From oracle-request Fri Aug 13 00:10:43 1993 Received: by moose.cs.indiana.edu (5.65c/9.4jsm) id AA18362; Fri, 13 Aug 1993 00:10:43 -0500 Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1993 00:10:43 -0500 From: To: oracle-list Subject: Usenet Oracularities #582 Reply-To: oracle-vote X-Face: #uz~Ma5G?lX"lQv,9/$d0hEy7pk]l$U^|3Otd8>?b"!\/AE_F0Lm!['3"[}DQFw9 qxsx)mp$|3:}1pa:lK6H"H8TH+;E(w1r09e:3vpnx4zyC.v?+v%088"=)bs-,Q[: c2NWk',v>VQ^Hhf_zG5Okg;[vkGO%8`7T*XW0SepJNfCbVa",Dmvk-C/K|-uX*!e uK1Yc!-``R-$q(;"a@3 sgw_x[EK!Z)HJ~yxbd+mg{krWs0NA!1h/aXR X-Planation: X-Face can be viewed with cs.indiana.edu:/pub/faces. === 582 ================================================================== Title: Usenet Oracularities #582 Compiled-By: "Steve Kinzler" Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1993 00:10:43 -0500 To find out all about the Usenet Oracle, including how to participate, send mail to oracle@cs.indiana.edu with the word "help" in the subject line. 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: 582 2 1 3 4 3 5 3 3 4 1 577 52 votes 2dfe8 1dif5 8di94 3eo92 8dfa6 clc70 b8dc8 5gk83 4ik37 3bke4 577 2.9 mean 3.2 3.2 2.8 2.9 2.9 2.3 3.0 2.8 2.8 3.1 --- 582-01 --------------------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: Ian Davis The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > Dear Oracle, > where does snow go when it melts? And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } An interesting question that taxes the limits of my experience. From my } seat in the Great Chamber of the Oracle, I cannot see the snow outside. } But I do see the snow that is tracked all over my chamber floor by } Disciples that do not wipe their feet and I ask that you shake your } boots off before you come back to ask another question. Furthermore, } when I wish to go on vacation, I build myself a SnowOracle at my throne } and the Disciples are often confused until the point when the false } Oracle melts... } } But I jump ahead of myself. I little about the process and cycle of } snow to water. } } Snow and Ice are two similar things, for they are made of frozen water } that have precipitated at cold temperatures. Except when you are hit } with a snowball it doesn't put you in the hospital. The water for both } snow and ice evaporated from just about anywhere in the world, for } water just does that. That's why it is so muggy these days. } } The snow itself falls on the mountains and provides a nice scene to } behold on Mount Olympus, so my Disciples tell me. According to the } heretical advertisers, the snow that melts winds up in various beers } and mountain spring water products, but I tell you now that this is an } absolute falsehood. American beer would not taste as bad if it truly } did. } } My answer is this: humans are 90% water. Snow is 100% water. When 10% } of the water in snow evaporates, it becomes human and walks off. At } that point, the snow can go wherever the human wants to go. } } I hope I have answered your question, now bring me some cheese fries. --- 582-02 --------------------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: John.McCartney@EBay.Sun.COM ( The Lion of Symmetry ) The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > Do you keep Steve Kinzler's brain in a small jar on your desk? And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } Oh, heavens no! Steve Kinzler keeps his brain in a small jar on his } desk. I've seen it. Very pretty paper weight it makes. You *do* have } to look very closely to see it, though. } } [ Actually, I keep it in a plastic skull on my shelf. You have to } peer closely to see it through the eye sockets. -sk ] --- 582-03 --------------------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: John.McCartney@EBay.Sun.COM ( The Lion of Symmetry ) The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > It was a dark room. > > He sat crouched over the keyboard, his body a shilouette against > the eerie amber glow of his monitor. Around him disks whirred, and > he smiled. > > The old vax in the corner spontaneously rebooted for the 476th time. > > Soon it would be done. > > Yes, it had taken him a long time, but it would be worth it. All > those months of collecting questions designed to turn the mind to > cheese - but now the time was near. > > Several years ago he mailed one of those questions to the Oracle, > just out of curiosity. It caused havoc when he first unleashed it, > and it was still doing its job. "Woodchucks!", he mouthed silently, > savouring the memory. > > But that was just a taste of what was to come! Thousands more > questions awaited - and soon they too would have the same effect. > > He glanced at another screen - five minutes to go. > > The idea came to him one night while he was reading > alt.binaries.pictures.misc - all he had to do was flood the oracle > with meaningless questions - questions so bad that the poor > incarnations could never produce an even mildly-humo(u)rous reply > - and his auto-answer program was ready to deal with the real > questions he'd get in return - it could produce replies so dull > that readers would complain, and never bother with the oracle again. > > Soon there would be no oracle. > > And then it would be all his. > > He trembled in anticipation as he quickly checked the messages > which would eventually propel him to net.stardom - > > Control: rmgroup rec.humor.oracle > > Control: newgroup rec.omniscience moderated > > He glanced again at the other screen - > > Two minutes. > > He looked again at the first of the many files that in a few minutes > would begin the assault on the so-called oracle - > > > moo > > He grinned. Not one single question had a point to it - never mind > a grovel! > > And - > > > > > Yes, he liked that one a lot. > > And - > > > :wq! > > - It may have been an accident, but it had a lot going for it, he > thought. > > And - > > > chuck wood would could huck mush cook if a cook mush wook muck chuck? > > He rolled his head back and laughed manically - wait till they get > *that* one ! > > One. > > The terminal beeped, just as the vax in the corner rebooted it self yet > again. > > He stopped. Now it was time. He wiped his hand against his forehead, > and sat bolt-upright, hands resting on the keyboard. And then, like > a great organist, he began to type frantically, humming louder and > louder, typing faster and faster, fingers a-blur, with no sound > but that of the keys, clicking like a tap-dancer on speed. His eyes > scanned the screen, his fingers whirred, his mind locked in > concentration, humming, typing, thinking - > > He stopped. He raised his right arm, and held his index finger over > the return key.... > > ... grinned ... > > ...and struck it. And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } On the other side of the Universe, the Oracle sat meditating. It } really liked this ZenMOO thing It had on one of Its mental } pseudo-terminals. It has been idle for 47 days while Its Preisthood } answers questions for It. They would not disturb the Oracle unless a } very Unusual Question was asked. The Oracle smiled inwardly. } } On another pseudo-terminal, the Oracle incremented the Sacred } Accumulator to 478. It laughed to Itself as It thought about that } mystery VAX out there somewhere rebooting itself into oblivion. And } the Oracle was in control of it. } } Suddenly, alarms went off inside the Oracle's mind! One of the Preists } had sent a cry of help to the Oracle. Somebody was sending in } questions designed to turn the brains of the Preists into something } resembling an all-vegetable beef substitute! The question read: } } > moo } } Oh, the humanity! Who could be doing such an Evil thing? Another } alarm went off. And another. And another! The Oracle's Preists were } getting incomprehensible questions like } } > } } and } } > :wq! } } Then the Oracle saw who was doing this. They left their tell-tale } signature in one of the questions: } } > chuck wood would could huck mush cook if a cook mush wook muck chuck? } } It can't be! It's the Woodchuck Supplicant again! The Oracle could } feel the Preists screaming and sent soothing thoughts out to them. The } Oracle would not let this happen to Its Preists. It incremented the } Accumulator while It thought. } } The Oracle knew it must use the Zot once again. Zot v2.0 had proven } itself unstoppable, but it was a devastating weapon. The Oracle } thought about the consequences. Would the Supplicants rebel? Would } they loose their faith in the Oracle? Are any of the Supplicants } scum-sucking, narrow-minded, right-wing, Right-to-Lifers? } } "Nah," thought the Oracle. "Who cares. I'll just fry the sucker." } The Oracle didn't want any right-wing Supplicants anyhow. And It knew } that they were all getting tired of the lame woodchuck questions. The } Oracle brought up the XZot application on one of Its virtual } pseudo-terminals. In the "Target" box, the Oracle put, "Woodchuck } Supplicant." Its finger hovered over the OK button. The Oracle } hesitated. Just for good measure, the Oracle incremented the Sacred } Accumulator then clicked the button. } } On the other side of the Universe, the Woodchuck Supplicant was sitting } back in his chair. Satisfied with the fury he had unleashed, he was } now enjoying a kippered beef and peanut butter sandwich on toasted } pumpernickel. } } "So the Germans put cocoa in pumernickel," thought the Woodchuck } Supplicant. "They're crazy! I knew I liked them for some reason." } } Just then, the old VAX rebooted spontaneously for the 480th time. The } Supplicant laughed maniacally. He leaned towards his terminal and } checked his mail. He had a message from the Usenet Oracle. But it } can't be! He designed those questions to turn their minds to mush. } The Oracular Preisthood should not be able to respond. He had to look } at this message. His finger touched the Return key, pressing it } downwards and as the contacts inside the keyboard touched, there was a } blinding flash of light that came from nowhere and everywhere at the } same time. And there was a deafening noise that sounded like a cannon. } No, it sounded like a thunderclap. No, it sounded like... } ## } ############# ## } # #### # ## } ## ### # ## } # ### ## ## } #### #### ###### ## } #### ## ### ####### ## } ### ### ### ## ## } ### ## ## ## ## } #### ## ## ## ## } #### ## ## ## # } ### ## ## ## # } ### # ## ## ## } #### ## ### ## ## # } #### ## ### ## ### # ## } ############## ###### #### ## } } And the Woodchuck Supplicant ceased to exist. The voice of the Oracle } could be heard throughout the lands. And it said, "The Oracle has } decreed that there shall be no more woodchuck questions! Supplicants } who ask questions about woodchucks shall receive the Zot immediately!" } } And so it was. All the Supplicants were happy except for those who } wanted to ask woodchuck questions and those who were Right-to-Lifers. } All of those people left the Holy Temple of rec.humor.oracle and joined } the alt.bitch.bitch.bitch cult. } } And the Oracle was happy, too. He connected once again to ZenMOO and } smiled inwardly. Thinking peaceful thoughts, the Oracle decides that } the old VAX has suffered enough and rewrites the Program of the Sacred } Acuumulator so that it will reboot a DEC workstation instead. "What } exactly _IS_ ULTRIX," ponders the Oracle. } } Off in the back corner of a dark room, the old VAX comes up. Its } console says, "Login:" --- 582-04 --------------------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: Ian Davis The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > HELP! I keep getting these stupid questions which treat me as if I'm > some sort of omniscient being. Your last response to this entreaty > wasn't very helpful, as I hadn't even SENT any questions. Please help. > > P. S.: My friends Orhan Acel and Oscar Ravle are also having the same > sort of problems. What can we do? > > O. Robert Able =========================================== > orable@cs.indiana.edu + If you're reading this, you spend too + > Freshman, + much time looking at .sigs + > University of Indiana =========================================== And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } You think YOU guys have problems... } } -- } Steve Kunzler Director, Student Psychological Services } kunzler@moose.cs.indiana.edu "Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar!" } No, I am NOT Steve Kinzler!!! Freud ... or was it Groucho? --- 582-05 --------------------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: David Sewell The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > Oh mighty and all-knowing Oracle, in the song 'The Joker', Steve Miller > wrote: > > 'Some people call me the space cowboy. > Yea... > Some call me the gangster of love. > Some people call me Maurice. > Cause I speak of the pompotous of love.' > > I checked the liner notes and 'pompotous' is really what he wrote and > sang. Thus my question: > > "What the heck does 'pompotous' mean?" And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } pompotous /pum-pot'-es/ n. 1. A worm of the genus Pompotidae, } found in Western Guinea and known to the be the sole source of } sustenance of Herista veritos, the Giant Lava Mole. 2. Similar } to an impetus, something which prompts action, but caused by } chemicals produced by the body and/or microorganisms within it. } } James Joyce used the word Pompotous, albeit in a } corrupted form, in 'Ulysses': } '...and he felt pompotously angry, and struck out at the rock and } at the road until he felt better...' } } Therefore, the pompotous of love is the chemicals produced by the } body which cause feelings of love and/or lust between two people. } } Alternatively, Mr. Miller may have fallen in love with Guinean worms. --- 582-06 --------------------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: forbes@ihlpf.att.com The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > O Great Oracle, whose legs are long enough to reach the ground but > whose nose isn't long enough to keep a pair of glasses from slipping, I > have an important question to ask you. > > I cannot make vegetable soup right. It usually ends up tasting awful or > killing a relative. I even put a watermelon in it once before I > realized that it was a fruit. What are the right vegetables to put in > vegetable soup? And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } Vegetable soup? You're asking me, the Oracle, about VEGETABLE SOUP? } Listen, mac, what kind of a wimp do you think I am? I never eat } VEGETABLE soup! When I eat soup I eat manly soup! With ground beef! } Uncooked! and raw lentils, and lots of salt, and marrow from pork } neckbones soaked for hours and hours, and a can or two of beer for } good measure! Then maybe, just maybe, I'll put in a cut up carrot for } a vegetable. But only when there's already plenty of MEAT! } } If you want a good manly MEAT SOUP recipe, please supplicate me for } it! --- 582-07 --------------------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: jgm@cs.brown.edu (Jonathan Monsarrat) The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > O Wise one who pelts us with the shrapnel of wisdom, whose knowledge > of the martial arts makes Chuck Norris look like a weenie pacifist, > > The other day, a friend of mine was robbed at fistpoint. What could > I do in the same position to keep from getting robbed? How could I > disarm my foe without making his fist go off? And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } O insignificant supplicant, there are many paths to enlightenment } you may blunder, stumble, and veer down, but you are off to a most } inauspicious start. To begin simply: } } 1) Travel naked. You will _evidently_ have nothing to steal, } and only the most desperate of muggers is willing to perform } a body cavity search on mere speculation. If, on the other } hand, your robber is deeply twisted and very lonely, show } him kindness, and he will be enriched. } } 2) Travel poor. In colder climes, nudity has unfortunate side } effects, not the least of which is chapping. If your } assailant is so needy that he requires your clothing, give it } to him that he may know kindness and warmth. The infestations } of vermin will also become his problem. } } 3) Travel erratically. Lurch, twitch, babble insensibly, shriek } like the demons of Hell are loose in your knickers. "Aieee } they're HUGE and GETTTEMOFFME!!! Lizards! Bugs! URGGGGLe } WoooooEEEE Nelson hosing down the BASTIGES! Alien BASTIGES! } It's that simple! Garfle! Ni belquont delberpho; Wiphneyal!!" } You will provide entertainment for those around you, and may } suggest new schools of thought, lyrics, literature. } } 4a) Travel armed, defensively. There are many, many quality } discount armored vehicles on the international market as a } by-product of the end of the cold war. It is a buyers market. } Most of them get terrible mileage, but you'll travel secure. } } 4b) Travel armed, offensively. Among the many important areas } to consider here are: projectiles, sharpened implements, } fragmentation devices, corrosive chemicals, biological } hazards, vicious animals, bludgeons, sarcasm, derision, fire, } and sex. You may combine many of these in innovative ways - } you may even become famous and earn a tidy profit, which no } one would DARE extort from you. But this path does not lead } to wisdom, compassion, nor enlightenment. It is, however, } both risky and a hell of a lot of fun. } } 5) Travel armed, omnipotently. You owe the oracle your wallet. --- 582-08 --------------------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: asbestos@nwu.edu (Michael A. Atkinson) The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > So Orrie old chum, what this "Bcc" business in the headers of my > document. And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } "Bcc" stands for Blind Carbon Copy. But that doesn't tell you much. } Sit back and learn a bit of Net lore. } } Back in the ancient, cloudy, misty days of the ancestors of the } Internet, back around 1979, an old, worn-out blues musician used to } warm his tired bones in the sun on Sproul Plaza at the University of } California, Berkeley, from time to time putting his old harmonica to } his mouth and playing a riff or two, and now and then saying "God } bless you" to some kind soul who had thrown a coin in his battered old } derby. } } Come December it grew cold, even in California, and the venerable } blues man began looking for a building he could doze in without being } thrown out. Eventually he discovered the Computer Center, an ideal } place because in those glorious days the only people using it were } True Hackers who worked at night and slept during the day, mostly face } down alongside their keyboards. Once our protagonist had rescued an } old Cal sweatshirt from a trash can and begun wearing it while he } napped at a terminal station, no one questioned his right to be there. } } This old blues man, of course, was none other than Blind Carbon Copy. } } He had picked up the majority of his nickname back in the '20s, when } as a boy he would sneak into the honky-tonks and listen to the sweet } Delta blues he heard there, then sneak back home and practice what } he'd learned. One night when a young Al Jolson was performing, Bcc } was so caught up in the music that he forgot to wait until he was home } to practice, and when Al and the boys came out the stage door they } found a young boy in the alley singing his heart out in a perfect } imitation of the Master. "Al, that boy just a carbon copy of you," } the bass man said, and the name stuck. } } Now Blind Carbon Copy wasn't blind, but did you ever hear of a Delta } blues man who wasn't nicknamed Blind something? } } --Well, after a few days of napping in the Berkeley lab Bcc got } curious about what all those red-eyed young-'uns was doing there, and } he started moving from monitor to monitor and reading over people's } shoulders. He couldn't make much out of FORTRAN or C code, but every } now and then he'd come upon someone reading his e-mail, and he'd read } the message, and make a song out of it if he could, walking off into } the center of the room and softly accompanying himself on his blues } harp: } } I've got a na-aasty bug, an' I'm feelin' mighty blue } } I said mah code's got a big bug, makes me feel so goddam blue } } Mah core's gone an' dumped me, said mah programmin' days was } through! } } His lyrics eventually worked their way into the bleary consciousnesses } of the Berkeley hackers. Dumbfounded at first, they quickly warmed to } the idea of improvisational blues e-mail, and pretty soon got in the } habit of calling Blind Carbon Copy over--when he was awake, of } course--when they had received a particularly promising message that } they wanted him to render. Some of the more musical of the group got } Bcc to teach them how to sing the blues too, and began doing their own } riffs when Bcc was asleep or away. } } Well, the Berkeley group split up, as all things will; Bcc went back } to Louisiana to live with his daughter's family, the hackers } graduated, or got jobs, or became bums. But whenever one of them sent } e-mail to someone working with one of the old crowd, they'd attach a } header reading, let's say, "Blind Carbon Copy: William Joy", to } indicate that the recipient should call Bill Joy over to do the blues } on the message. } } Before long the header was shortened to the standard "Bcc" in Berkeley } sendmail. But the tradition lives on. Mostly nowadays the Bcc } heading is just a ritual gesture, and few are the companies and } schools where people know enough Net history to call for one of their } colleagues to come sing their e-mail when they have a Bcc line. But } now you know, and you know what to do, and remember, above all, that } even if you get funny looks when someone's reading over your shoulder } and laying down that e-mail wail, there's an old Delta blues man, } lying in a bed in an old-folks home in Baton Rouge now, who hears and } is blessed every time you sing them. } } Blind Carbon Copy--part of your Internet heritage! } } (This Oracularity sponsored by the Internet Cultural Task Force, the } Corporation for Public Broadcasting, and the Louisiana Office of } Tourism.) --- 582-09 --------------------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: Todd Radel The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > What would happen if, god forbid, Beavis and Butt-Head became an > incarnation of You? And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } Heh HEh. Don't forget to wash your pe**s. } Heh Heh. } } Heh, Heh, he said pe**s!! } Heh HEh. Pe**S. } Pe**S. Pe**S. Pe**S. } heh HEh. } } Heh heh. } } Heh Heh. YOU owe the Oracle an M-80 and a frog. Heh Heh. --- 582-10 --------------------------------------------------------------- Selected-By: Mark McCafferty The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was: > Oracle Most Wise, whose triangles always sum to *at least* 180 degrees, > please answer my humble query: > > Which version of Euclid's fifth proposition is your favourite? > > Sincerely, > > A. M. Junkie And in response, thus spake the Oracle: } I'm rather partial to the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle version of } Euclid's 5th postulate: } } Given a line and a point not on a line, the odds are pretty good you } won't know the momentum of the point real well, so you may or may not } be able to run another line through the point (oh great; now you don't } know the momentum of the point AT ALL) that is parallel to the first } line (but then you don't know its momentum either; what a mess!), at } least not to within Planck's constant. } } Then there's the version based on Ian Malcolm's non-explanation of } chaos theory in Jurassic Park: } } Given a line and -- are you following me so far? -- a point -- you } know what a point is, right? How about a strange attractor? A } fractal dimension? Want some more buzz words that sound intelligent? } -- not on a line, well, give me your hand. Soft. Very good. Anyway, } we have this line, see, and a point that -- now here's the tricky part } the point is not on the line, not at all; not even all that close, } really, but I'm sure someone as attractive as you knows all about that } -- sorry for the pun -- my point is -- sorry about that pun, too -- my } point is that mathematics is chaotic so mankind shouldn't be messing } around with it unless you can get at least a best seller and a movie } version with a $200 million gross out of it. See what I mean? } } Of course, some people enjoy the Pythonesque version: } } Now look, my good man, I took this line and this point, like you so } callously recommended, and I passed another line through the point, } -- not on the first line, and now that line is dead! It's deceased! } It's defunct! It's met its Maker! It's shuffled off it's mortal coil } and joined the choir invisible! This is an ex-line! } } How about the Star Trek version? } } Kirk: Spock, what do your sensors tell you about this region of space? } Have we entered (insert overly dramatic gesture here) a *parallel* } universe? } } Spock: Captain, by definition, that is impossible. Parallel } universes, like parallel lines, cannot intersect. } } Bones: Why you inhuman, pointy-eared, green blooded Vulcan! This is } television! Parallel universes intersect all the time in television! } } Worf: That's true. Remember when the Enterprise C came through that } rift in space ... } } Kirk: A Klingon! Phasers on Once_Over_Lightly! Fire! } } Spock: Klingon, your appearance here is illogical. } } Q: Especially since he wasn't even in the "Yesterday's Enterprise" } episode. But you poor, pathetic humans wouldn't know about that, } would you? } } Kirk: (puffs up his chest in a manly fashion) Hey, what are you doing } on my ship? } } Q: I'm waiting for someone to make an actual statement, so I can show } how omnipotent I am by violating it. I should have known you would } all be so boring in the meantime. } } Kirk: Scotty, get us out of here! } } Scotty: But Captain, I canna change the laws of physics! I've got to } have thirty minutes, minus commercials! } } Kirk: Scotty-- } } Uhura: Captain, I'm not frightened, but if I don't act scared I don't } get any lines. } } Oracle: (materializes on the bridge) All right, everybody out! I've } had more than enough of this. This answer has gotten entirely too } silly. You're all cancelled. Now get out! } } (various grumbles are heard as the actors leave the set) } } Well, supplicant, there's your answer, sort of. Anyway, you owe the } Oracle pictures of Euclid, Gauss, Bolyai, and Lobachevsky, all } spinning in their graves.