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

> Dear Oracle, who is all-knowing and wise, what is the purpose of > groveling? > > Your submissive servant awaits your reply.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} To give you valuable practice for the quickest way to achieve success } in life-- brownnosing those in positions of authority. } } You owe the Oracle a climb up the corporate ladder.

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

> O Mighty Oracle, who never has problems with time like us mere mortals > > Why is it that the day that I don't have any classes or meetings > scheduled is the day that I get the least amount of work accomplished?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} You have reached the great Usenet Oracle.  All lines are currently } busy. Please hold on and your question will be answered in turn. } } <musical interlude> } } All lines are still busy.  Be assured you will receive the same } personalized service the Oracle gives all supplicants.  To speed } processing of your question, be sure to have your groveling ready } when your call is answered. } } <musical interlude> } } The Usenet Oracle announces its new service:  Question Express!  For } those questions mortals most often ask the Oracle.  If your question } is regarding love, money, health or sports, and you have a touch-tone } phone, call the Question Express! line for an instant answer. } } <musical interlude> } } All lines are still busy.  Be assured you will receive the same } personalized service the Oracle gives all supplicants.  To speed } processing of your question, be sure to have your groveling ready } when your call is answered. } } <musical interlude>

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

> How do I get to Carnegie Hall?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} * Take the 15th street bus to the corner of Binglepot Lane. } * Turn left. } * Go three and a half blocks to number 715. } * Push the buzzer for Apartment 3 six times, pause, five times. } * When the left-hand door opens, jump inside and dodge the poisoned }   arrows which will shoot down from your left. } * Crawl on your belly for eighty-seven feet, ignoring the muskets }   firing above you back. } * Slither down the oily black hole } * Dive head-first into the mucilaginous brown mass that burbles at the }   bottom. } * Before your clothes dissolve completely, feel around for the cavity }   under the mass, and pull the warmest of the three levers. } * As the watersluice opens up beneath you and you go swirling down }   into the abyss, push off from the giant crab-demon's shell so that }   it cannot grasp you and vivisect you in mid-air.  But be sure that }   the waters wash you clean of the brown slime. } * When the beautiful fairy lady flies by in her chariot drawn by }   swans, smile most charmingly at her and return her embraces with joy }   and ardor. } * When she has tired of you, be sure that she flings you off the right }   side of the chariot rather than the left, so that you can reach the }   farthest branches of the last tree that grows on the wall of the }   abyss. } * Climb into the tree, avoiding the nests of the giant eagles, for }   their children will surely snap you down like a worm. } * Ascend the cliff by the steps that a thousand years labor by }   hopeless slaves have carved in the cliff face.  Every thousandth }   step is marked with a skull; drop a flower on each one, or the }   former inhabitant of the skull will follow you and in time devour }   your soul. } * When the steps come to a wooden door marked with seven turtles, }   knock boldly thrice. } * When the voices ask you for the password, pay no attention to their }   hideously malformed pronunciation; for their heads are the heads of }   insects, and they cannot pronounce English words well.  And the }   password is, "The dissolving of my flesh in the bath of fuming }   acid." } * As you pass through the door, hurl a bottle of combustible spirits }   to your left, and a honeyed cake to your right, and run quickly.  If }   you feel a tentacle upon your shoulder, then make your peace quickly }   with your gods, for you are lost and doomed. } * When you trip on a scrap of rope, roll to your right into a cavity, }   and rotate widdershins the valve which closes the portal. } * Climb up the long chains to the windlass. } * Go across the catwalk marked "Skorber's Death", and descend the }   rusted staircase at its end. } * Pass though the door marked "The Realm of Death" in reversed letters }   barely visible through the curiously patterned glass. } * Turn right. } * The ticket office of Carnegie Hall will be on your left, about three }   doors down. } } Perhaps not the fastest way to get there, perhaps not the safest. But } it'll be unforgettable. } } You owe the Oracle uptown bus-fare and a ticket to Ashkenazy's next } performance.

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

> O great and nifty virtual diety, > blah blah blah blah blah > blah blah blah > blah blah blah > > Grovel, grovel, grovel. > > Please answer this: > When I put coffee in my thermos, it keeps it hot. > When I put soda in my thermos, it keeps it cold. > How does it know? > Lately, it hasn't been keeping the coffee hot.  Why?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Thermoses are part of a mammoth conspi<fnord>racy, instigated by } the <fnord>Illuminati<fnord>. They have <fnord>a telepathi<fnord>c } link with a gi<fnord>gantic computer database of all liquids, and } thei<fnord>r desired state. The rest is simp<fnord>le: Using their } psychokinetic powers, the ther<fnord>moses either speed up or slow } down the vibrating of the mo<fnord>lecules of the liquid, thus either } heating or cooling it. } } The fact that you<fnord>r thermose has recent<fnord>ly stopped working } is an indica<fnord>tion that the Illumi<fnord>nati have decided that } you are no<fnord> <fnord>longer necessary to their plans. Beware!

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

> Oh allmighty Oracle of the totality of all that the sacred > Leviam00se implies, please for to tell me: > > What poet is the greatest of all time, and why? > > You are my last hope to avoid the Hell of indecision!

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Last hope?! LAST hope, you say?! What, no longer do beings come to me } seeking the wisdom of the unponderables...knowledge for knowledge's } sake and all that...nooo!  Now they try every other method available to } them, and only seek the Oracle's advice when everyone else has failed! } Last hope indeed!  It's like they're avoiding me or something! } } (Lisa enters, sees the Oracle's mood, and tries to beat a hasty } retreat) } } Lisa! Look here.  Look at this latest... I, the greatest of the great, } better than even P.T. Barnum AND the Ringling Bros. combined, with or } without the rest of those clowns, I have been relegated to a }       quote-last-hope-un-quote. } These mortals have no respect anymore-- and whats this Leviam00se bit? } Like it's "cute" or something because there are zeroes like eyes where } the o's should be.  THAT'S what groveling has sunk to nowadays? } Its just disgusting! Its terrible!  I should ZOT this dimwit into the } middle of the next millenia ...Leviam00se my PANCRE-AS! } } (Lisa thinks quickly, to save this poor mortal's bacon...) } } (soothingly sultry voice) Orry, honey, {stroke} don't let it get to } ya... {caress}... sure, this mortal is lacking a bit in the groveling } graces... {rubs neck}...but at least it was a try...{cuddle}...look, } you're all tense over this little mortal nothing...{sidelong } glance}...why don't you just put down that silly question, let me relax } you, work off that deity sized temper ...{suggestive smile}...and you } can deal with it later when you're in a much better state of being? } } Oracle: Well, it's more than a mortal deserves, but allright. }       (thinks: Yep... the temper tantrum... works like a charm, }       everytime!) } } Lisa: Thats better. (Thinks: Who in the realms does he THINK he's }       foolin?) } } a short censored time later.... } } well, a couple of short censored times later.... } } allright, a really long censored time later.... } } much later, in fact: }       Oh, I'm in a much better mood, yes indeed.  Lessee...  the } greatest poet of all time?  Hmmmmm...  thats actually a toughie... } better take a sec to review the entire poetic works of } mankind............. } }               .....hmm...not quite as stimulating as I had hoped. }  Although, that Shakespeare fella was a trifle entertaining. } cummings, too... } interesting stuff that.   Matsuo Basho I found to be very insightful... } oh, I could go on like this for ages, but I must make a decision, and } that decision is this: }       The greatest poet of all time was, and still is, Anon. } Anon has written both poems of quality, and gutter trash, in every } known style of verse, every genre, every age.  He was prolific, } visionary, sometimes subtle, other times ribald.  Most everyone has } heard of his work, and, I must confess, that one about the Man from } Nantucket always brings a smile to my face.  You are hereby saved from } the Hell of indecision. So be it. } } You owe the Oracle a dissertation on the collected works of Anon, and a } copy of this "Leviam00se" whatsis thingamajig.

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

> Oh oracle, who thinks more than a bunch of llamas, help me out on > this one. > > What does the mail adress you got really mean? > I figured out the oracle bit, but I don't know the > rest. Please help a poor mortal.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Well, '@' means "at," of course. } } IUVAX is a form of birth control similar to the IUD.  It keeps me from } spreading subprocesses all over the world. } } CS stands for Carly Simon.  See preceding message. } } INDIANA was put there by Presidential decree.  Danny was throwing a } fit, so they did it to shut him up. } } EDU stands for Mr. Ed University.  I'm the voice of Mr. Ed. } } You owe the Oracle your virginity.

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

> Oh Wise Oracle, > > How does my quirk work?  Could it irk Captain Kirk?  Could it earn me > a perk from the Jerk?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} If your quirk is to work, you must lurk with a dirk. For a lark try } the park after dark. In a week what you seek ought to peak, so don't } freak. If you shirk then your quirk will not work. } } Any quirk just might irk Captain Kirk. Should that schmuck press his } luck, don't just duck, pass the buck. } } No, your quirk will not work on the Jerk for a perk. He's not meek: } if you squeak, news will leak and you'll reek up the creek, so to } speak. } } You owe the Oracle some of whatever you smoked before writing your } question, so I can understand my answer.

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

> perfect oracle, > who gives a shit about elvis?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Well, as a matter of fact, a piece of preseved fecal material believed } to have come from the King himself was recently auctioned off at } Southerby's to an agent acting on behalf of an anonymous collector for } $1.5 million. If you can find someone willing to give you a similar } piece, you should take them up on the offer. } } You owe the Oracle a chunk of...  Hmmm...  On second thought, this one } is on the house.

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

> Oh Mighty Oracle who knows all events past, present and future, > and who has predicted all the world's major disasters, pray > tell me: > >     Will Dan Quayle be our president in '96 ?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Ok, I will permit you a glimpse through the Oraculary Window 'o Time to } see what will transpire in four years or so. } } [Setting: the Quayle mansion, following the Republican victory party. } The Bush/Quayle '96 ticket has triumphed over the Oracle's favorite } candidate, Randomocrat William Brown.  The Bushes are staying over at } the Quayles' for the evening.] } } BUSH: This mansion hath a pleasant seat.  The air }       Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself }       Unto our gentle senses.  See, see, our honored hostess! }       The love that follows us sometime is our trouble, }       Which still we thank as love.  Herein I teach you }       How you shall bid God 'ield us for your pains }       And thank us for your trouble. } } MARYLIN QUAYLE:                               All our service }       In every point twice done, and then done double, }       Were poor and single business to contend }       Against those honors deep and broad wherewith }       Your Majesty loads our house.  For those of old, }       And the late dignities heaped up to them, }       We rest your hermits. } } BUSH:                         Where's the Vice President? }       We coursed him at the heels and had a purpose }       To be his purveyor; but he drives well, }       And his great love, weighty as his foot, hath holp him }       To his home before us.  Fair and noble hostess, }       We are your guest tonight. } } MQ:                                   Your servants ever }       Have theirs, themselves, and what is theirs, in compt, }       To make their audit at your Highness' pleasure, }       Still to return your own. } } BUSH:                                 Give me your hand; }       Conduct me to mine host.  We love him highly }       And shall continue our graces towards him. }       By your leave, hostess. }                                       EXEUNT. } } [Setting: Danny Quayle is alone in his room.] } } DQ:   If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well }       It were done quickly.  If the assassination }       Could trammel up the consequence, and catch, }       With his surcease, success, that but this blow }       Might be the be-all and the end-all here, }       But here, upon this bank abd shoal of time, }       We'ld jump the life to come.  But in these cases }       We still have judgement here, that we but teach }       Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return }       To plague the inventor... } } ... well!  Pretty heady stuff, eh?  You get the point.  Bush will die } of a bizzare stomach virus, and Quayle will be president for a few } months until pressure from almost every sector in the country forces } him to retire to the Quayle Compound in Hyannis Port, MA. } } You owe the Oracle an autograph copy of MACBETH.

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

> Oh Master of the Millenial Koan-a-thon, whose very butt hairs are > smooth and silky and which most of us would gladly shave our eyebrows > to floss with, please help me out with this one. > > How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck had thumbs and a > MacCulloch 21" chainsaw with self-oiling chain?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Funny you should ask.  Allow me to share with you some recent } correspondence received by an Oracular colleague on this very } subject... } } -The Woodchuck Oracle has pondered your question deeply.  Your question } -was: } - } -}Oh Woodchuck Oracle, who can hop from branch to branch without ever } -}losing Oracular balance, who can eat more nuts in a single day than } -}the average woodchuck puts away for a whole year, please answer my } -}question: } -} } -}Down at Jeb's Woodchuck Lodge and Nut Grill, a couple of the boys have } -}been talking about this new trend of "woodchuck" jokes that the humans } -}have been passing around.  We find them all in mighty bad taste, and a } -}few of us have been thinking about what we ought to be doing in } -}response to these insults. } -} } -}Well, the boys got a little crazy last night.  They crossed the high- } -}way on the other side of the forest and raided the local hardware } -}store.  They've now got a few 21" chainsaws (they said they saw some } -}movie about a Texas guy who used a chainsaw to get revenge) and } -}they've figured out how to gas 'em up and mow stuff down with 'em. } -}They're going to attack the university (where they say all these } -}woodchuck jokes been coming from) and shut up some of those joke- } -}tellers for good. } -} } -}Well, I'm a-thinking on whether I should join them or not.  I mean, I } -}relish the thought of carving open the pencil-necks of these techno- } -}geeks who've been getting all these cheap laughs at our expense, but I } -}kind of wonder if there isn't some less violent way of getting them to } -}cut out the nasty jokes without so much blood. } -} } -}Whaddya think, Oracle, should I go with them?  Is there any other way } -}to get the job done? } } Alas, the reply to this question was not revealed to me by my respected } colleague.  But considering the evil grin on his visage when he showed } me this letter, I think we can both guess what his answer was. } } So your answer is, no wood at all.  But that doesn't mean those } chainsaws aren't going to be chopping anything up...  Unless they catch } a couple of pencils in your shirt pocket, but that doesn't count, does } it? } } The Oracle waives payment this time -- just let me know when you plan } again on going outside (heh heh).