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

> Why did Sonny die in a ski accident?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} He got yewed, babe. } } You owe The Oracle a furry vest.

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

> What does binary newsgroup means?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Ahh, this is a very subtle question, and you have demonstrated your } insight by correctly using the pluperfect subjunctive in framing it. } Good work, supplicant! } } A "binary newsgroup" is one in which the participants routinely divide } into warring camps, one-half of them taking the affirmative, the other } half assuming the negative. } } In other words, for all practical purposes, all of Usenet is binary. } } You owe the Oracle a very fine twit filter.

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

> A dilute peer enema.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} <blink>  Well, yes... That's the best kind, I suppose...  There must be } something wrong here.  Let's try some filters... } } > Date puerile enema. } } No, that can't be right.  At least I hope not... } } > A reptile due enema. } } Hmm... } } > I am a peeled tenure! } } No, no, NO! } } > I ape a rude element. } } Yes, we had noticed.  But at least you are making sense.  Sort } of.  Continue... } } > Due eaten, I'm a leper. } > Nude, apt, eerie male, } > deep, elite, urea man. } > Pure, lame detainee. } > Leapt, am eerie nude; } > I am a nude leper tee. } } Umm, yes.  Well, I've had worse grovels, if not more bizarre.  So what } is your question, supplicant? } } > Emulate ape in deer. } } That's either impossible, illegal, or redundant.  Whyever would you } wish to turn graceful, lithe ungulates into massive, hairy primates? } } > I delete ape manure. } } Ahh, and you would rather remove deer manure.  I can understand that, I } certainly prefer... Ahem. } } > Team a puerile need. } } Keep your twisted fantasies involving me to yourself, supplicant!  I } assure you I have no lean-- } } > Deepen amateur lie. } } I will assume, for your sake, that that was never said.  You are well } advised to change the subject, or one of us is going to start } inhabiting a dustpan. } } > Rupee Dementia Ale. } } Finally, something I can get behind!  Indeed, a fine brew.  Much better } than that 'merkin stuff they try to pass off as beer.  I remem-- } } > Deep, male urine tea. } } Umm, yes, American beer *is* bad... } } > Permeate due alien. } } No, it's just bad beer.  Has nothing to do with alien conspiracies. } Although J. Edgar Hoover di-- } } > Repeated, alien emu! } } Are you listening, supplicant? I just said } } > Rude, mean, elite ape. } } Huh?  You're interrupting me!  And talk about your mixed } } > I'm laureate.  Deepen. } } One, Two, Three... Okay, but you haven't exactly asked any deep } questions. } } > Deep emulate in ear. } } <The Oracle is stunned> } } > Urinated ape melee. } } That's it!  I've had enough of you!  This supplication is over!  What } did you say your name was? } } > Peter Emile Nadeau. } } Well, Pete, you may wish to notify your next of kin.  Meanwhile... } } You owe The Orac-- } } > Due entire male ape? } } No, dammit, what would I do with an ape?  I already said I prefered } de-- <cough>  Anyway, I just want you to make sense! } } > A deeper, male unite. } } Ugh.  *ZOT*

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

> Oracle most wise, who never has to suffer to stupidity of pointy-haired > bosses, please answer my most humble of questions: > > How does my boss expect me to fill out a self-assessment against > my job description when I have never had a job description? > My performance review is tomorrow morning and any insight would be > greatly appreciated.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Job description: n/a } Tasks required:  none } } Self-assessment: I have performed tirelessly and perfectly all the } tasks outlined in my job description with a consistently high degree } of speed, accuracy and creativity.  I have received no complaints } whatsoever for my work on these tasks, and have caused no bugs, server } crashes, or general protection faults.  My work on these tasks has met } the highest standards of quality assurance and Year 2000 } compatibility, and will run with equal excellence on any platform at } all, including the Commodore 64 and ENIAC. } } You owe the Oracle a Y2K-compliant Difference Engine.

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

>

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} No, I will _not_ grant you total immunity before you ask your } question!!! } } You owe the Oracle a good excuse.

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

>  O Oracle, most timely: > >  So, I went in a time machine back to the Mesozoic era and accidentally >  stepped on an insect. Everything all right up there?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} As far as I know, everything's OK here. By the way, what's an insect? } } You owe the Oracle a pollinator.

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

> Oracle most literary, who is never wanting for a good idea, > > I need to write a sonnet for my English class. But I don't know what to > write about. Any ideas?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} No, of *course* not. I have no ideas whatsoever. Me, the Most } Knowledgeable of Knowledgeable. No ideas *at all*. Nope. Nuh-uh. Not } here. *rolls eyes* } }   Supplicant, I think you'd best write about the crush you have on } Sally. No, really. It's the best way to segue into asking her if she } wants to go to Winter Formal with you. Especially after you read it out } loud in class. I know, it's a rather mortifying thought. But what the } heck! You're only 10th graders. The Universe doesn't *totally* revolve } around you, if you can believe it. Trust me; I know these things. } }   And after she cruelly dumps you for Robert, three months after the } dance, you'll meet Katy! Whom you'll date for seven years. You'll make } every important decision of your life based on Katy. You'll pick that } dinky state college in Iowa over your dream school (MIT) in order to be } near Katy. You'll major in *Econ*, because Katy majors in *Econ*, so } you can be in the same classes as Katy. You'll spend every waking } moment of your life (and even some of the sleeping ones) with Katy, } those entire seven years. You'll move to Los Angeles because Katy wants } to move to Los Angeles and become an actress, and one day, you'll bend } down on one knee and ask Katy to marry you. } }   And when Katy dumps you to marry Benjamin after finding out that he's } the real father of her child, you'll meet Lateesha, the exotic dancer } at the bar across the street from the fast food restaurant you work at! } Every Thursday night, after you've hung your hairnet in for the day, } you'll go to the bar (because that's when Lateesha's there) and you'll } ogle her for hours. For four years. And although you don't know it, } Lateesha is your soul mate, and she notices you every week, and you } become the object of her adoration. The Thursday night you finally } gather the nerve to ask her out on a date, you'll enter the bar only to } find that she's not there. Because Big Cory, the local Mafia chapter } president, has ordered her to be taken out, because, you discover, } Lateesha's really an undercover cop who's been monitoring illicit } activities in the area, and she had just gathered enough evidence to } turn Big Cory in. } }   In despair, you'll wander home and plunk yourself in front of the } television, zombie-like. You'll flip through the channels mechanically, } watching the bright images float across the screen. You stop at a news } report with Lateesha's obituary. Angry and depressed, you'll turn to } another station. That station turns out to be showing the Oscars, and } the scene it presents you is of Katy being given the award for Best } Actress, for her work in a highly acclaimed remake of "Gone With the } Wind". In disgust, you'll turn to yet another station, only to find } Sally delivering the State of the Union address. } }   Er... on second thought, why don't you write about your pet ducky? } "The brilliant duck doth nobly quacketh so..." } }   You owe The Oracle a sonnet on either of the aforementioned subjects.

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

> Oh Oracle most wise, who has more power in his/her/its >  little finger than Bill Gates has dollars, answer me: >  WHERE HAS THAT FINGER BEEN???

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Ah, the places that my finger hath been. I cannot recount them } all to you, as that would use up all the time available in your } pitiful human life. You ask about my little finger, and so I shall } not even mention the places my almighty index finger has been, such } as pointing the way forward for the universe after the big bang, and } engraving the Grand Canyon into the landscape of Colorado.  But my } little finger has been places and done things you could not imagine. } It stirs the oceans, causing havoc for the local fish populations, } but making the ocean currents the powerful forces they are. It taps } the clouds when they get a bit full, causing rain. It nudges the odd } glacier here and there, causing iceberg formation. It went into my } ear once, when the wax buildup started to bother me. And naturally, } the one everybody knows about, is the infamous asteroid belt. But we } won't go into that in detail. Just leave it said that my little finger } has made good use of the opportunities I have afforded it. } } You owe the Oracle an industrial sized earbud.

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

> Oh, Oracle Most Wise, > if my life were a movie, > is this is about the right time to go for popcorn?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} No. You'll have to wait until it gets interesting. } } You owe the Oracle a commercial break.

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

> O Oracle most rhythmical and lyrical, please inform me, > > During a conversation with a friend, he told that a person of our > mutual aquaintance had composed what he believed to be a wonderful > work of art in poetic form.  Unfortunately, he able to recall only the > first four lines of what he assured me was an epic work.  They read: > >       Eagle, eagle in the sky, >       How is it that you fly so high? >       "Why," said the eagle, "with wings, of course! >       Otherwise I'd be like a horse!" > > Can you tell me, in your wisdom, what the text of the rest of the poem > was?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Actually, those four lines have been a recurring theme in many types } of poetry and song.  Since I'm not sure which version you are after, } I'll send you the ending for each one that I have. } } William Shakespeare: } }       In sooth, I know not why I fly so high, }       Wings carry me; yet cannot carry you. }       My equine friend must fail, though he doth try, }       And is but destined ever for the plough. } } Nihlist (in free-verse): } }       The bird flew over the rotting corpse of the horse. }       It landed upon the horse, and picked at the festering flesh. }       It was poisened and died horribly. }       A bird flew over and landed on it's rotting corpse. } } 50's Mod (picture a guy with a goatee wearing all black): } }       Bird bird flap squawk fly up up }       Not horse clip-clop-clip-clop burden ground, terra bound, }       battleground Injustice, in practice, wing of bird, hoof of steel }       Toil before the wheel snap snap } } Heavy-Metal: } }       I, will never die, but I will fly, }       To the other side. }       And, upon the horse, the walking curse, }       Of the evil lies. <wild guitar solo here> } } Doo-wop: } }       There was a bird, and he could fly so high, }       And the horse said, how do you do it, guy? }       And then they talked, two animals in the glade }       Oh what a love-ly, picture they made. } } Psychodelic: } }       Picture yourself on a bird; on an eagle, }       Over pastures with horses just walking around, }       Suddenly someone is there and she's saying, }       That bird's so incredibly high. } }       Lifted by feathers of white, tan, and brown, }       Towering over your head, }       Laugh at the horse, with his feet on the ground, }       And we're gone. } }               Eagle in the sky, with wings on, }               Horse is on the ground, walking 'round, }               Bird is so, so high, can't be found, }               Ahhh-ahhh. } } Country: } }       I was driving down the road in my pickup truck, }       When I saw an eagle fly and I said "what the heck", }       He looked like my ex-wife's old horse only he had wings, }       Which reminded me of my prison time and other bad things. } }               Trigger, lather up the saddle, ride that horse so hard, }               The eagle flies into the sky, so we must be on guard, }               And if you win you get this bag of oats, woven from gold, }               And if you lose that eagle gets your foal. } }       The eagle bowed it's beak because it knows when it's been beat, }       And laid that golden oat-sack on the ground at trigger's feet. }       Trigger said "You can come on back, if you ever want to race }       again, 'Cause I've beat you once, you feathered fiend, and I'll }               beat you once again!" } } You owe the Oracle a faster horse, some birdseed, and a diamond for } Lucy. } } (Oracle incarnated as hinzd@med.ge.com)