Three and three and three
Apr. 1st, 2009 12:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mamagotchaInspired by this fabulous sculpture, I'm jumping on the "Nine Things About Oracles" bandwagon.
They are always women, of course, unless they decide to dab on an extra Y chromosome that morning just for giggles.
Oracles live on high mountaintops, windy eyries, sparsely landscaped with rare aromatics and thousand-year-old bonsai... except for the ones that moved downtown for the hip-hop scene and couldn't keep a houseplant alive for ten minutes.
The excrement of an oracle does not offend. In fact, its aroma resembles peach blossom honey on a slightly humid day. Unless it was 2-4-1 Tacos down at the cantina last night... and now you know why the landscape is sparse.
Oracles are an Earthly phenomenon, a mutant produced of long-ago wild parties where a certain adult recreational substance was freely distributed and certain inhibitions were unwisely lowered. They do, however, prefer to vacation in places where they are less likely to be recognized (a perfectly understandable desire... who wants to work off-duty?), and that naturally includes other worlds.
Oracles work alone, despite those unfortunate little typos in the Bible. Once in a great while, though, they'd consult Molly Ivins on a particularly thorny issue.
Without exception, they have fabulous hair.
Oracles are generally good tippers, except for the ones who aren't. They vividly remember their early priestess days and how badly their feet used to hurt.
They don't delight in twisting your own words to provoke your downfall. Okay, that's a bit of a distortion promoted by the Oracular Tourism Association. It does amuse them, sometimes, but you can't really blame them for capitalizing on our own foolish propensity to see what we want to see. That's like being mad at the sunshine for your miserably blistered shoulders.
The Tunguska Event was, in actuality, the result of a tiff that arose when an oracle and her long-lost cousin, a sphinx, finally met for tea. The subsequent Q-and-A session escalated to a catfight of spectacular proportion, and many innocents were unfortunately caught in the blast. The eternal restraining orders filed from both sides have since been respected, to all appearances and to our great relief.
They are always women, of course, unless they decide to dab on an extra Y chromosome that morning just for giggles.
Oracles live on high mountaintops, windy eyries, sparsely landscaped with rare aromatics and thousand-year-old bonsai... except for the ones that moved downtown for the hip-hop scene and couldn't keep a houseplant alive for ten minutes.
The excrement of an oracle does not offend. In fact, its aroma resembles peach blossom honey on a slightly humid day. Unless it was 2-4-1 Tacos down at the cantina last night... and now you know why the landscape is sparse.
Oracles are an Earthly phenomenon, a mutant produced of long-ago wild parties where a certain adult recreational substance was freely distributed and certain inhibitions were unwisely lowered. They do, however, prefer to vacation in places where they are less likely to be recognized (a perfectly understandable desire... who wants to work off-duty?), and that naturally includes other worlds.
Oracles work alone, despite those unfortunate little typos in the Bible. Once in a great while, though, they'd consult Molly Ivins on a particularly thorny issue.
Without exception, they have fabulous hair.
Oracles are generally good tippers, except for the ones who aren't. They vividly remember their early priestess days and how badly their feet used to hurt.
They don't delight in twisting your own words to provoke your downfall. Okay, that's a bit of a distortion promoted by the Oracular Tourism Association. It does amuse them, sometimes, but you can't really blame them for capitalizing on our own foolish propensity to see what we want to see. That's like being mad at the sunshine for your miserably blistered shoulders.
The Tunguska Event was, in actuality, the result of a tiff that arose when an oracle and her long-lost cousin, a sphinx, finally met for tea. The subsequent Q-and-A session escalated to a catfight of spectacular proportion, and many innocents were unfortunately caught in the blast. The eternal restraining orders filed from both sides have since been respected, to all appearances and to our great relief.