine, Billy Joel on CD, couch, }          kissing, frienzied kissing, slow groping, fast groping, }          tearing off of clothes, waterbed <CENSORED>, cigerette, taxi. } } TOTAL COST = $211.45 TOTAL TIME = 4.6 hours. } } seduce(Macintosh) } } output = Alley, haggle, payment, motel, room, <CENSORED>, payment. } } TOTAL COST = $45 TOTAL TIME = 1.2 hours. } } There you go then. For your average man on the run, with a limited } budget, the Macintosh is MUCH better. } } You owe the Oracle an intro to the hot little number that calculates } the weather. Talk about Input Compatability !!

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

> How?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} With great finesse and style...things that you obviously seem to lack. } } You owe the Oracle...... } (If you can be obtuse, so can I. Nyah!)

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

>       I have a request of the Oracle, >       Whose brains underneath his hair follicles, >       Are renown for their zest, >       Ne'er fail in the test, >       And are priceless down to the last molecule. > >       I've been struck by the curse of a witch, >       I'm compelled by incredible itch, >       To say not a word, >       But by limerick be heard, >       To say all, this being quite a hitch. > >       I must search for the key to the spell, >       Deal the wicked witch her death knell, >       So please hear my plea, >       And help set me free, >       Or else, I must bade life farewell. > >       Oracle, dear to my heart, >       With this knowledge I pray thee part, >       Cure me from this ill, >       Help me the witch kill, >       And help those who from her spells smart. > >       And thus I must end this request, >       Sent at my soul's own behest, >       For truely I know, >       How far you will go, >       Not to fail when it comes to the test.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} The Oracle has heard your request, } And does not like being put to the test, } But with patience to guide, } He will spare your hide, } And give you the answer that's best. } } Now that witch has cursed you, that's true. } That was quite an evil thing of her to do, } It was mean and cruel, } To treat you like the fool, } And not altogether unfreindly, too. } } Now to fool that witches' evil plot, } Will take some work, quite a lot. } But if you hang tough, } It won't seem quite so rough, } And that witch will wither and rot. } } Now on with the heart of the plan, } Make sure you some sulphur at hand. } Wave your arms all about, } With a scream and a shout, } And blow the sulphur 'round with a fan. } } Now this is not the end, but don't worry, } Although you've taken away the glory, } Of some stupid witch, } Who was a cold-hearted bitch, } Because you owe the Oracle a story!

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

> O, most exalted Oracle, even as your B.O. is the sweetest perfume, and > those annoying little balls of lint in your belly-button are the > softest of pillows, > > Why did they take a simple thing like a cabinet and call it a > "cupboard", when it is neither mug nor timber? And why does a rug get > referred to as "carpet", when it obviously isn't a domesticated animal > or automobile?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Flattery will get you nowhere. Just ask the oracle your question } and shut up. And no more asking the Oracle two questions at } once, either. The Oracle is in a good mood today, and will answer } both, but next time you ask two questions he may answer neither. } Or worse, the Oracle may provide two answers, but not tell you } which applies to which question. } } As any Rhode Island native will tell you, a "cabinet" is a drink } made with ice cream, milk, and flavored syrup, called a "frappe" } in the rest of New England and a "milkshake" outside the civilized } world. No-one calls a cabinet a "cupboard" anywhere that the Oracle is } familiar with, and the Oracle has travelled far and narrow. (The Oracle } will travel far and wide when his travel budget allows, or he } accumulates some more frequent flier miles). } } If you realize that the poor carpet on your floor is a devolved species } from a genus that includes such proud members as the Arabian Flying } Carpet (a sort of automobile) and the title character in the great } movie The Creeping Terror (a sort of domesticated animal), then the } word will make perfect sense.

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

> Oh, mighty Oracle, who really is quite impressive: > > I've never pressed the F7 key.  Should I?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Foolish Mortals, you Never Learn.....don't you remember what happened } when you pushed the *Others*? } } F1: Hulk Hogan wins WWF title } F2: Dan Quayle gets Nomination for VP } F3: Saddam's Airforce gets Botulism from Bad Camel Milk, can't fly in }     war } F4: ABC *almost* cancels Twin Peaks } F5: George Bush get irregular heartbeat, pissing off everybody watching }     Star Trek, TNG. } F6: Sen. Kennedy's Ex-Wife's Sobriety Tester Tampered } } And *You* thought it was all a big coincidence. You *don't* } want to find out what happens  when you press F7 key. Really. } } You owe the Oracle a keyboard with 12 function keys, so he can destroy } the world.

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

> Oh Most Salubrious Oracle, who's scintillating contributions to > informational dissemination shall never wane, who's thesaurus always > falls open to the correct page and who will almost certainly answer my > feeble supplications with an Oraculatities winning entry..  Answer me > this. > > Why does my cat have such a limited vocabulary?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} A man sits on a chair in a barren stark room.  A spot light focuses on } him. His tie hangs loose around his neck, his collar unbuttoned.  His } hair is disheveled and he is sweating profusely.  His expression is } both harried and haunted, a cigarette dangling from his lips, numberous } butts on the floor around him.  He takes a drag on the cigarette, then } speaks, hoarsly, quickly and nervously. } } "Do you have any idea?  The pressure?"  another drag on the cigarette } "The pressure to produce an Oracularities winning answer.  Do YOU?? } And with a question like yours?" } } The man gets up, and paces nervously, the spot light expanding and } shifting to encompass him continually.  The spent cigarette falls from } his lips.  He immediately lights another. } } The man sits again, his face seeming to draw closer.  "How could you do } this to me??  How could you?  What did I ever do to you to deserve } THIS?  I'm ruined!  Finished!  KAPUT!  Do you realize what will happen } when word of this gets out?" } } He turns away and chain smokes several cigarettes in quick succession, } then turns back around.  His expression is now frantic.  He speaks } "Damn you!  I hate you for this!  I HATE you!  Well, here's your } answer!  I DON'T KNOW! i don't know...  go ask the guru on the } mountain.  he knows."  The man's voice trails off in a pathetic, } dejected tone, and he turns away again, sobbing with his face burried } in his hands. } } Shortly, a beautiful woman walks in, puts an arm around the man's } shoulders, and attempts to comfort him.  "There, there, Orrie," she } soothes.  "It'll all be ok soon."  She spares a moment to glance at } you, herexpression conveying her feelings more accurately than her } words ever could.  You slink away, ashamed. } } You owe the Oracle a two valium, a week in a club med of his choice, } and a seminar on groveling for the uneducated supplicants.