From oracle-admin@cs.indiana.edu Sat Dec 23 22:31:52 2000 Received: (from daemon@localhost) by moose.cs.indiana.edu (8.9.3/8.9.3/IUCS_2.29) id WAA22036; Sat, 23 Dec 2000 22:11:21 -0500 (EST) Date: Sat, 23 Dec 2000 22:11:21 -0500 (EST) From: Internet Oracle Message-Id: <200012240311.WAA22036@moose.cs.indiana.edu> To: oracle-list@cs.indiana.edu Subject: Internet Oracularities #1197 Reply-To: oracle-vote@cs.indiana.edu X-Face: )/f9dPAX/dU$1Z!U(/?A PiIJvIOtcN@L.>6,2OKd."T#S7b*{feRf.Kns23^P9.Ak{GdWWv]0*1E}RJ)_idU:(5VkN*_+bB kyrnLfC12B>V/q=z32:05`EcAd.!z#3k]h)O!ZU^E"f`@),(2WT X-Planation: X-Face can be viewed with ftp.cs.indiana.edu:/pub/faces. === 1197 ================================================================= Title: Internet Oracularities #1197 Compiled-By: Steve Kinzler Date: Sat, 23 Dec 2000 22:11:21 -0500 (EST) @@@ -<*>- Happy Holidays! -<*>- To find out all about the Internet Oracle (TM), including how to participate, send mail to oracle@cs.indiana.edu with the word "help" in the subject line. ("Internet Oracle" is a trademark of Stephen B Kinzler.) Let us know what you like! Send your ratings of these 10 Oracularities on an integer scale of 1 ("very poor") to 5 ("very good") with the volume number to oracle-vote@cs.indiana.edu (probably just reply to this message). For example: 1197 2 1 3 4 3 5 3 3 4 1 1192 63 votes 59kp4 7bli6 hhk54 6fdo5 86kfe 2htb4 8bob9 4kqa3 6cecj 6bsd5 1192 3.0 mean 3.2 3.1 2.4 3.1 3.3 3.0 3.0 2.8 3.4 3.0 --- 1197-01 -------------------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: "Alyce M. Wilson" The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > Egor: "More questions for the master, yes, yes, more questions for the > master..." > > Oracle: "Er, Igor?" > > Egor: "That's Egor, master, yes, as I said before." > > Oracle: "Ah, yes, now I remember. Egor, then. Egor, why did you come > back? We're not advertising for a new in-joke to my knowledge, and if > we are, then I must have words with Zadoc..." > > Egor: "Egor merely wishes to serve the master, yes, and grovel before > his magnificence!" > > Oracle: "..." > > Egor: "Egor would like to know, how the master speaks in punctuation, > yes." > > Oracle: "It's simple, you just- no, no, I'm not going to tell you. In > fact..." > > [Oracle turns to the door.] > > Oracle: "ZADOC!" > > [Zadoc enters.] > > Oracle: "Please, see Egor to the front door, would you?" And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } Egor: "No! I! Will! Not! GO!" } } } } Oracle picks up a still smoldering charred skull that is giving } off a most disdainful burnt stench, "Alas poor Egor, I didn't } want to know him and now he smells." } } ---\ /--- } } In-joking is not for amateurs. I can't tell you how many times } I've gotten a panic filled email from some froup moderator trying } to repair the shattered soul of some innocent newbie that had an } in-joke go off as they were trying to sound like 'one of the guys'. } Keep in mind that ALL in-jokes are inherently unstable! } } Please people! Leave in-jokes to expendable professionals, like } the priests, who are trained just for the task of dealing with } and disposing of in-jokes! } } That being said, The Oracle would like to announce right this } second the first ten in-jokes of the 2000s so that people can } enter into the new decade in a heighten state of preparation } and awareness. Use -extreme- caution when discussing any of } the following in-jokes. } } --=+<{( )}>+=-- } } 2000: Captain Hook } } role: Cankerous old coot that is the bogey man of rhod, shows up } when ever a grumpy comical enemy or stock bad guy is needed } } Abuse can result in peg legs, left eye atrophy, parrotism and long } pointless quests masked as trips of self-discovery. } } --=+<{( )}>+=-- } } 2001: Ryot Grrl } } role: Anarchist for the new millennium, used to shout out nihilist } anti capitalistic rants or when a commercial district } needs trashing, Ryot Grrl intended use is to show 'thumb on } the pulse of today's youth' aspect of the Oracle as riots } grip urban areas for most of 2001 } } Abuse can results in "rubber bullet marks" on the torso and long } weekends in the slammer. } } --=+<{( )}>+=-- } } 2002: Ernie the Devil Cat } } role: counterweight to 1990's era in-joke the Bright Red Siamese } Fighting Fish. After the President's cat mauls Barbara } Walters the cat in question, Ernie, enters public } consciousness as a symbol of unprovoked aggression } } Abuse can result in public 'feline' consumption, drunkenness and } odd diggings in public places. } } --=+<{( )}>+=-- } } 2003: Flipper's Corpse } } role: Wildly unlikely, yet bizarrely reoccurring image of this } dead TV show critter's corpse shows up in so many } questions and answers that it joins what is to be } later referred to by historians as "The Three Animal } Injokes of Y2K 2,3 & 4" } } Abuse can result in 'tuna breath'. } } --=+<{( )}>+=-- } } 2004: The Baboon Proctologist } } role: The heated debate about government veterinary HMOs } in the USA results in this colorful creature showing } up in numerous answers as a foil for the issue of } animal health insurance } } Abuse leads -without fail- to ghostly nightmares of paranoid } prosecution and insatiable desire to eat tiny timid geese. } } --=+<{( )}>+=-- } } 2005: toothpicks } } role: after the hit comedy of Y2K-5, "A Man and his Calendar" } the whole world can hardly say the word toothpick without } laughing, the Oracle follows suit } } Abuse leads to 'thin stick' ridicule. } } --=+<{( )}>+=-- } } 2006: "And what sea does that refer to?" } } role: "A Man and his Calendar II" sweeps the Oscars, as } does the most inane catch phrase of the decade } } Abuse ( see above ) } } --=+<{( )}>+=-- } } 2007: Little Bo Peep } } role: In a violent backlash to the now embarrassing infatuation } with the whole "A Man and his Calendar" situation, the } Oracle's followers retreat into something safe and sane. } Little Bo Peep shows up when a voice of calm innocence } is needed to still the bizarre waters so to speak } } Abuse leads to sheep disorders. } } --=+<{( )}>+=-- } } 2008: Three Pigs in a Blanket } } role: As 'mad cow' disease renders the survivors in Europe } to a state of substance level vegetarianism, references } to the willing consumption of meat take on a macabre } humor that reaches a peek in the Oracle's cruelly famous } "Three Pigs in a Blanket" answer of February 6th, 2008 } } Abuse leads to inoperable UK tract disorders. } } --=+<{( )}>+=-- } } 2009: "Mr. ASCII turns out the lights" } } role: As the Oracle moves the last of his world from USENET } to the NueralTRanOpt grokers laugh at the antics of } this characterization of an old man still clinging to } the lost art of literacy and 'keyboards', Mr. ASCII is } not a neo-luddite as much as an unreformed idealist. } Newer readers love to hate him, older readers find } his ideas charming, if dated and quaint. } } Abuse leads to Netophobia. } } --=+<{( )}>+=-- } } You owe the Oracle a real live owl. --- 1197-02 -------------------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: "Alyce M. Wilson" The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > Oh wise and overworked Oracle, > > why is it that your queue is so full in the moment? Are the priests on > the strike and / or considering forming a union? And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } :: } :: THIS IS AN AUTOMATED REPLY THAT HAS KEYED ON THE WORD "UNION" } :: } } Dear Supplicant Response Technician, } } When the Oracle started many years ago, we realized the needs of the } common worker. This is why we supply priests with the very choicest of } benefits, like health and dental plans, stock options, and "Crazy Donut } Fridayz" at our corporate offices. We understand the values that you, } the Oracle Preist/Monk/Servant/Bum, have brought the Oracle through our } times of growth. } } It has come to our attention that there are some officials who have } been under the mistaken impression that employees need the hassle of } being Unionized. The officials are currently being tracked down and } "reeducated," using the choicest of friendly and persuasive methods } with the minimum of bone breaking and bruising. Wild tales of how we } are burning down the homes of the organizers, or kidnapping their } children and holding them over alligator pits are simply fabrications } made by our hardworking but talent-strapped arsonists and bored } alligator pit management, trying to get a bigger budget in the next } fiscal year. } } While we here at Oracle understand the needs for employees to get } together and create new ideas for the Oracle, we do not think it is } necessary to form any sort of extracurricular activity where Oracle } management methods are discussed. A Union does not unite the common } worker, in fact, it creates an atmosphere of one-upmanship. On top of } that, you have to pay dues (which we last imagined was $123,456,789 } dollars USD a week), and they don't even give you near the amount of } satisfaction that a sweet glazed cruller gives you on "Crazy Donut } Fridayz." And when the leaders of your new union decide that not } enough people are paying them in dues, and go on strike, how will you } face your favorite goldfish? "Goldie, no special flakes for you today, } Jackie Presser has decided that making a point about 'department } safety' and the recent, but unrelated, multiple deaths of people from } poisoned postage stamps is better than your owner having wages." } } So before you take that communist pamphlet, and poison our already } disgruntled and overworked employee pool with antique Marxist comments } about the factory conditions of the 1800s, remember: Our alligators get } very hungry when the workers are not there to feed them. } } Looking forward to seeing your family at the company picnic, } } Oracle Management } "We have all the answers." } } :: } :: THIS HAS BEEN AN AUTOMATED REPLY THAT HAS KEYED ON THE WORD "UNION" } :: } :: YOU OWE THE ORACLE A COPY OF "THE MADCAP MANAGEMENT STYLE OF BOSS } :: TWEED" AND "WHO STOLE MY CHEESE" } :: --- 1197-03 -------------------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: "Alyce M. Wilson" The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > Ladies, I pray you tell me > Where a gentle maiden dwelleth, > Named Yum-Yum, the ward of Ko-Ko? And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } (Enter procession of sentient Weasels, heralding Sib-Sib, Pyth-bo } and Cassi-Dann.) } } Chorus of Weasels: } Comes a team of plucky females } Who, for an outrageous fee, } Answer letters, calls and emails, } Solving ev'ry mystery! } Do you find you are unable } To restrain your farts? } Have you broken Peter Gabriel } Into num'rous parts? } Did you meet up with the pontiff } In your underwear? } Face the facts, you'd be quite stumped if } Our three girls weren't there! } Face the facts, you'd be quite stumped if } Our three girls weren't there! } Come along, you must involve 'em, } Tell them what your problems be, } And they'll solve 'em -- how they'll solve 'em! } They'll solve 'em -- how they'll solve 'em! } For a monumental fee! } For a quite outrageous fee! } } Sib-Sib, Pyth-Bo, Cassi-Dann: } Three little maids for hire are we, } Finding out facts our destiny, } Running up bills with wanton glee -- } Three little maids for hire! } } Sib-Sib: } Nothing is e'er too much to ask! (Giggle) } } Pyth-Bo: } I'll tackle each and ev'ry task! (Giggle) } } Cassi-Dann: } 'S long as she's got her whisky flask! (Giggle) } } Sib-Sib, Pyth-Bo, Cassi-Dann: } Three little maids for hire! } } (Dancing) } Three little maids who, once we've started, } Never delay or do things half-hearted, } Till you with all of your cash have parted -- } We're never known to tire! } Three little maids for hire! } } Sib-Sib: } I'll search the phone books one and all -- } } Pyth-Bo: } I'll visit Niger and Nepal -- } } Cassi-Dann: } I'll just go shopping down the mall -- } } Sib-Sib, Pyth-Bo, Cassi-Dann: } Three little maids for hire! } } Sib-Sib: } I found your answer very soon -- } } Pyth-Bo: } I had just flown off to Rangoon -- } } Cassi-Dann: } I bought a dress that'll make you swoon -- } } Sib-Sib, Pyth-Bo: } She has some fine attire! } } Chorus of Weasels: } Three little maids for hire! } } Sib-Sib, Pyth-Bo, Cassi-Dann, and Chorus of Weasels: } Now that you've had your information, } Here is the bill for your consultation, } Hope it won't cause you consternation -- } } Sib-Sib, Pyth-Bo, Cassi-Dann: } Some customers expire! } } Sib-Sib, Pyth-Bo, Cassi-Dann, and Chorus of Weasels: } Three little maids for hire! } } (Sib-Sib presents the invoice to the Customer. Exeunt Ladies and } Weasels, with a good deal of scuffling and biting. The Customer } studies the invoice in dismay.) } } Customer: } Now I know why they say ignorance is bliss. --- 1197-04 -------------------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: Mike Nolan The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > I am at a crossroads in my career. I am currently a freelance editor > working in a somewhat full time basis for a publishing company that has > moved from small, quick, and fun to work for to slightly larger, > incredibly bogged down by meetings, and mind-numbingly, > homicidal-urge-inducing dreadful to work for on a daily basis. I see > the Web as my freedom, but I do not know where to go. I require > assistance that cannot be found within a Magic 8-ball. What shall I do > to save my sanity and find as a new career? And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } Well whatever you do, don't go into grovel-ghosting, you'd have a Hard } Time. In the meantime, here's the Top Ten things to do to liven up that } office whilst you secretly plan a coup d'etat in a small South American } dictatorship: } } 10) Call a florist and tell them your greatest love simply must have a } hundred red long stemmed roses at once, then give them your name and } office as delivery address and charge it to the company. } 9) Buy a picture frame. Leave the sample picture (the larger the } 'SAMPLE' sticker the better) in and place the frame prominently on your } desk. Carry it to meetings with you. From time to time, stroke it } lovingly. } 8) Impersonate well-known cartoon characters. All day. Every day. Do } not use your real voice or mannerisms. } 7) Sidle to meetings, the water cooler, photocopier etc. If anyone asks } why, look past their left ear and say: "Ted made me". Carry on sidling. } 6) Arrive early, leaving an alarm clock and five red candles wired } together on your desk. Leave the office, come back when everyone else } has arrived, and 'defuse' the 'bomb'. } 5) Make a pass at yourself in the bathroom mirror. The more colleagues } in there, the better. Let them see your greatness. } 4) Carry a packet of biscuits - that's cookies, you see - at all times. } When someone asks you a question, look at them thoughtfully, eat a } biscuit, and then answer as though no biscuit had occurred. } 3) Stand on your head or do complex yoga positions (practice, though, } don't injure yourself) whenever a meeting becomes too much. It's } guaranteed to lighten the mood for everyone. } 2) Email the entire organisation thanking them for their ingenuity in } coming up with a cure for smallpox/radish blight/rust. } 1) Go to a fancy dress shop. Buy a monkey costume. When it seems the } meetings, co-workers and so on are becoming too much, gradually dress } in the costume. By the time you're ready for the head, you should be } screaming: "Are you trying to make a monkey out of me? Are you? Answer } me!" Repeat as necessary. } } You owe the Oracle a cheerful can-do attitude and a better job six } weeks from now. --- 1197-05 -------------------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: Mike Nolan The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > Oracle, you that hold our interest, you whose ideas are worth > saving, you that knows all the secret Swiss Bank Account Numbers, > you that uses his capital correctly, > > Do cats have any other weapons? And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } But of course. } } Most people are familiar with the classic claws and teeth that cats } have. They also have much more...subtle weapons. } } *Cuteness } } What is a cat if it's not cute? The fastest way to disarm its human is } for a cat to give him or her a wide eyed look and a drawn out meow. If } this fails to work, it merely has to rub up against the ankles of the } target human - and nobody can resist that. } } *Purr device } } What most people understand is that cats are happy when they are } purring. This goes with the cuteness thing above, but cats also have } another subtle weapon within purring - they will purr when in pain } also. This bit of deception can bait a human, and the result isn't } pretty. } } When anything else fails, of course, the cat merely has to mope. This } will instill guilt into anyone with a good soul. } } You owe the Oracle a can of tuna. It would seem my own cat needs to be } fed. --- 1197-06 -------------------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: Ian Davis The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > Dear Auntie Ora, > > I remember reading that Apollo ordained no-one should believe > Cassandra's prophecies. How can we trust her, and yet not disobey > him? And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } Speaking purely for myself, sunshine, I wouldn't trust the kid with a } piece of string. So she's pissed Apollo off now, has she? I'm dying to } know how. Hey, Danni! DANNI! } } How many times do I have to tell you, Pyth? It's Cassie! } } Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Why's Apollo got it in for you? } } Who? } } Apollo. You know - sun god. Blond guy. Goes around on a boogie board } in 'Hercules: The Legendary Journeys'. } } Oh, HIM! That was nothing! And anyways, it wasn't-- } } --Your fault. How did I guess? C'mon, spill it. What did you do? } } Well, it was when Sibyl sent you to check out Shangri-La, to see } whether it was the happiest place on earth, remember? Only then } she had second thoughts, 'cos maybe it was the Elysian Fields } instead, so she sent me to Mount Olympus to ask. And those Greek } gods, like, they were real nice to me! I mean Zeus, he turned } himself into this *ever* so cute swan, see, and then he-- } } Cut to the chase, Danni. } } Cassie! Well, then Apollo wanted to know why we were called } 'Delphic Research', and were we trying to make out like we were } his oracle or something? And I said no way because Sibyl has been } around for simply *ages*, right, and so she must have been the } first, so sucks to his rotten oracle with knobs on and... Well, } at that point Hera said it should be decided by a contest-- } } What - you against the Oracle of Delphi? } } That's right. } } Ohhhh GHOD... } } And you know what's funny? We never even left Greece. Like, at } school they told us Delphi was in India. Shows how much those } teachers know, eh? } } What happened next? } } We all went in this cave, which was horrible and full of fumes and } smelled of rotten eggs. I guess that oracle doesn't wash much. } And then the high priest asked, "Oh great oracle of the ages, } daughter of Gaia and Typhon, queen of the past, present and } future, we bring you wondrous gifts and beg you to tell us - Who } will win the 12:10 at Sandown Park?" And then we heard this weird } woman's voice moaning and groaning in the darkness, and eventually } she says, "The race is not necessarily to the swift nor the battle } to the strong, nor chocolate brownies to the sweet-toothed, nor } ferrets to the owners of unicycles." And a lot more stuff like } that. Well, one or two of the demigods were prodding each other } in the ribs and snickering behind their hands, and you could see } Apollo wasn't any too pleased because his oracle was talking such } rubbish, and-- } } Fast forward, Cass. } } Right. Then the high priest turns to me and asks me the same } question, only missing out the bit about wondrous gifts, which } I thought was a bit stinky. So I ask who's running, and they } show me a newspaper with the starting line-up, and you know what? } There's this horse called 'Pretty In Pink'! So I say *that* one, } because you know how I like pink-- } } I'm beginning to have this feeling I don't really want to know how } this ends... } } And then Zeus announces that whatever the prophetess Cassandra } says is good enough for him, and that he's going to put his shirt } on 'Pretty In Pink' at 14 to one. And he gives me this big smile, } which is really sweet of him, only Hera looks real miffed, I don't } know why-- } } She's his wife. } } She IS??? He didn't say he was married! Oooh! } } Tantrums later. Get on with the narrative. } } Well, when Zeus said he was betting everything on 'Pretty In } Pink', all the other gods did too, even Apollo. } } And 'Pretty In Pink' finished? } } Last. } } You astonish me. } } Yeah well, I don't tell a horse how fast to run, do I? So how can } anybody say it's *my* fault? } } Gods can be so unreasonable. All the same, I don't think we'll be } referring to this case in any of our publicity material, if you don't } mind. } } Married! Huh! What a sleazeball! --- 1197-07 -------------------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: "Kirsten R. Chevalier" The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > It's a dromedary, *not* a camel! And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } Eeeewww! No wonder it didn't taste so good when I smoked it. --- 1197-08 -------------------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: "Kirsten R. Chevalier" The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > I'm hiding under this tree, trying to avoid your massive *ZOT*. Will > it protect me? And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } That depends on what sort of tree it is. } } If it's an ash tree, you'll find you've been singed. } If it's a citrus tree, your efforts will go sour. } If it's a fig tree, to me you'll be pretty much naked. } If it's a nut tree, I might find you a little hard to crack, but you'll } probably get roasted. } If it's an olive tree, your only chance is if I decide to extend you a } branch. } If it's a palm tree, I know how to hit you much like I know the back } side of my hand. } If it's a pear tree, it might take two shots. } If it's a pine tree, I suppose a falling cone might block my shot. } } But as you're under a binary tree, I'd say there's a half a chance. } } With thanks to http://www.dictionary.com/ and } http://www.igin.com/treelist.html. --- 1197-09 -------------------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: "BJ" The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > Oh Oracle Most Wise, > Your words of wisdom are like rose-petals on the Lawn of Life > > Only Wiser. > > Sybil, Pythia, Cassidy, and Steve Irwin the Australian Naturalist > > That's _four_ new in-jokes in _one_ edition of Oracularities. > > This is a flagrant violation of the Strategic In-Joke Limitation > Treaty, which sets a limit of 2 new in-jokes per Oracularity. > > By the terms of this treaty, you now have 4 days to kill-off > two of the in-jokes, either > > 1. To the tune of a Gilbert and Sullivan song. > 2. In the style of Shakespeare. > 3. In the Style of Quentin Tarantino > or > 4. In Haiku. And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } Haiku is passe', } Its prose is limited, } There is not enough } } Room for you to eas- } ily fit long words in, } Without a hyphen. } } Three young delphis accosted me, } Told me to stay here quietly, } Tied me up and gave me tea, } Three young delphis, quite rude. } } One shoved a gun against my head, } Told me to "Shush." or I'd be dead, } Passage from the bible, she then read, } Three young delphis, quite rude. } } Then to the room came that bloke Steve, } Brought in a croc with teeth that cleave, } Right about then I asked to leave, } Three young delphis, quite rude. } } He then said "You lit us stay!", } "Or ilse thir'll be hill t'pay!", } I asked him what he did say, } Three young delphis, quite rude. } } He then unleashed his pet on me, } Told me "Cripes, 'e's roight angry!", } I then tried to run and flee, } Three young delphis, quite rude. } } I then agreed they could stay here, } Steve was quite perfectly clear, } All of me left would be an ear, } Three young delphis, quite rude. } } Three young delphis! Quite rude. } } So alas, poor Supplicant, your request hath fallen upon deaf ears (but } at least they're both still attached to my head). } } You owe the Oracle a bottle of anti-crocodile cologne, and a long pole. --- 1197-10 -------------------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: Ian Davis The Internet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > The Penguin > > by Rob Flynn > and > Jeramey Crawford > > Once upon a term'nal dreary, while I hack'ed, weak and weary, > Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten code-- > While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a beeping, > As of some one gently feeping, feeping using damn talk mode. > "'Tis some hacker," I muttered, "beeping using damn talk mode-- > Only this. I hate talk mode." > > Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak semester, > And college life wrought its terror as the school year became a bore. > Eagerly I wished for privledges;--higher access I sought to borrow > For my term'nal, unceasing sorrow--sorrow for a file called core-- > For the rare and radiant files of .c the coders call the core-- > Access Denied. Chown me more. > > "Open Source," did all mutter, when, with very little flirt and > flutter, > > In there stepped a stately Penguin of the saintly days of yore. > Quite a bit obese was he; having eaten lots of fish had he, > But, by deign of Finnish programmer, he sat in the middle of my > floor-- Looking upon my dusty term'nal in the middle of my floor-- > Came, and sat, and nothing more. > > Then the tubby bird beguiling my sad code into shining, > By the free and open decorum of the message that it bore, > "Though thy term'nal be dusty and slow," he said, "Linux be not > craven!" > > And thus I installed a new OS far from the proprietary shore-- > The kernel code open but documentation lacking on this shore. > Quoth the Penguin, "pipe grep more!" > > Much I marvelled this rotund fowl to hear discourse so plainly, > Though its answer little meaning--little relevancy bore; > For we cannot help believing that no living human being > Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird in the middle of his floor-- > Bird or beast sitting in the middle of his cluttered floor, > With such instructions as "pipe grep more." > > But the Penguin, sitting lonely in that cluttered floor, spoke only > Those words, as if its soul in that instruction he did outpour. > Nothing more did he need utter; understood did I among that clutter-- > Understood his command as I could scarcely do a few moments before-- > I typed as furious as was willed me, understanding just a minute > before. > > Again the bird said "pipe grep more!" > > "Amazing!" said I, "Penguin we will conquor the world if you will! > By the Network that interconnects us--by that Finn we both adore-- > We'll take this very world by storm!" For now grasped I what he'd > meant, > > The thing I do while searching /usr/doc/* for that wond'rous lore-- > Those compendiums of plaintext documentation and descriptive lore. > Quoth the Penguin, "pipe grep more!" > > And the Penguin, never waddling, still is sitting, still is sitting > In the middle of my room and still very cluttered floor; > And his eyes have all the seeming of the free beer I am drinking > And the term'nal-light o'er him glowing throws his shadows on the > floor; > > And this OS from out the shadows that is pow'ring my term'nal on the > floor > Shall be dominating--"Pipe grep more!" And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } The "Blue Death" had long devastated the land. No pestilence had ever } been so infuriating, or so hideous. Gone were my avatars, my files-an } empty void where my harddrive was before. There were the sharp pains } in my temples, the sudden dizziness, bleeding from my knuckles where I } had punched the monitor. And the whole seizure, from spreadsheet } progress to termination, were the incidents of ten seconds. } } I had been a happy fellow. My harddrive was half-populated, } sagaciously stored memories and oft-used necessities. I could summon } to my presences a thousand and more fully-rendered avatars, knights } and dames of every century, and with these venture forth to the realm. } A strong and lofty personal firewall girdled my cable line, many had } tried to enter only to be repulsed with dizzying speed. } } It was toward the close of the fifth or sixth month of my familiarity } with my new system, while I entertained the masses in true-color 3-d, } that the Blue Death came upon me. } } It was a voluptuous scene, that 3-d party. A magnificent revel. I had } a fine eye for colors and effects, and applied them liberally. I } disregarded those with standard avatars, and personally invited to my } private room those who would appreciate my processor's abilities. } } The came the horror. At first the revelers slowed their dance, made } less merriment. Then the party fell silent. The partiers ceased to } move, and stared at me, waiting, waiting. I could only think that } someone had lagged me. } "Who dares," I typed, "who dares insult me with such a blasphemous } script?" } } I soon realized however that my hands had run ahead of my eyes for } there, on the screen before me, were not the words I had typed. The } scene was exactly as it was just moments ago, the expectant partiers } having not budged a pixel. } I fought vainly, pulling every weapon at my disposal, nothing } responded. In desperation, I enacted my final assault, my way to } determine which function had caused my system such a headache. For in } my desperation, I hit Control-Alt-Delete and there I saw, to my } horror, that which I had dreaded to see. } } And now was acknowledged the presence of the Blue Death. It came like } a thief in the night and, one by one, my system functions shut down. } The revelers would know by now what had happened, I would be } shamefaced forever. As darkness and decay settled over my hopes of } geekdom, my screen glowing blue before me, I pressed the Reset button } and sighed.