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

> O Oracle most wise, who knows all the details of the computer industry, > why is it that the serial numbers on computer cards are printed so that > you have to open the computer to read them, once you have them > installed?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} This is fairly simple, actually. It's a kind of reverse-insurance } fraud. Put simply, you can't register the board for insurance purposes } without knowing the serial number, you can't get at the serial number } without opening the case, and opening the case invalidates your } guarantee. So, unless you get the serial number beforehand, you cannot } get the board guaranteed, and so if anything goes wrong they can } happily charge you full price to fix it. } } You owe the Oracle a 100 terabyte hard disk that fits in half a slot.

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

> Knock Knock. > > Who's there? > > Banana. > > Knock Knock. > > Who's there? > > Banana. > > Knock Knock. > > Who's there? > > Orange. > > Orange who? > > Orange ya glad I didn't say banana?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} No, the Oracle would rather you had said "banana" again. } } I can't imagine anybody over the age of five finding that amusing. } } Ideally, you should have exploded into innumerable fragments rather } than saying anything.

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

> Praiseworthy and honorable ancient Oracle, >       Every woman who has ever fallen in love with me has severe > psychological problems.  Am I doomed never to know the love of a woman > who is sane?  I'm not talking about pleasant eccentricities or harmless > delusions, but rather severe depression, bipolar disorder, and > schizophrenia.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} You have forgotten that little deal you made with my poker buddy, } the one in the red suit, haven't you?  You know, you give him your } soul and you get to "drive women crazy"?  Well, now that it's not what } you expected, don't come whining to me.  Remember: you should read the } fine print before you sign anything. } } You owe the oracle a deck of cards and a bag of assorted nuts.

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

> O Great Cheez Wiz, the All-knowing and All-powerful Oracle, this > pitiful little retch humbly asks of you... > > Who the hell is on the other side of this...?{rlinn@fscvax.fsc.vax.edu}

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Hang on, I'll have a look.... } } {ude.xav.csf.xavcsf@nnilr} } } Nothing on this side except an electron gun, but in the background I } can see an incredibly ugly face looking at me. } } You owe the Oracle a question which doesn't make him wretch.

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

> O most magnificent Omnipotence. > > What is the origin of the phrase "Bugger off you old fart"?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} As it turns out, the expression "bugger off" has nothing to do with } insects.  It originally comes from the Sanskrit "Bhu-karof," which was } the name of the first family of declared Republicans found in } Indo-European regions.  It has since evolved into "bugarov," which is } Byelorussian tripe, and of course "Bulgarian." Its entry into the } English language comes from Sanskrit to the German "bu:gerhofen," which } means to fling snot at someone (essentially, "booger-off"), and through } the French "bougaire oeuf," which means to (figuratively or literally) } pellet someone with old eggs with runny yolks. } } The word "you," as everyone knows, orginated in the Chinese as "Yu^", } which means "thick-headed listener," i.e. whomever is dumb enough to be } sitting there, listening to whatever silly things I am saying.  The } negative connotations of "yu^" have also made their way into the } English exclamation "Yow!" } } "Old fart" appears to be a very English phrase, whose etymology before } Shakespeare's time is downright uncertain.  It's first known use was in } one of Shakespeare's lesser-known works, _Romeo and Jules_, which may } have had a lack of success due to the morals of Elizabethan England. } In any case, the passage reads } }                               and perhaps this sodden, dreary fellow }       This olde farte 'pon whom Dame Fortune was ne'er wont to smile }       This sad sack, this foul-mouthed, wretched, heaving lump of lard, }       Nay, even he doth not deserve to be locked in a room with }       Rabid, balding Feminists. }                               (_Romeo and Jules_, I.iv, lines -6 to -2) } } The word "farte" may have come from the German word "farven," or "to } expel fumes as if from really old socks," which has found its way into } such modern contrivances as "fahrvergnugen," the Yiddish "farblondjet," } and the group called "The Far Corporation," which did a remake of } _Stairway to Heaven_ which truly stank. } } "Old," of course, is such an old word that nobody has a clue as to it } origins. } } You owe the Oracle an OED, PDQ.

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

> O most^^^''''[[PP[sorry, ther^[[P''"electrical storm^[[P''''sfsdkjfu > my questi5'''"""''""''with a dil U&(&*plenty of fun&*"::"L":shiL:":L > #@EDFCB woodchuck soup(*&*U  N >Y >*U(OK"OKsodomy"P(UU(IP "&^Fbugger

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} No need to apologize, gentle reader, The Oracle is prepared for ANY } such interruptions...let's see here... } } [BEEP] } } GodOS v234.3241.1 (oracle.personal) <<>> Beta Version } } login: root } password: } } No mail for root. } } >>> Good morning, Oracle. } } oracle> Hello.  I am in need of the most recent version of } VAXtrapolator. Please load and run it. } } >>> Certainly.  One moment please... } } Searching...found "VAXtrapolator". } Loading VAXtrapolator. } }    - VAXtrapolator v6.23.1 - Universal Extrapolation Utility } } Please input text to be translated.  Use command "~r" to read a file. } } .~r question.43075 } Reading file question.43075...done. } } Translating...one moment please... } }  - Trying "Hebrew"...failed. }  - Trying "Middle English"...failed. }  - Trying "Telecommunication Interference from Electrical Storm"...Ok. } } Working...done. } Translation follows: } } O most (sorry, there's an electrical storm here) wise and patient } Oracle, my question is this:  I live with a dilettante (granted, she's } plenty of fun), but her interest lies only in roadkill cuisine: namely } woodchuck soup.  My interest in her has waned, and the only logical } recourse is sodomy with a can of Raid (tm) Debugger.  Don't you agree? } } >>> Done. } VAXtrapolator - endrun. } } oracle> ^D } Root logged out.  Have a nice millenium! } } There, now we may proceed with a bit of coherency... } }   First off, dilettante's on ANY subject are an abomination to } humankind. It has been my experience that they are most often } authorities on *no* topics of worth, and your friend's choice of } specialties is ample proof that, once again, the Oracle is correct. }   However, one should NEVER resort to sodomy on any level...unless the } recipient is either willing or Republican. }   So, it is my judgement (and thusly yours, mortal) that you should } immediately bring your friend to the attention of Greenpeace or some } other fanatic, right-wing environmental organization.  They are quite } renowned for dealing with such people in ways not rivaled since the } Roman Catholics got a tad carried away a few years back.  Rest assured, } my friend, that she will endure pain and suffering equal to, if not } greater than, anything you and the Raid people could hope to invoke. } } You owe the Oracle the recipe for Woodchuck Soup.  Hey, even the } omniscient have cravings...

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

> You're scum! You're nothing but scum! You've always been scum! > > You wouldn't know wisdom if it came up behind you and bit you > on the ass!

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Scene:  A dim, dank, foul-smelling computer lab.  A frenzied, } sweaty, disillusioned supplicant (who also smells rather foul) } crouches over a terminal, muttering under his breath, "scum, scum..." } He finishes typing, hits a key with a burst of finality, and breaks } into manaiacal laughter. } } Suddenly, a loud *POOF* is heard.  A large Marine leading a donkey } on a tether appears out of nowhere behind the supplicant.  The } supplicant winces, turns around, and gives a start of surprise } and fear. } } The Marine barks, "Are you responsible for this?"  He gestures } toward the rear end of the donkey, where there is a set of } teeth marks, still bleeding, on the poor animal's flesh.  The } supplicant stares, and stammers wordlessly.  The Marine then } says sternly, "And is your name Henry F. Wizdum?"  The supplicant } cringes, and the Marine shouts, "Answer me!  Is your name Henry F. } Wizdum?"  The poor supplicant shivers uncontrollably, and manages } to squeak out a high-pitched, "Y-yes.." } } The Marine smiles evilly, and takes a radio from his belt.  "Sarge," } he says, "we got him.  I knew from the moment I laid eyes on him } that he was the one who bit your ass."  He clicks the radio off, } and smirks at the supplicant.  "You're going straight to the boss," } he chuckles.  "Next time, if there IS a next time, remember that } 'scum' rearranged spells USMC." } } *POOF*

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

> Hail great Oracle! > Your claws are sharper than a serpent's tooth! > Your tail is bushier than Amenhotep's wig! > Your whiskers are wider than the Nile! > Your purr is deeper than an earthquake! > > Oracle, I am puzzled. > When my humans are not actively employed in doing my bidding, > they tend to sit around staring at a noisy box. > > What do they think they see?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Ahhhh, finally!  A supplicant I can RESPECT!! } } To understand the mystery of the "noisy box," you must first understand } the limitations of humans.   They lack the independence and } self-servingness of your species, as well as your superior hunting } instincts, cunning, and agility.  The box attempts to replace some of } these deficiencies, satisfying these and other basic needs, much as you } have the humans (and, more importantly, their furniture) to satisfy } yours. } } What the people are staring at is not the box itself, but illusions } projected onto the front of it.  These pictures relieve them of the } personal independence which they find so intolerable -- force-feeding } them somebody else's concept of entertainment, informing them of things } happening to other people, and telling them which products to buy for } you.  This nurturing and assuming of responsibility is very similar to } a mother's care, which humans seem to have need for even into adulthood } and which is why the box is often referred to as "the boob tube." } } In addition, the tube prevents them from an overwhelming inferiority } complex related to your own aptitude...   Because humans as a rule are } not agile and intelligent, the illusions provide them with an indirect } ego boost by showing them the minority of people who ARE quick, agile, } cunning, or otherwise somehow capable.   The most popular diversion of } this nature involves two groups of physically superior humans pitted in } combat over an oblong leather trophy, and is usually an occasion for } social gatherings around the tube at which they eat and drink "beer" (a } form of peoplenip) and become even LESS physically able.  Other than } that, the most common tube-picture is a shorter set of repetitive and } over-used ideas and gimmicks which are supposed to induce the watcher } into "laughing."    Why humans need to do such a thing is beyond me. } *I* certainly would never have any involvement with it. } } That is all the information I can provide for you at this time.  Please } feel free to drop by again in a few lives.   In the meantime, } remember-- don't go for that ball of string.  It'll never do anything } back to you, and the humans just think it's "cute."  Scratch THEM up } instead!!   They love it. } } You owe the Oracle an invitation to the Jellicle Ball.

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

> Um, Mr. Oracle, I've got a problem.  You know how there are supposed > to be daemons in Unix machines but they're not supposed to get out? > Well, it looks like one of mine did get out.  I think it's cron, > because he keeps looking at his watch and muttering, "Ahhhhm, five > minutes 'til feeding time," and looking at me with this hungry look in > his eye, only it's not always five minutes.  He just said it's four > now.  So, like, what should I do?  He looks hungry enough to eat a ... > user?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Get yourself an apple, a worm, a razorblade and some superglue. } Quickly cut the worm in three pieces with the razorblade. Use } the superglue to put it back according to this diagram. } }       OOOOOOO   OOOOOOOO   OOOOOOO     (Divided worm) }             !      !         ! }             !      +---------+--+ }             !                !  ! }             !       +--------+  ! }             !       !           ! }       OOOOOOO    OOOOOOOO   OOOOOOO   (Glue the parts together }                                        like this.) } } Then eat the apple, get in front of the daemon, dump the } core of the apple and have the worm to complain about its } segmentation fault. } } You owe the oracle some root beer.

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

>         [Scene:  the bridge of the starship _Enterprise_] > > Sulu:   Object to starboard, Captain. > > Spock:  It is the Usenet Oracle. > > Kirk:   Mr. Sulu, set a course for it. > > Sulu:   [casually flips a few switches, then flips them back and >         forth a few times, a bit more frantically]  No response >         from helm, sir. > > Kirk:   Manual override! > > Sulu:   [flips a few more switches back and forth]  Still nothing, >         sir. > > Kirk:   Bypass! > > Sulu:   [a few more switches]  Helm control restored, Captain. > > Chekov: Brilliant, Keptin!  You know, the bypass system was >         inwented in Russia. > > Spock:  The bypass system was designed by engineers at Starfleet >         Academy, in San Francisco, Ensign. > > Chekov: Well, Starfleet Academy... > > Kirk:   Bridge to Engineering. > > Scott:  Engineering.  Scott here. > > Kirk:   Engage the groveller, Mr. Scott. > > Scott:  The groveller wasna designed for our system, sair.  She'll >         likely overload! > > Kirk:   It's a chance we'll have to take, Mr. Scott.  Engage! > > Scott:  Aye.  [trembles and sweats, as he slowly presses the button >         on the groveller] > > Groveller:  Oracle.  [Makes a horrendous buzzing sound.  Sparks fly, >         and smoke billows out of the groveller.] > > Kirk:   "Oracle"?  That's it? > > Scott:  She overloaded, sair! > > Kirk:   How long to repair, Scotty? > > Scott:  The database is completely burned out, sair!  At least >         twenty minutes. > > Kirk:   Spock!  Sensor readings! > > Spock:  The Oracle is showing signs of impatience.  Understandable, >         since this is the fifty-ninth line, and we have yet to >         produce a grovel, or even a question for the Oracle. > > Kirk:   We don't have twenty minutes, Scotty!  You've got five! > > Scott:  Aye, sair. > > Kirk:   We may have to come up with a grovel without the machine. >         Spock? > > Spock:  "Oracle, most logical..." > > McCoy:  Blast it, Spock!  Not everybody is so hung up on logic as >         you are!  The Oracle doesn't want to hear about logic! > > Spock:  The Oracle is known to be highly intelligent, Doctor. > > McCoy:  I rest my case! > > Kirk:   Well, so much for Spock's grovel.  You got a better idea, >         Bones? > > McCoy:  How about, "Oracle, most _il_logical"? > > Spock:  Doctor, your failure to grasp the simple virtue of logic >         never ceases to amaze me.  It would be interesting to see >         the Oracle incarnated as you; the resulting stream of bad >         Oracularities would be most amusing. > > Kirk:   Gentlemen, this isn't getting us anywhere.  Chekov? > > Chekov: "Oracle, most Russian..." > > Kirk:   That's a grovel? > > Chekov: Eet ees a wery high compliment, Keptin! > > Kirk:   Scotty!  What've you got down there? > > Scott:  I replaced the database with items from my quarters, sair. > > Kirk:   Good work, Scotty!  Engage the groveller! > > Groveller:  "Oracle most grand, who could drink a hundred Scotsmen >         under the table (or a thousand Irishmen), who has a blue >         first-place ribbon under his kilt..." > > Kirk:   A blue *what*? > > Scott:  Have ya never haird the one 'bout the Scotsman an' the blue >         ribbon? > > Spock:  A very crude joke, Captain.  Undoubtedly, not an appropriate >         first impression for a respresentative of the Federation. >         It would be most illogical to employ such a grovel for our >         meeting with the Oracle. > > McCoy:  Now listen here, you pointy-eared Vulcan!  Scotty's grovel >         may not be based on so-called "universal virtues" like >         virtues, but at least it has character-- which is more than >         can be said for yours! > > Spock:  "&$%@! Oracle" would also have character, Doctor, yet I >         would hardly recommend it. > > Kirk:   Damn.  I can't believe we've come all this way, to be >         stopped by a lack of grovelling material! > > Spock:  In chess, when one has insufficient material, the game is >         over.  Checkmate. > > Kirk:   Not chess, Mister Spock--  Poker!  Lieutenant Uhura, hail >         the Oracle! > > Uhura:  Hailing frequencies open, sir. > > Kirk:   Oracle.  This is Captain James T. Kirk of the Federation >         Starship Enterprise.  Our mission is one of peace, but we >         have the means to defend ourselves, and will use it if >         necessary.  I warn you not to test us.  We have a device >         called Corbomite.  If anyone or anything attempts to <ZOT!> >         this vessel, the Corbomite absorbes the energy, and >         generates a counter<ZOT!> of equal magnitude, destroying the >         attacker.  [gestures] > > Uhura:  Hailing frequencies closed.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Oracle: Corbomite?  Feh.  The Oracle is all-seeing, and It knows that }         there is no such thing as corbomite. } }                       <ZOT> } } [The Enterprise explodes.  The Oracle is not affected.] } } Oracle: Good riddance.