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

> ::grovel:: ::grovel:: > > How many licks does it take to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a > Tootsie pop?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} It depends. } } If you're a wise old owl:  3 } If you're a child:         a mean of 89.2, normally distributed }                            with a standard deviation of 23.1 } If you're a porn star:     infinity } If you're Madonna:         1 } If you're a zen master:    you are one with the Tootsie Roll center }                            of a Tootsie Pop } If you're Marv Albert:     none, I bit it right away, but I thought }                            that's what it wanted } If you're OJ Simpson:      I licked it because I loved it } If you're Bill Clinton:    I ate a Tootsie Pop, but I didn't lick } If you're the Oracle:      Lisa does the licking } } You owe the Oracle ... oh, never mind, there's nothing else in the } world that I really need.

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

> Hey Oracleman, riddle me this! > > Expand  (x-a)*(x-b)*(x-c)*...*(x-z)

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

}     "Holy Hofstadter, Oracleman!  That's going to be one wicked } polynominal!" exclaimed Lisa. }     "Indeed," I replied, noting that she was already busy scribbling an } expansion on her notepad, "but the twenty-fourth term is the killer." }     "Twenty-fourth?" she said, puzzled.  "Um, that would be... (x-x)?" }     I stared at her until she slapped her head in annoyance.  "Of } course!  It all reduces to zero!  But why would the Puzzler send you } something so obvious?" }     "Because its a clue to something more sinister, chum.  That's what } we have to find out." } }     Normally the Puzzler gives obvious hints about his capers, but this } one had even my razor-sharp mind boggled. }     Lisa had all but given up.  She sat in the large armchair in the } Commissioner's office, fiddling dejectedly with the envelope in which } the message came.  She stared at it, then sniffed it cautiously. }     "Smells like chicken," she sighed. }     Her statement triggered something in the back of my mind.  "What?" } I asked cautiously. }     "Oh, this stain on the envelope.  It smells like chicken grease." }     I practically leaped across the room to snatch the envelope from } her startled hands. }     After taking a deep whiff myself, I said, "Not just any kind of } fried chicken, chum, but *Polly's* Fried Chicken!" }     The Commissioner marveled at my sensitive nose, but he was still } missing the connection.  Fortunately, Lisa didn't. }     "Polly... polynominal!" }     "Right!" I shouted, glad to be on the track of something.  "And I } would gamble anything that there's a Polly's Chicken franchise on } Nominal Avenue.  To the Oraclemobile!" }     The Commissioner was reaching for the phone book as Lisa and I } bolted from the room.  "Don't bother checking, Commissioner," she } called back over her shoulder, "he's always right!" } }     Indeed I was.  We entered the Polly's Chicken on Nominal from the } roof.  Scaling walls is easy; all you have to do is pretend that } everyone is looking at you sideways and that you're really walking } along the ground. }     The store was deserted. }     "Perhaps it was a coincidence?" my partner inquired, almost } apologetically. }     "With the Puzzler, it's *never* a coincidence," I snarled back. }     As if on cue, all the lights in the store came on, momentarily } blinding us.  When our eyes undazzled, we found ourselves facing two } large guys in bowling shirts, each bearing the embroidered name } "Herb." }     Also present was the Puzzler!  "Herbs," he shouted, "get them!" }     The Herbs were no match for our polished fighting skills, so it } looked like an easy win... until the Spice Girls suddenly appeared and } started singing.  We tried to hold out as long as possible, but } eventually the pain was too much and we had to cover our ears. } Without the use of our arms, the Herbs (who were wearing earmuffs, I } noted) quickly beat us into unconsciousness. } }     I awoke first. }     "Ah, Oracleman!  I see you're awake.  What do you think of my } seven secret Herbs and Spices?" }     "I think you're insane," I muttered. }     We had been manicled to chairs.  In front of me was a computer } console.  The handcuffs I wore gave me just enough slack to reach the } keyboard. }     Lisa moaned to signal her return to consciousness. }     "I see you're curious about this setup.  The computer in front of } you will begin to display logic puzzles.  You have thirty seconds to } solve each one.  If you answer incorrectly or fail to answer at all, } the crack in the platform below you will open an inch.  When it opens } wide enough, you and your lovely companion will be dumped directly } into the deep fat fryer, and you'll quickly become tomorrow's special } of the day." }     "You twisted goon!  Leave Lisa out of this!" }     "Sorry, Oracleman!  I need to keep the both of you busy while I go } out and commit the Crime of the Century!  Herbs!  Spices!  Pack up, } we're moving out." }     He chuckled evilly as the first logic puzzle appeared on the } screen.  "Enjoy yourself, Oracleman.  Don't think too hard; you'll } give yourself a headache..." } }     Great Spicy Chicks!  Can Orrie and Lisa escape before they become } just another Urban Legend?  Find out next week!  Same Oracle time, } same Oracle channel!

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

> Hey, it's almost the weekend!  What shall I do?  What will you do?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} I'm thinking a *real* party!!!  None of this "Martha Stewart" stuff, } I'll have a *real* party!!! What makes a *real* party different from } other social affairs?? Two things: } } 1. As much as anyone can remember, it was more fun. } 2. No one can remember very much. } } *Real* parties are given for pleasure only and never to mark an } occassion.  There can no more be a reason for a *real* party than there } can be an excuse for what goes on after it starts. } } *Real* parties vary tremendously in type an style, but all share } certain things in common. } } -  *Real* parties don't start until after midnight. } -  No friendship or romantic relationship should survive a *real* party }    fully intact. } -  Neither should much furniture. } -  Someone should have underpants on his head by two a.m. } -  By three a.m. someone should have called the police. } -  Someone else should have called Mikhail Gorbachov long distance to }    invite him over. } -  By five a.m. everyone should have gotten in cars and tried to go }    someplace else and backed into each other instead. } -  All your friends should still be there when you come to in the }    morning. } } Most parties are not *real* parties.  And some parties can never be } *real* parties no matter how hard the partygoers try.  Among these are: } } -Office Christmas parties } -Wine-tasting parties } -Book-publishing parties } -Parties with themes, such as "Las Vegas Nite" or "Waikiki Whoopee" } -Parties at which anyone is wearing a blue velvet tuxedo jacket } -Parties at the homes of people who don't smoke, have subscriptions to }  Commentary, own china figurine collections, or were ever in the Peace }  Corps } -Parties at which more than six of the guests are related by blood. } -The Republican Party } } Small parties are very easy to plan... An old Supremes tape, a fifth of } Stolichnaya, and some copies of Penthouse from the 70's make for a } perfect small party without the bother and complication of guests. } } You owe the Oracle a case of Doritos, Led Zepplin tapes, a three-pack } of Hanes (34 waist), and Mikhail Gorbachov's phone number.

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

> ::grovel:: ::grovel:: > > If you crossed Marilyn Manson with Hanson, what would you get?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Fifteen to twenty, with time off for good behavior. } } You owe the Oracle an antidote for "Jailhouse Rock".

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

> Bah, Ho Humbug. > Why do I sit here every day, answering all these @#$X! questions? > People send me null questions, cliche questions, woodchuck, or even NO > questions!  This whole supplicant thing is just a crock. > ZADOC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! > > {Zadoc runs in, wrapping paper trailing behind} > ZADOC: Sorry, my master, whose halls I am not worthy to deck.  I was > busy wrapping your present.  It was extra hard, I mean, what do you get > for the man who knows everything? > > ORACLE: Zadoc, I'm giving up. > > ZADOC:  What?  On MY present?  Oh come master, you always know what to > get (you know EVERYTHING of course.)  I so loved that "I'm with > All-Knowing" shirt you got me last year. > > ORACLE:  No, no, no..... your "I became 'Highest Oracular Priest' and > all I got was this lousy T-shirt" wrapped.  I'm talking about this > whole life.  Getting questions, giving answers.  It is done. > > ZADOC: GASP!  But master!  The supplicants! > > ORACLE: What, are there no Fortune Tellers, or Psychic Friends > Networks? > > ZADOC: But many would rather die! > > ORACLE: Well maybe they should!  And decrease the surplus population! > Now Zadoc, GOOD DAY! > > {Zadoc leaves, saddened.  The Oracle leans back in his > throne...frustrated, and alone.  Sudddenly, the clock strikes midnight. > A horrible crash, flash, scream and moaning come from outside} > ORACLE: WHO ARE YOU!?!?!?! > > ZADOC (from outside): Oh, sorry master, I was cleaning the staff of zot > and it accidentally went off. > > {The Oracle turns back around and is surprised by a ghostly figure.} > > ORACLE: WHO ARE YOU?!?!?!?! > > GHOST: How ironic that now it is you who is asking the questions. > > ORACLE:  Oh, of course.  I already know, don't I?  In life you were > Clairol, the parody of Clarence the Angel from 942.0, the last time we > did a Christmas special parody. > > CLAIROL: You know the drill, right? > > ORACLE:  I know everything.  3 visits, 3 ghosts, I supposedly get all > mushy and become a better Oracle. > > {Clairol Dissappears.} >       A few minutes later, a ghost appears, looking vary much like > Lisa.  The Oracle, hiding in his Oracular bed, peeks out to ask "Who > are you, and have you come to show me images of my childhood?  And how > my life went astray?" >       Lisa moves closer.  "I am the ghost of Oracularities past, and > we're not going back that far.  Let's go back to 875-03."  With a wave > of her hand, the room has dissappeared.  An Oracularity appears. > The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. > Your question was: > > > O great inscrutable but no doubt meaningful Oracle, in response to a > > recent question, you wisely replied "GET A FKING LIFE YOU GEEK". > > Last time I checked, I had a life (and since your response mercifully > > did not include a ZOT, I probably still do).  Further, it seems like > > it's in pretty fair shape, and likely to last for another 40 years > > anyway. Still, I'm sure you know best.  What sort of LIFE would you > > recommend instead?  (I know you said a FKING LIFE, but could you be a > > little more specific?) > > > > Thanks for your help! > >       "Why have you brought me here," the Oracle asks. >       "Look at this," says Lisa.  "Where else are you get a job where > you can insult people like that, and then win critical acclaim for it? > I mean, Zotting supplicants left and right, telling them off!" >       "Well, I-" the Oracle starts, "Is this all you have to show me?" >       "No, "Lisa says, "Hold on." another Oracularity appears. > The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. > Your question was: > > > Hey, orrie-butt! > >       I'm starting a revolution against you!  I'm sick > > and tired of being pushed around, insulted, and "ZOT!"ed! > > What do you think of THAT!?!?! > > "879-05?" the Oracle asks.  "That's when that supplicant tried to > overthrow me.  Good thing he didn't succeed.  Why are you showing me > this?" but as he turns around, the ghost is gone.  He is back in his > bedroom.  Suddenly, a ghost in the form of Darkmage steps forward. > >       "You Oracularities present, or are you really Darkmage and this > is just another lame parody like the whole Zadoc thing?" the Oracle > asks. >       "I am the ghost." he says.  "I would like to show you some of the > questions you're missing out on right now.  Look at this." > > The Internet Oracle requires an answer to this question! > > > How much \/\/()()|) cood a \/\/()()|)( |-||_|( |< > > ( |-||_|( |< if a \/\/()()|)( |-||_|( |< cood ( |-||_|( |< > > \/\/()()|)? > > "AGH!" the Oracle screams, "I could be ZOTTING that little AOL bastard > right now." >       "But I thought you hated to get mail like that?" Darkmage > replies. "Can't stand being without your little 'ZOT' time, can you?" > > The Internet Oracle requires an answer to this question! > > > > > "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooooooo!" the Oracle screams, > but the ghost is gone.  A new, cloaked figure approaches.  It extends a > long, bony finger.  Immediately recognizing the Ghost of Oracularities > Yet to Come, the Oracle follows. > > The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. > Your question was: > > > Oh, greatest new and improved Oracle!  I've loved you ever since > > 879-05!  But whatever happened to that old loser Oracle that quit? > > And in response, thus spake the Oracle: > > } Oh, that loser I finally overthrew? > } (The New and Improved Oracle looks into a dark and musty corner, > } with a cowering, wretched old man shivering in it. > } He throws a paperweight at the man. > } > } "Hey Mr. All-Seeing!  I'll be you didn't see that one coming!  Hey! > } Tell me about those woodchucks!  Let me hear your witty retorts now!" > } BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA........" > > The Oracle gasps at the hooded ghost, who unveils his face to show he > is the New and Improved Oracle and bursts into tears.  As he looks back > up, he is back in the Oracular quarters.  Zadoc is in front of him > holding out a Christmas present. >       "Now master, no need to cry, if you don't like what I got you you > can just return it."  Zadoc says. >       "Zadoc!" cries the Oracle, "Wer'e back in business!  Tell me, is > that prize turkey still hanging dead in the butchershop down the > street?" >       "Yessir," replies Zadoc. >       "Well run and fetch it then!" he says, "We'll send it to those > animal rights activists who wrote and asked me why I promote so much > harm to woodchucks and other animals!  After that, polish up the staff, > Zadoc.  We got us some Zotting to do." >       You owe it to the Oracle to remember the true meaning of > Christmas.  It's not the askme's, it's the tellme's. > > Dear Oracle, >       I am the Ghost of Nonoracularities past.  I was wondering why > this brilliant answer, in reply to "> ho hum" didn't make it. > >                       Spirit

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} I know it's sad, but the VERY first thing you should do is turn the VCR } off and go directly to Disgruntled Oracles Anonymous.  It's just like a } family there.

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

> O Really Nifty Oracle, some people have been making predictions that > the world will end on New Year's Day in 2000 (or maybe 1999), and I > have been wondering - could we get an extra hour if we all go on > daylight savings time?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} O Truly Sapient Supplicant, even though the time of the ultimate } destruction of the Universe is carved in letters as deep as the earth } is distant from the sun in the Dining Table Of The Gods, if anything } could delay it, it is surely this sort of clever legalistic thinking } your race indulges in so abundantly. } So, although the end of the world is not as near as the cassandras } you've been listening to would have you believe, it is entirely } possible that it could be postponed through the sort of shady maneuver } you have proposed. The Gods are amazingly sympathetic to that sort of } quibbling. } } You owe the Oracle a wristwatch that keeps sidereal time.

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

> O most wondrous and amazing oracle, tell me whether Guinea pigs are > truly pigs.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} I really don't, why don't we ask some? } } (*The Oracle digs around his pocket, and digs out two Guinea pigs*) } } Orrie: Oink oink, oink-oink-oink? } } Guinea pigs: Oink oink. } } There you go Supplicant, you have your answer!

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

> Good morning campers ... > > I'm your uncle Zadoc and I welcome you to ORRIE'S HOLIDAY CAMP! > > The camp with the difference, never mind the weather, > when you come to Orrie's , the holiday's forever ...

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Orrie, can you tellme? }                       Orrie, can you tellme? }                       Orrie, can you tellme? }                       ORRIE, CAN YOU TELLME? } } ...Do you think it's alright to leave the Staff with Uncle Zadoc? ... } } "I'm your wicked Uncle Zadoc }  My intentions far from ad hoc }  As I fiddle about, }  Fiddle about, }  Fiddle about! } }  Old Orrie left me here to bed you }  Gone to cs.indiana.edu }  As I fiddle about, }  Fiddle about, }  Fiddle about!" } }                                            Askme, tellme, }                                            Help me, queue me }                                            Askme, tellme, }                                            Help me, queue me } }                     I boom as I answer }                 Make you grovel at my feet }                   In awe of such wisdom }                 Such grandness yet to meet }                   You'll feel me coming, }                     A new vibration! }                     For I who answer: }                     An Incarnation! }                     An Incarnation! } }                   I'm always right!... } } "Lisa's got the power to heal you, never fear! }  Lisa's got the power to heal you, never fear! }  Just a word from her lips }  And the woodchucks gather near..." } } Ever since I was a young boy } I answered to the call } From Windows up to woodchucks } I thought I knew it all } But I ain't seen nothing like him } In comp.unix.internals } That all-knowin' newsgroup } rec.humor.oracle! } } He responds like a listproc } As if part of the machine } Knowing all the answers } But always keeps it clean } Cuttin' down the tellme's } When the queue is full } That all-knowin' newsgroup } rec.humor.oracle! } } He's a Usenet wizard } There has to be a twist } An usenet wizard } No digest should be missed! } } How do you think he does it? }                          I don't know! } What makes him so good? } } Even at my supplication, } He responds the best! } We just do the tellme's, } And he just does the rest } Got a crazy busy Priesthood } To lead us to his call, } That all-known' newsgroup } rec.humor.oracle! } }   Responding to you, I get the answers }   Voting on you, I get the heat }   Forwarding you, I join the millions }   Who are not worthy to kiss your feet } }   Following you, I see your backside }   On you, I see the blood stains }   From you, I get the Zot Staff }   From you, I get the story } }   Archiving you, I get the web hits }   From you, I get the glory }   Digesting you, we store the good ones }   Keeping the crap out of the newsfeed } }   Listening to you, I learned to crochet }   To find a ladder more sturdy }   To post in a newsgroup so spamless }   As rec.humor.oracle.d ... } } You owe the Oracle a flashing spinning mail server and 300 X terminals } bordering the stage.

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

> Tell Me Oh Oracle Who Can Rhyme Better Than Johnnie Cochran, > > What do you have when you have a lawyer buried up to his neck in sand?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Top 10 Punch-Lines for That Joke: } }       10) A good start! }       9) Not enough sand! }       8) A waste of sand - the bottom of the sea is more efficient! }       7) One angry lawyer. }       6) The perfect spot to put rabid wolverine bait. }       5) Half of a Money Trap. }       4) A good spot for Og to have target practice with his club. }       3) Too much time to wait until high tide. }       2) A great money-maker: people pay a dollar and they get to whack }          the lawyer with a mallet. } } And the number one thing you have when you have a lawyer buried up to } his neck in sand is... } }       1) About a foot too much lawyer!

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

> Oh Oracle most cute and cuddley; whom I would rather hug than my > favourite teddy-bear; who is squashier than towels washed in > 'Fairy Snow' *and* tumble-dried with 'Bounce'; who is softer, > stronger and even longer than Andrex Toilet Tissue; who is > more articulate than *any* of the Teletubbies; who is more > chocolately than ... umm ... well, just *more* chocolately, > > please deign to answer a question from your humble, snivelling wretch > of a slave which, although far beyond my ability to even comprehend > (I had to consult three text books just to work out the *question*), > will, undoubtably, be to your computationally perfect (to the n-th > degree) self a mere flick of a bead on your galactic abacus ... > > I received a large number of gifts from my True Love over the festive > period, but being a mere maths graduate I couldn't manage to count > them all. Please, what is the total number of gifts I received over > the twelve days, and does the cumulative total for each day make > an interesting mathematical sequence?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Well, I can answer your question, but I think that 'true love' has } blinded you to the real feelings of your partner. I.e. } } On the first day of christmas my true love gave to me, a 'goodbye' in a } calm tone. } } On the second day of christmas my true love gave to me, two 'get lost } now's, and a 'goodbye' in a calm tone. } } On the third day of christmas my true love gave to me, three poison } letters, two 'get lost now's, and a 'goodbye' in a calm tone. } } On the fourth day of christmas my true love gave to me, four bashings } from her brother, three poison letters, two 'get lost now's, and a } 'goodbye' in a calm tone. } } On the fifth day of christmas my true love gave to me, five lawyer's } letters, four bashings from her brother, three poison letters, two 'get } lost now's, and a 'goodbye' in a calm tone. } } On the six day of christmas my true love gave to me, six gangsters } threatening, five lawyer's letters, four bashings from her brother, } three poison letters, two 'get lost now's, and a 'goodbye' in a calm } tone. } } On the seventh day of christmas my true love gave to me, seven letter } bombs, six gangsters threatening, five lawyer's letters, four bashings } from her brother, three poison letters, two 'get lost now's, and a } 'goodbye' in a calm tone. } } On the eighth day of christmas my true love gave to me, eight hitmen } shooting, seven letter bombs, six gangsters threatening, five lawyer's } letters, four bashings from her brother, three poison letters, two 'get } lost now's, and a 'goodbye' in a calm tone. } } On the ninth day of christmas my true love gave to me, nine turds } a'mailed, eight hitmen shooting, seven letter bombs, six gangsters } threatening, five lawyer's letters, four bashings from her brother, } three poison letters, two 'get lost now's, and a 'goodbye' in a calm } tone. } } On the tenth day of christmas my true love gave to me, ten relatives } dead, nine turds a'mailed, eight hitmen shooting, seven letter bombs, } six gangsters threatening, five lawyer's letters, four bashings from } her brother, three poison letters, two 'get lost now's, and a 'goodbye' } in a calm tone. } } On the eleventh day of christmas my true love gave to me, eleven armies } attacking, ten relatives dead, nine turds a'mailed, eight hitmen } shooting, seven letter bombs, six gangsters threatening, five lawyer's } letters, four bashings from her brother, three poison letters, two 'get } lost now's, and a 'goodbye' in a calm tone. } } On the twelth day of christmas my true love gave to me, twelve hydrogen } bombs, eleven armies attacking, ten relatives dead, nine turds } a'mailed, eight hitmen shooting, seven letter bombs, six gangsters } threatening, five lawyer's letters, four bashings from her brother, } three poison letters, two 'get lost now's, and a 'goodbye' in a calm } tone. } } The 'Mathematical sequence' is of course that Mathematicians and other } nerds always have to go through the entire sequence before they get } message. And there the song ends. Which is a pity in a way as on the } thirteenth day your 'true love' will be dumped by her new boyfriend and } she'll ask you to take her back. } } You owe The Oracle a copy of Og's new book 'Og not live with female, Og } not live without female, Og not eat female'.