(3:30 pm Nov 24, 2005)
Tuple. Row. Table. Relation. Record. Observation. Immutable. Finite. If 'twere infinite 'twould be a family. Python. SQL. Maths.
This may be the maths day coming up now.
(3:49 pm Nov 24, 2005)
Gentle reader, if you would like to enjoy today's writing much more, one idea is to pretend that I am writing in various amusing accents. This has the ability to raise you level of enjoyment by Pi orders of magnitude. Give it a try.
Now Pi is a wonderful thing. Lemon Meringue Pi. Humble Pi. Pi R squared. Pie are round. You want apple Pi with that?
Pi in the sky. American Pi. Pi, pi love.
So, I had the low voltage blues again this morning. BEC ya messin with me! Give me the power!
Yeah, BEC now.
The soldiers had no results, Uncle Albert had found nothing new in the old books. Sal had pulled most of the soldiers back to normal duties but had decided to spare a small crew to go on with the searching. A small crew that was at least a little larger than a skeleton crew.
(4:13 pm Nov 24, 2005)
(5:18 pm Nov 24, 2005)
Bruddah Bing and Bruddah Boom were back home. Out at Clifton. They need a break. They needed time with the wind and the waves and the sound of the waves on the rocks. Time to calm down and get focused again. They had never in their lives run into a situation like this before. They were used to success. Things came easy to them. They were well liked, the life of t he parties. They knew how to get things done. They had always been like the Mounties, they always got their man. But not this time. It was frustrating, their nerves were shot. It was simply not possible.
They were both in agreement that their quarry had not left the island. This they knew in their exoskeletons. So why couldn't they turn them up? Anyway, best to try and forget it for a few days, let Big Sal's boys see what they could come up with. Perhaps a few days rest would give them new insights. Perhaps they would think of something obvious they had missed. If they didn't find them in a few days after that, they thought they might just call Snappy Jack.
Despite what Bing and Boom knew in their exoskeletons, XXIII and Cang were no longer in town. No, they had hopped aboard a mail boat to Abaco and then aboard a smack boat heading over to Fort Pierce for emergency repairs. Since they didn't want to show up on any computers, they slipped overboard just before the boat reached the inlet. Slipped over with a surfboard and coolly surfed ashore. They thumbed it up A1A to Indialantic and then walked over into Melbourne. Once in Melbourne, they caught a ride into the outback to meet with a Kangaroo named Hopps. He got his name on account of his love for beer.
(5:51 pm Nov 24, 2005)
As to how they managed this amazing feat, XXIII had the ability to travel between any two places with the same name in the time between the blink of an eye. Don't ask me how he did this, I don't know. I don't know of or where he may have learned it either. I just know he could do it. He, and anything he was touching would simply blur out in one spot and blur in in the other. This being the case, he had to be sure that he jumped into the air just before the blink started. I mean, think of the issues if the whole earth were to blur out in one spot and blur in in another! Would that other spot even be there when the blur in was to occur?
(5:55 pm Nov 24, 2005)
Venn. John. Diagram. Sets. Who are you in set with? You've got sets and subsets and supersets. You've got intersections. Unions. You may have the rectangular universe. Johnston and Euler. Boole and Karnaugh.
He is running with a bad set these days.
(6:14 pm Nov 24, 2005)
OK, enough of this slow writing. Time once again for speed writing. Gentle reader, I hope you passed your speed reading course.
Vrooom. Speed is called for. Plenty speed. Plenty Energy. Plenty plenty.
Bing lit a roman candle and let it pop off a few before throwing it out to sea. He watched it sink to the bottom still shooting out flaming balls of colour. He never ceased to be enchanted by the sight of fireworks burning underwater. There was something just so not right about it that he could not help but grin each time he saw it happen.
(6:18 pm Nov 24, 2005)
Next, he set off a large rocket into the air and then aimed a second large rocked at the sea and lit it. A swoosh and it hit the water with a splash and flew to the bottom before exploding in a glory of undersea colour. Sweetness once more.
(6:20 pm Nov 24, 2005)
I have a plastic statue of Johnny Rat as a youngster on my desk right now as I write. (Note, this fact has no know relevance, but I just thought you might like to know.)
(6:22 pm Nov 24, 2005)
Gotta cut of the game before it sucks me in. 14. 12. 8. Bullet. Ah, the memories.
(6:39 pm Nov 24, 2005)
Yes, but look at the time that little googling research caused. Plus, I forgot to turn off the game. Bam, off now though.
Quick, draw me a Venn diagram that would represent all good novels (A) and all nanowrimo novels (B) and tell me where Tings goes. Careful how you answer though gentle reader. We wouldn't want anything to happen to the man in the moon. Or to Hooter.
Gentle reader, would you care to go with me now, sailing out on the smooth sound? Yes? Wonderful.
Big Bill and Mid Bill were sitting on the bluff. Out on the sound they could see the sloop John B. The sloop John B. was sailing towards shore. The Gruffs got up and scampered down the path to the beach where they kept their dingy Rinky. They pulled Rinky down to the water's edge and hopped in and sculled out towards the sloop.
"Ahoy there the John B."
"Ahoy Rinky Dingy."
"Permission to come aboard?"
And so the brothers Gruff met the Gentle Reader for the first time in person.
"I feel like I know you brothers well."
"Pleased to meet you, I feel like I have only just met you," said Big Bill.
"What it is?" said Mid Bill.
"You man, you!" answered the Gentle reader.
Matrix. Rows and columns man, rows and columns. Square. Unit. Identity. Determinant. Eigenvalues.
(7:00 pm Nov 24, 2005)
The Matrix, some claim it is a superset of the internet. Quick, produce a Venn Diagram of that situation. Be sure to include the rectangular universe in your diagram.
So, gentle reader, now you have tasted life in Tings, you have shown yourself, you have gotten involved as it were. Throws off the chains of readership, of spectatorship as it were and joined us all in this wonderful adventure of creation. Drink deep my friend. Let the glorious intoxicating freedom permeate your very being. Join the revolution. Televise it if you wish.
(7:10 pm Nov 24, 2005)
Internet. Matrix. Net. Infobahn. Cyberspace. Virtual reality. Computer. Disputer. Datputer. Dauddaputer.
(7:14 pm Nov 24, 2005)
(7:32 pm Nov 24, 2005)
After a while, the Gentle Reader got into the Rinky dingy with the brothers Gruff and the John B. heist up she sails and headed back out into the sound.
(8:19 pm Nov 24, 2005)
OK, this is getting crazy. I am seeing something blurred in my vision, the gentle reader is now roaming around in my book.
Gentle reader, I as kyou, is this right? I know I invited you, but only out of politeness, I never expected you to accept the offer. Now how am I going to deal with you?
Well, I know one thing. This is taking waaaay tooooo loooong and I must go back to speed and perhaps even poorly written nonsense.
We have sailed many months, we have sailed many weeks,
(Four weeks to the month you may mark),
But never as yet ('tis your Captain who speaks)
Have we caught the least glimpse of a Snark!
Ah, yes, a fine example of nonsense that. If only I should ever attain to the lofty heights of nonsense that some before me had conquered.
Now, when I was young, we never did go hunting snarks, but we would go hunting snipes from time to time. Not that we ever caught any mind you, but hunt them we did. Now, I was told that others before had caught snipes, one person in particular seems to have caught one under his hat. Imagine that! Under his hat!
The snipe and the rat sat on a hat
Sat on a hat did the snipe and the rat.
Imagine that, a snipe and a rat perched on a hat.
The cat on the mat sat
And saw the snipe and the rat on the hat.
Imagine that, the cat on the mat saw the snipe and the rat.
The cat on the mat
Jumped at the hat. Ate the snipe and the rat.
Imagine that, the fat cat sat on the mat.
Sine. O over H for the right angle triangle. Sine, sine, everywhere. A sine by any other name would sound as sweet. Sweeter than a saw.
I told you this might be the maths day and we have had Tuple, Venn, Matrix, and now Sine. A wonderful group. Four tuples of four elements sat upon one another. I feel great said the matrix.
(8:38 pm Nov 24, 2005)
And so I sit my feet in front.
My mind grown dull, yea even blunt.
I cast my mind upon the tide.
And dolphins three give me a ride.
And so I sit my feet below.
My mind asleep, if you must know.
I cast my dreams up in the air.
Come catch me there if you dare.
And so I stand my feet above.
My mind on you, my turtle dove.
I cast my love upon the ground.
But unto me it does rebound.
(8:44 pm Nov 24, 2005)
I writes better nonsense dan you.
An errybody know dis is true.
What ya ma an pa ga do?
When ya nonsense make dem so blue.
(8:46 pm Nov 24, 2005)
Did I mention the major case of the low voltage blues I had this morning? Well, even if I did, I feel compelled to mention it now.
This morning I had not even finished reading my overnight email when the low voltage gru struck. The UPS started beeping. I was obliged to shut down everything and do no more computing from home for the morning. I mean, come on guys! How can Bahamians hope to nano properly with the low voltage blues and the no voltage blues getting in the way all of the time?
It is just not right I tell you. What does a Bahamian have to do? Write things out longhand and pay a typist? If a typist could even hope to read my longhand in the first place. In the second place? Anyone seen the party of the first part?
(8:50 pm Nov 24, 2005)
I must now find the time to tell you a once upon a time.
A once upon a time, a ball of string, no twine and a lime.
A lime with a chime and a dime in a clime so sublime.
Dressed up so fine and standing in line, yes queued up refined.
Until half past nine, when called in to dine.
Once upon a time.
There was an old man who lived in the can.
Each day this man Stan, he read of Japan.
That horrid old man in the can.
(8:55 pm Nov 24, 2005)
This trumped up old man name of Jim.
Sat on his front porch on a tin.
He fried up a roach,
And an egg he did poach.
And on toast he ate them for din.
(8:58 pm Nov 24, 2005)
This is the end of the day.
Gentle reader, some advice if I may?
If ever again, I should invite you in,
Shout "Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin!"
(9:00 pm Nov 24, 2005)