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

> Oh mighty Oracle, whose handwriting is far more compact than that of > Fermat, who can solve NP-complete problems in dominomial time (less > time than it takes mortals to play a game of dominoes), and who can put > the integral of e^(-x^2) into closed form simply by threatening it with > a large eraser, please answer my humble question: > > Where should I go to get my math Ph.D.?  Chicago is better > academically, but at UCLA I might actually have a real life outside of > math.  UCLA is better for choice of specialization, but Chicago is > better for choice of jobs later.  At Chicago I would have to put up > with 5 hellish winters; at UCLA I would have to put up with 5 summers > of smog. > > Or should I just give up and make a living as a street mime?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Don't forget, in Chicago, you'd have to put up with all the media hype } surrounding the Bears, and in LA the hype about the Dodgers. In Chicago } you get to see better blues bands, but in LA there are better night } clubs. } } On the other hand, the Sorbonne in Paris offers postgraduate level } courses in street mime. The weather beats Chicago, the pollution is } less than LA, and you can spend endless hours amusing the masses } outside charming cafes. Go for it. After all, as the great Marcel } Marceau would say, "." } } You owe the Oracle a copy of your thesis, wherever it comes from.

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

>       "Tyger, Tyger >       burning bright, >       In the forests >       of the night, >       What immortal hand or eye >       Could frame thy fearful symmetry?" >                                               -- William Blake > > Oracle, what's a tyger?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} A fymynyst tiger.

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

> Oh great grovel to god of the usenet, > > Tell me how many song titles exist that contain the word love > anywhere in the title, except for the first word of the title ?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Oh mere brushoff to supplicant, } } The number of such songs is zero. } } Proof: It is well known (to all of us omnicient ones, anyway) that, } throughout the infinitity of time and space, there are an infinite } number of songs.  However, not all of these songs have titles that } contain the word "love", except as the first word.  Now, any finite } number divided by infinity is as near to zero as makes no odds. } Therefore, any song you may hear with a title containing the word } "love", except as the first word, is merely the product of a deranged } imagination. } } You owe the Oracle a copy of the single "I'm Not In Love," autographed } by Douglas Adams.

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

> Oh most wonderful Oracle, who is soooooo great, I just can't describe > it, recently I called the 1-800 phone number on my Slurpee cup.  I > suggested to the man who answered that there should be a chocolate > slurpee.  He said this was a good idea and wrote it down, and I felt > very good.  But later, I began to think of more and more ideas for > Slurpees.  So, I called the man back and told him all my ideas, and he > sounded a little strange, but said that they might be good ideas, for > someone else, but he didn't think that 7-11 would be interested in > potatoe and bacon and sour cream Slurpee.  As time went by, I began to > be obsesed with creating new slurpees.  I called back many times, and > usually had to disguise my voice with an accent or a handkerchief over > the mouthpiece.  Finally I realized the ultimate Slurpee:  The Beer > and/or Hard Liquor Slurpee.  But I have a problem, you see, the > misguided people at the 7-11 place know my voice and hang up now any > time I try to call.  How can I give them this great idea and do my part > for the economy? >                            Your faithful Servant, >                                 Hilary Bassett > > P.S.  The phone number for the slurpee place is 1-800-232-0711, in case > you are interested.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Well my friend, I can understand your concern.  However, please } remember that a Japanese company bought 7-11 a little while back.  It's } extremely obvious that such unfriendly behaivior on 7-11's part, } ignoring such helpful ideas (indeed, ignoring the consumer's wants) is } proof that American companies will triumph in the end.  Any help that } you render the Japanese hurts us, so it is your patriotic duty to stop } calling them and give them ideas.  It's a damn communist plot.  If only } Barry Goldwater had been elected President!  God Bless America! } } 'sides, where else on this planet could you find a company that would } make (my mouth waters at the though) Long Island Ice Tea slurpees? } } You owe The All-American Oracle a salute to the American Flag with your } right hand and a Michelob Slurpee in your left.  (urp)

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

> Tell me O wise and totally sublime Oracle. > > Why is it that University internal mail systems are so slow?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Most University internal mail systems run under TIMP (Totally Inept } Mail Protocol, RFC 19692.4) which requires mail to be manually } processed through a scanner, fed through an optical character } recognition program, bounced by satellite around the earth three times } widdershins, routed to the central delivery computer where it is } processed by an IBM AT with half a megabyte of memory and no hard } drive, printed out on an HP DeskJet and delivered by dog sled. } } The Oracle owes you a home-study Berlitz course, "Better Groveling in } 30 Days," available on the Home Shopping Network.  (Not sold in any } stores!)

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

> (The soothing harmonies of Hayden's 'String Quartet #62 in C major' >  waft on the warm evening breeze from some unseen source). > > O Mighty Oracle, who Truley appreciates the Classics, please tell me: > who would win if, say, Beethoven and Brahms went up against Mozart > and Tchaikovsky in tag-team wrestling?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Well let's see ... } }       (The delicate strains of Sweet Child O' Mine waft over the PA.) }       Here we are at the first World Wrestling and Classical Music }       Federation bout for the year. In one corner we have 'The Stinging }       Bees' in Beethoven and Brahms. In the other corner the new team }       of 'Wolfman' Mozart and 'Swan Lake' Tchaikovsky, who really needs }       to find a better name. We can expect a close contest here, and no }       matter who wins, the real winner here will be classical }       wrestling. As they start, it's Beethoven and Mozart in the ring. }       Beethoven charges, but Mozart sees him coming and ducks, grabs }       his leg and flips him onto the canvas. Beethoven is shaken, but }       gets up. The Wolfman moves quickly, and now has Beethoven in a }       half-Nelson. Beethoven struggles free, and raises his arms. He }       brings down his arms and ... da da da duuum. Beethoven's 5th! }       Mozart is reeling at the blow. Beethoven tags, so now it's }       Brahms. Brahms lifts his arms, and the music starts. A cry comes }       out from the crowd: }       'What's that racket?' }       'Racket? That's no racket, that's Brahms! Brahms' third racket!' }       Mozart is in trouble now. Brahms moves in, but Mozart tags. }       Tchaikovsky is in.  He lifts his arms and ... it's the Nutcracker }       Suite! Brahms clutches his groin in agony, tears welling from his }       eyes.  A low blow from Tchaikovsky there .. no, wait! He's going }       to play something else! Is it the 1812 overture? No! It's ...  oh }       my goodness ... it's Peter and the Wolf! This is too much! Brahms }       can't take it! He falls to the ground, with a nauseous look on }       his face, and passes out.  Tchaikovsky moves in for the hold ... }       one, two, three ... and Mozart and Tchaikovsky have defeated the }       highly fancied Stinging Bees! Referee Axl Rose lifts the }       triumphant winners' hands into the air. But this is a sad day for }       wrestling indeed, when such underhanded tactics need to be used }       to win a wrestling match. Even now Brahms is being carried off on }       a stretcher ... } } Well there's your answer: Mozart and Tchaikovsky. Reminds me of the } time the London Philharmonic Orchestra played Handel ... and lost. } } You owe the Oracle a spell checker.

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

> O Brilliant Oracle, > I've gone crazy with ballads!  Send me a blue carrot that won't > lacerate my polygamist fleece!

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Thought you could fool me, did you?  Thought your clever anagram would } mess with the Oracular mind, huh?  I know your message actually says: } }  O Brilliant Oracle, }  I came!  See?  I'm bone lazy with ballast!  Vend me a parrot that }  won't accelerate or fly!   Lucy G. Degs } } Glad to know that your sex life is looking better, Lucy.  But remember, } the flight of the parrot just adds to the excitement. } } You owe the Oracle a videotape of your last ornithological encounter.

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

> O Illuminating Oracle, the efficiency of whose brilliance puts > a compact fluorescent bulb to shame, please tell me: > > How many deities does it take to change a light bulb?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Lightbulb?  How quaint! } } You owe the Oracle a complete personal account of the sexual habits of } the sperm whale, and a comparative study to the sexual habits of the } killer whale.  Have fun.

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

> Oh Extraordinarily Splendid Oracle, > > I know I need a big prestegious buzzword in my title to enhance my > reputation.  What should it be?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Choosing the proper buzzword is one of the most important decisions in } a young man's life.  Many enterprising young businessmen have had their } lives totally ruined by selecting a loser like "Anarcho-Objectivist", } "Technically Illiterate", or "Loser". } } You have to ask yourself questions like, "What, if anything, can I do } well?"  This question will take you far in finding your own, personal } buzzword.  You may also want to investigate the pattern in the } buzzwords of the higher-ups in your field.  One of them may even take } you under his (or her, hey) wing and guide you in the proper selection. } Many of my higher Priests and Priestesses have gotten where they are } partly by becoming chummy with me. } } However, I have investigated your situation thoroughly, and I can } definitely say that the best buzzword for your name is "Hung". } } You owe the Oracle a Supreme Court nomination.

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

> The world is a game in which physicists toy > with the theorems and postulates which they employ > to give our lives order, in a deterministic way > to predict what will be from what is today > > Newton said, "Ha! This is simple to show, > that an object left alone, will never slow. > And an old apple core, when you throw it away, > will fall to the ground, F=ma. > When you run into a wall, believe me, 'tis true, > it wont just turn cheek, it runs into you." > > Just this past century along came a guy, > who figured out the equation to send things awry. > Schrodinger said, "Probability's the device!" > Einstein responded, "God doesn't play dice." > > Where are we now, what are we to believe, > is the world a magician with something up its sleeve? > Are we all just randomly occurring events? > Or should life be seen in a deterministic sense? > Where what happens is most likely, and does this intend > to say the chance of your living is one minus your end?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} The chance of your living's one minus your end, } Unless the great Oracle you tend to offend } In which case the chances are just about nil } You owe me a grovel, and a case of Advil.