The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question
was:
O great Oracle, overseer of all things, both foreign and
domestic, please help me. I have been arguing with a
friend over the subject of cause and effect in
time-travel. He says if you go back in time and shoot
your father, you will die. I say that you will still be
alive, only much slower and have the word 'Bob' attached
to the end of your first name. Please tell me which of
us is right.
And in response, thus spake the Oracle:
Lightening crashes in through the dirty windows of a
musty laboratory. Thunder echoes from the damp stone
walls, mixed with occasional maniacal laughter from a
figure crouched in the corner. The spidery fingers of
the Oracle dance over a wall size control panel, fine
tuning the settings on the bulky machinery that fills the
room. In between his hysteric outbursts of laughter,
snatches of his incessant mutterings can be made out...
"...just because I'm supposed to know everything...
I'm hungry dammit... f***ing wise-ass supplicants think
they can stump me with this damn father-son paradox ...
I should be in bed with Lisa... well, we're going to find
out once and for all!"
With this last utterance, the Oracle leans over and
throws a giant scissor switch set into the wall. A
giant, scrolling LED display begins to count down...
"30,29,28...."
The Oracle shuffles towards the center of the room,
opens a small door in a chamber that resembles a
locomotive boiler, and climbs in.
"20,19,18... Dow Jones closed at 1725... IBM Stock
falls 3.25 points... 15,14,13..."
The Oracle turns, and sits on a small wooden plank
bolted to the chamber wall. He glances nervously through
the small glass window in the door. A tiny drop of sweat
rolls off his brow and splashes silently on the iron
floor.
"4,3... Maple Leafs: 1 Kings: 3 ... 2,1... ZERO"
In a blinding flash of light, the assembly occupying
the floor of the room dissappears. The control console
goes dark except for a small readout flashing quietly in
the center of wall:
"Destination: IUVAX.CS.INDIANA.EDU Date: May 40,
1985 02:25"
{Fade out and back in, revealing a dusty computer room
with a single occupant}
The quiet tapping of computer keys drift across the
room. Suddenly the room goes dark and then lights back
up again as lightning flashes criss-cross the ceiling.
As the lightening fades, and the pale glow of the
flourescent lights blink back on, we see a new figure
standing in the room. This new person, the Oracle, walks
slowly to the man crouched at the computer terminal...
"Steve Kinzler?"
The man at the keyboard looks up, "Yeah, Where's my
pizza?"
With a deft movement, the Oracle reaches into his
lab coat and removes a bulky object. Suddenly, Mr.
Kinzler finds himself looking down the barrel of a huge
handgun, the laser sight glowing brightly in his left
eye.
Mr. Kinzler, panicking, starts to shuffle his chair
backwards, "Hey, hey, hey! No reason to get upset. I'll
tip you this time, honest!"
The Oracle, holding the gun, mutters quietly,
"Goodbye father..."
...and pulls the trigger
........................(blip).........................
SYSTEM ERROR%% ZOMBIE PROCESS CREATED BY UNRECOGNIZED
USER SYSTEM ERROR%% SOURCE ACCOUNT: BILLY-BOB KINZLER
REBOOTING...