Digest of Indigestables (Part 1 of 2029)
David E Randolph
you'd rather drink lukewarm hemlock with an overripe olive than read it,
but I will delay no longer! I present to you my ten favorite indigestables
from last year (not including the baby-back ribs one, which I already posted).
That's right, ten so-called oracularities which the priests had the common
decency not to post, but which, out of sheer spite, I am inflicting upon
your costly bandwidth anyway. Some of these contain questions from me, some
I wrote the answers for, others simply generated spontaneously in my account.
Enjoy! (or don't!)
--David Randolph
P.S. I didn't put these in any special order; they may be ordered
chronologically.
------------------------------ #1-1
The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply.
Your question was:
> <ZOT!> <ZOT!> <ZOT!> The occupant crumpled into a stone on which he
> was relieving himself while on a certain Neiman-Marcus cookie
> recipe. Oh wise one, who knows how to defeat you. Wood Chuck: No! Stop!
> Don't ask him where he's from or where he's goin' Or how long will
> the winter winds be blowin' Or the chuckin' that he could Do if a
> woodchuck could chuck wood? Let me explain. When a guy acts completely
> uninterested in someone, say, hypothetically, a girl, then she tends to work
> all the more common questions that people ask me that!!! Oracle: Do
> woodchucks really woo? Wood Chuck: WHAT?!?!? What kind of Use it news or
> some crap like that.
And in response, thus spake the Oracle:
} Secret Woodchuck man!
} Secret Woodchuck man!
} Give him all your lumber
} cause a) it sorta smelled and tasted like bad spaghetti, and
} say, Lisa, did you hear something? SAYS HE
} WANTS HIS HAT. Then came unto the man
} the third servant, who said,
The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply.
} The question is:
} How many men must walk upon a road, Ed McMahon?
And in response, thus spake the Oracle:
} Ha, foolish mortal. Watch the oracle in action, and learn.
}
:-} What kind of idiotic question is this? From now, on
} I'll let you handle all my inquiries of this nature.
> #505 #505 #505 #505 #505 #505 #505 #505 #505 #505 #505 #505 #505 #...!
NFS amd:0 not responding still trying
NFS amd:0 unrecoverable packet protocol error
?Parity E@ro$#($ 24 320dkx xSDd s~~~tor not f~~nd~~~~ill -9 0^qQ:#ogoff.
This machine is Stoned. Do not turn it off until the disk light is out.
------------------------------ #1-2
The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply.
Your question was:
> Hello, I am a question virus. Propagate me with a subject of "tell me"
> and drive the next incarnation batty.
And in response, thus spake the Oracle:
} The Oracle lies alone in bed, his window shades pulled down to lessen
} the afternoon sun, his covers pulled up to his deific chin. He groans
} in misery, lets out a curse so vile that several objects in his room
} catch fire, shatter, implode, or simply run out of the room screaming. A
} light falls over his face and when he opens his eyes, he sees Apollo
} standing over him, a doctor's mirror upon his perfect brow.
} "How are you feeling?" Apollo asks.
} "Like ****, Apollo. ************* **** **** ***** in my ******* stomach!"
} An oak dresser nearby quivvers bravely, then collapses. Even the doctor
} seems to momentarily lose his practiced composure, nods to himself.
} "Yes, you caught a question virus."
} "Oh, no, not again!" mumbles the Oracle. "I thought I was vaccinated!"
} Apollo shakes his head, answers, "That was ten milennia ago, kiddo. You
} didn't follow up with a booster like you were supposed to. Well, there's
} nothing for it now but to perform internal exploration."
} "No, not that!" the Oracle screeches, but the doctor is already gone,
} fetching his golden chariot, pulled by a pair of prize horses given to
} him by Posideon. Apollo deftly guides the horses through the door of the
} Oracle's bedroom, which is strange since the Oracle's bedroom door isn't
} wide enough to admit a pair of horses, let alone a golden chariot.
} "Those horses had better not be soiling my house!" the Oracle cries out.
} Apollo ignores the Oracle's curses and cries for mercy, says to his
} starboard horse, "Okay, aim for the Oracle's left nostril. We're going
} in there." The horse turns his head and gives Apollo a look of disbelief.
} "Trust me," Apollo adds. The port horse gives its master a look that says
} it remembers how it trusted Apollo on that drunken night when he ordered
} his horses into the middle of a black hole inside a supernova. "Trust me,"
} Apollo says again, and this time it's a command. The port horse shrugs,
} horselike.
} Apollo sets a series of controls on a tiny panel in his golden vehicle
} which are so complex and sophisticated that they would make Dr. Who's TARDIS
} look like something one might might find at the bottom of a box of Trix.
} The status lights flash from red to green. A high-pitched whine, almost
} out the the range of hearing of a god, diffuses from the superheated
} electronics in his chariot. Suddenly, the chamber rumbles with a blast of
} shrieks and thin lines cross the room where low-pressure pockets of time
} and space touch nearby dimentions. Apollo cracks his whip and his horses
} leap forward, their hooves aimed directly at the Oracle's head. The Oracle
} screams despite himself, draws back as the horses seem to drain into
} microscopic funnel, winces when Apollo's whip catches the end of his nose
} before it, too, shrinks down to the size of a few molecules and follows
} the golden chariot into the Oracle's unwell body. The Oracle lets loose
} an especially unwholesome curse and a crack forms in his bedroom ceiling.
} Inside the Oracle's nasal cavity, Apollo shoots into a blood vessel leading
} toward the brain, but the red and white cells seem to be flowing unusually
} slowly. In fact, they are not flowing at all, but merely swirling randomly,
} like the flakes within a disturbed snow globe. Apollo cracks his whip and
} the horses pull the chariot toward the brain, but suddenly stop when the
} blood vessel unexpectedly ends in a cul-de-sac. "Impossible," Apollo
} mutters. With his whip, he slices open the end of the vessel and forces the
} chariot through the ragged gap. When he enters the Oracle's brain cavity,
} he gasps and pulls the reigns of his horses. "My God, it's full of stars,"
} he whispers. Then he looks more closely. "Wait a minute, those are just
} pinpricks of light! The Oracle's brain cavity is totally empty; he hasn't
} got a brain at all!" Apollo rubs his chin, perplexed. "If he hasn't a
} brain, then where does he get his wisdom? No time for that now, I'm a
} doctor, not a metaphysicsist! I have to find the virus before it
} replicates!"
} So saying, Apollo turns his chariot around and dives down toward his
} patient's stomach and emerges above a vast sea of--what? Oh, of course, of
} beer! An unholy tempest of acid rain pelts him. Exposed, his horses neigh
} angrily, but he whips them on into the center of the brewing storm, even
} as noisome smoke streams from their glistening coats. "Dive, dive, into
} the vortex!" he commands. He sticks his head to one side and catches some
} of the beer in his mouth before the chariot exits the far side of the
} stomach into the intestine, and he runs straight through a banner which
} reads: "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KING BACCHILIOUS COCHOLI MMXVII! NOTHING IS SURE BUT
} BEER AND TAXES!"
} "Wow," Apollo says, "it's the mother of all parties." Before him, lined
} along all the walls and crevices of the small intestine, he can make out
} millions of bacteria, drunk from beer and replicating furiously. Loud,
} alien music made by gas-producing musicians echos through the chamber.
} Apollo draws up his chariot along side some dancing bacteria and calls out
} to one of them, "You there! Have you seen a question virus go by here?"
} "Groovy," the bacterium tries not to fall, and nearly succeeds. "No,
} way, man, but, like, I once saw the clone of a .sig virus come through
} here. He said he was, like, looking for himself. He was way heavy, man."
} Apollo waves his hand to shut the creature up. "Who would know about a
} question virus?"
} The bacterium tries to focus, gives up. "Like, go see the King, man!
} He's, like, the wisest creature in the whole universe! He knows, like,
} EVERYTHING!" The bacterium waves his hands violently to press the point.
} "Ignorant sod!" Apollo spits out. "Forward, horses! To this self-styled
} king!"
} "Just follow the yellow s**t road!" the bacterium calls out cheerfully.
} Brilliant light pouring from his golden chariot, Apollo rides the freeway
} down the intestine, avoiding pockets of turbulent gas, but sometimes
} cracking them with his whip to amuse himself as he slides by them. Soon
} he approaches and passes over the walls of an immense city, the gate of
} which bears a sign which simply says: "Staff Only." Towering skyscrapers
} pierce the sky from below and he begins to make out the names on some
} of them: "Department of Null Questions," "Division of Woodchuck Questions,"
} "Pimple-Faced Nerdy College Student Therapy Building," "Bodily Functions."
} Apollo shakes his head in total disbelief. "No, no," he says, his eyes
} wide with shock. "Not this!"
} Upon the top of a building labelled, "Question of Life, the Universe, and
} Everything (Security Clearance Required)," Apollo makes out the form of
} a virus, writhing in terror and philisophical agony. It's the question
} virus, its tongue lolling and its eyes popping in and out of its head.
} The virus sees Apollo and cries out, "Kill me, kill me swiftly! I didn't
} want to know, I didn't want to know--this!" Nodding in sympathy, Apollo
} raises his whip and with a single crack sends the virus into vaprous
} oblivion.
} A minute later, Apollo exits the Oracle's body and stands beside the
} curse-tortured bed at normal size again.
} The Oracle smiles.
} Apollo looks into the Oracle's eyes strangely. "How do you feel?" he asks.
} The Oracle smiles broadly. "Just great!" he breathes out happily. "In
} fact," he says, "I have this massive urge to drink a mug of beer. Is that
} wierd, or what?"
} Apollo sits on the bed. "I think," he mumbles, "I'll get one, too."
------------------------------ #1-3
The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply.
Your question was:
The Usenet Oracle requires an answer to this question!
> (define Grovel
> (lambda ()
> (letrec ([Grovel (lambda () (cons 'great (Grovel)))])
> (list 'Oh (Grovel) 'Oracle))))
>
> Is wisdom recursive?
And in response, thus spake the Oracle:
} if (uHaveAPerlOfWisdom)
} {
} u(canClearlyC);
} if (u(cutItDownItsMid, like))
} anOnion = itWillBe;
} }
}
} (if (U (Clips off)) its)
} =>
} (outmost shell)
}
} aPerl(itStillWillBe,)
} /* less */ - aSingleOuterLayer && /* and */ onRecursively();
}
} 100 BUT(1) ::" ONE MUST THINK BEFORE(1) ONE PEELS,
} 110 "BECAUSE, WELL, BASIC-ALLY
}
} when.1.Rexx.the.outmost.shell ',' "there's"
}
} no: ; Re-Assembly!
}
}
} [getTheMessage: "?"];
}
} But enough of this Smalltalk.
} You owe me a carved Icon of Myself.
------------------------------ #1-4
The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply.
Your question was:
> The throbbing pulse of the drum grew louder. Aragorn held his torch
> high above his head to better see the great room, but the light did
> him little good. "Do you know the way, here, Gandalf?" he called out.
> "No," the wizard replied, "I have never been this deep into Moria."
> "I fear we may have missed the path," Aragorn waved the torch in
> all directions. "There are three exits here."
> "What is this place?" Meridoc whispered.
> Gandalf humphed in thought. "We are in a maze of twisty little
> passages, all alike. Now be silent, or else our voices may carry.
> We will take the middle passage. Come, we best not tarry here!"
> As Gandalf spoke, the sound of padded feet grew louder behind them.
> Gandalf lit his staff and ran into the middle passage, the rest of
> the party hard pressed to keep up with him.
> "Orcs!" Aragorn called from the back of the group. "Orcs are behind
> us!"
> "Then we must be faster than they!" Gandalf shouted out, and doubled
> his impossible pace. Swiftly, the party ran along the twisted hallways,
> never running a straight line more than a few lengths, but always headed
> downwards, closer to the heart of the labyrinth. Gandalf's light seemed
> to lose its strength the further he pressed and his face grew grayer as
> it dimmed.
> Gandalf abruptly halted and hurriedly looked about him. "This is not
> where I wanted to be at all! But at least I know where I am."
> Frodo stepped beside him and gasped at the sight of the black chasm
> before them, spanned only by a narrow stone bridge. Gimli stopped
> as well and sighed. "The bridge of Khazad-Dum. Once this was a place
> of wonder and joy, a bridge thought impossible to build, a jewel among
> our creations. Now it is this, a darkness among the shadows." Having
> spoken, Gimli cast his hood over his face and said no more.
> "We must waste no time," Gandalf urged. "In haste! Let us cross the
> bridge while we are able!" So saying, the wizard pushed the party
> forward toward the bridge and took the rear. One by one, they crossed
> the narrow path and waited on the other side for Gandalf. As he strode
> up the stone arch, a darkness seemed to grow about him, curling and
> grasping, until Gandalf cried out and waved his staff in all directions.
> "Face me!" he cried, but his voice seemed dull and distant to the others.
> Suddenly, the darkness congealed at the top of archway, and Aragorn
> groaned. "It is as I feared," he muttered, "it has made its home here."
> He looked towards the frightened hobbits and told them what it was.
> "It is the Balrog, the Anti-Oracle. As the Oracle lives to give
> wisdom and answer questions, so the Balrog exists to absorb wisdom by
> asking questions."
> The orcish drums stopped beating and the Balrog laughed hideously
> before the grey wizard. "If a tree falls in the forest and no one
> hears it, does it make a sound?" the Balrog screached. Gandalf
> cried out and fell to his knees. "How much wood could a wood chuck
> chuck?" The Balrog shouted mockingly.
> "No, no!" Frodo sobbed.
> "?" The Balrog boomed down at the shaking wizard.
> "The null question! The null question!" Legolas moaned and dropped his
> quiver in despair. "We are lost! How can we escape this terror?"
And in response, thus spake the Oracle:
} "Arghhh!" winced the Balrog.
} "Look! That wounded expression! What could have caused it?"
} asked Aragorn.
} The Balrog roared with pain.
} "Quickly - we must give an answer," shouted Frodo.
} Gandolf gasping for breath tried and failed to say something.
} "Yes," said Gimli, "the tree makes a sound!"
} The Balrog seemed to gain strength. "Why ask why?" he screamed
} at Galdalf, who grasped at his chest as if his heart were bursting.
} "How many Oracles does it take to screw in a light bulb?" he continued.
} He followed up with another null question: "??" A double null.
} Gandalf collapsed mumbling.
} "Try bud dry!" yelled Frodo.
} The Balrog began to grow.
} "Seven!"" shouted Gimli, "One to screw Lisa and... uh..."
} The Balrog grinned, seething with power.
} "Wait," interrupted Meridoc, "Aragorn was right. We must figure
} out why the Balrog reacted that way. Does anyone have any ideas?"
} The Balrog roared in anguish, and seemed to shrink in size again.
} "There, it happened again," Frodo answered. "It must be something
} we are saying."
} Gandalf tried again to speak, but suceeded only in drooling. The
} Balrog took out a worn leather-bound book and opened it. He recited:
} "How do you kill a elephant? How do you kill a blue elephant? Why
} do elephants have such big feet?"
} Gandalf lost consciousness.
} "What can it be?" asked Aragorn
} The Balrog screamed.
} "I don't know! It must be something. Think!" said Meridoc.
} They began to pray to the Oracle for help.
} "The Oracle will not help you," said the Balrog, "I guarantee it."
} Having temporarily dispensed with Gandalf, the Balrog turned to
} the remainder of the group and turned to the next page in the book.
} He led with a "?" and continued with "How do you make an elephant
} float?" They were all thrown against a wall. The sheer power was
} incredible.
} "Gandalf is indeed a mighty wizard. How else could he have
} withstood such an attack?"
} The Balrog recoiled, as if he had been hit.
} "Why isn't the Oracle helping us?"
} The Balrog dropped his book. Aragorn quickly kicked it away from
} the Balrog's reach.
} "Why are you doing this?" shouted Frodo.
} The Balrog dropped to one knee, gasping.
} "Questions!" shouted Gimli!
} The Balrog got up, strengthened.
} "Questions?" asked Meridoc.
} The Balrog fell again.
} All of a sudden, they understood Gimli's message.
} "What is Dan Quayles IQ?" asked Frodo at the Balrog. The Balrog
} began to wail.
} Aragorn picked up the book, and opened it. He started to read:
} "Why do elephants have such big trunks?" The Balrog fell to the
} ground, and started crawling away. "Why are elephants so wrinked?"
} The Balrog gasped, making his way to the edge of the chasm. "Why
} do elephants hate Tarzan?"
} With the last remained of his strength, the Balrog pushed himself
} over the edge of the precipice, and fell. They looked into the chasm
} and saw a small shape shrink to a point, and disappear.
} Gandalf moaned, and they all turned and ran to him.
} "Will he be alright?" asked Gimli.
} "Yes," said a voice behind them. They turned and faced the great
} one - the Oracle. "I am sorry I couldn't help you, but as Gandalf tried
} to tell you, the Balrog is the anti-Oracle, who absorbs wisdom by
} asking questions. The only way to combat him, is to ask questions
} of him, and drain his power away. However, for me to have given
} you this answer would have been to give the Balrog an infusion of
} Oracular wisdom. He would have destroyed you utterly. Your only
} chance was to figure it out on your own. Luckily, you were able
} to do it, Meridoc."
} Gandalf by now was able to rise, and greeted his old friend, the
} Oracle.
} "Is the Balrog dead, then?" asked Frodo.
} "No," said the Oracle. "He is the yin, to my yang, the hole to my
} donut, the positron to my electron. He can not die, as long as I exist.
} But you are safe, for now. He will need time to recover."
} The Oracle turned to Meridoc and said "you are very wise. I would
} like to offer you a position in my Priesthood."
} The group gasped.
} "I would be honored, oh great Oracle," said Meridoc. "I accept."
} "Very well," said the Oracle, "You are SPIT - a senior priest-in-
} training." He turned to the others and continued "As for you..."
} They grinned trembled with anticipation.
} "... you owe the Oracle the shield of an orc, a hand carved ivory
} walking staff, a ring of invisibility..."
To be continued in part 2...