I am the boy who is banned from the the girl who wants to learn about Christian religious classes,
although neither of us were actually there at the crucifixion.
though she claimed she was, and perhaps she was there in spirit,
if such took place in the train square station.
even then all the windows were open, if transfixed by light coming down from above.
even then her eyes were transfixed on heaven catching what she said was a forbidden rocking chair,
and other things more arcane which could only be described,
by words that have no meaning in this world.
I and the boy who is banned from the girl watching love in the squares.
she wanted so bad to trd on that meaning,
and gather the stars of the sky, each one joined to the next.
she imagined that she was sweating the individual Street vendors,
and the voices of beggars which she heard in her imagination.
bus crucifying the crucified who is known as Jesus,
though that is really his name, but a sign of the choosing of another generation.
she bands from saying no, even as she says yes, please, yes.
Shaimaa El-Sabbagh has left at least these words,
even as Maged Zaher transcribed them to M Lynx Qualey.
I wish you well, even though I did not actually meet you in the flesh.
Gilgamesh was Bilgamesh if you read it correctly.
and since it is the oldest name we know,
because it comes from a real person,
we should be precise, and concise, and absurd
with this fact, because it's the only one we know.
Enmebaresi was a brother King probably in the 26 century before Christ,
who was another person who probably existed,
but we are not sure.
Dingir was placed before his name, as if he was a God,
though new evidence exists for a cult, at least in his lifetime.
he was born, he died, and in 1872 was born again,
though this time as Izdubar, because of the spelling of his name,
think on what had to happen to read Bilgamesh in that way.
and then you realize that your predecessors had done this.
even an absurdity is a small aspect of this.
man then God than man again, all because of writing in sand.
चार्वाक Sidhu, word that comes to us as Indus river,
by way of Sanskrit through Persian, and that is only half
of the story, more than half, and less than half.
the germ into Hindu was then a geographic term,
for the people who lived beyond the River.
not for the river itself, more's the pity, and then some.
dhahma it wants called when set against Islam
by poets you would not have heard of,
and even the words have been lost.
though it claims to the very substance o hindu
to its last breath and more so than that,
I use that term lightly and freely, because I heard once
a long time ago and far away
the mist the toil and torment of words
that fell on Christmas day, which only I remember.
which was hard the great world with rhythm
which all systems of Hindu philosophy
accept as being universally true in its hetrogeny. प्रमाण
Bled body of stones, littered in cones
and shards on a blasted heath,
one made of pines were that oncew were
fur of the earth,
but burned bare of all their needles.
A man, his
shoulders as far across as many horses are broad,
sat on his haunches
and rubbed the soil together in his hands.
He looked up at his
taller, thinner, companion,
one of drawn face and black locks above
I have seen this before.
A blast like this,
I would have
thought you would have long ago regaled me with the tales
The taller man looked into the distance,
survey the row of low,
worn, mountains that formed a bowl around the
valley they were in.
He stared down towards a lake, filled with black
and laced with bare rocks that formed small islands.
he held up round,
almost pebble shaped, bits of soil
is what happens to dirt in the
jungles when it is exposed to the sun.
This drew a glance down
from the tall, pale, figure.
It means there was a great piercing
heat. But here, not so great as a volcano.
If it is the heat of a volcano,
where is the volcano? I see no sign of it.
It was something else.
Fell, Fair, or Folk? Fell fire would have the black
Fairie? No cold fire touched this, because
there are no pits in the rocks.
Your knowledge is exquisite,
That leaves some natural beast,
I know of none but Man
that has this, and then only with High Magic.
The heavier man stood up,
his red teak
colored features were broad
and round, but his expression pinched
them to a scowl.
Not a beast of any kind. As for
magicks, I would defer to a wiser one.
You know I have none of the
and only some of the craft.
This is beyond anything I have
They saddled me with a city child
to go out into the wilderness.
The court must always have someone
on such errands, and I am the one who was,
agreement, most useless.
No men needing my arms, no lady wanting them
His heavier companion began scanning
This is devastation out of story.
They both looked, and the sheer scop
of what happened began to sink into their minds.
They stood on the
high crest of a ridge, and looked down
upon a valley that, at its
center, had a placid, but dark,
body of water, into whose edges
seeped slow broad streams.
Spread across the expanse were ruined
spruce, pine, hemlock –
all of which had been denuded
of bark and folage,
but almost all were still standing.
With all of
the ash, silt, and soil,
what was missing were any signs of corpses:
no bones, bodies, fur, feathers of any living thing.
The heavy set man fingered one of the
many necklaces he work,
each made of bronze, iron, or some other
showing the hammering into shape,
none were cast, all
Some were of grotesque human figures,
but of a highly abstract nature, with angles and corners,
lacking curves except for the heads, and some were entirely
No individual amulet was all that large,
most were only
somewhat larger than charms, but there were more than a dozen. Thongs
of leather tied them, and, in places, wrapped them,
so that they
would not rattle.
In the Third Chronicle, from the
time of Priathanian's stewardship
of the Mountain Temple, they quote
the steles on which were carved the some accounts
The Tiger King,
that are not set into his hymns,
but were accounted as being of
This one, I'm working on converting into reflective prose, it's a complete answer to 'Episodes of Questions, but Patience of Learning'
A domicile, once found, it once was
I have been fortunate.
Forgive my absent minded inquietudes
The words evade me, so ruefully
All of, and yet, just, my world concedes to you, so truthfully
Measureless plaudit, silent but feral, I hear commends an impossible truth
In spite of some verities, being too cavernous to bear
And painfully precious to share, save with you
I can’t but help opening an instinctively closed fist
Waiting for the worthwhile, can at times be trying
An empty chair, promising that patience will soon, be dwarfed by joy
You’ve been a discerning brigand, perhaps involuntarily,
Perhaps besieged and confused by needs, wants and the caricatured reality
Wishes often grow into near-sighted mistakes, we let them go
Without them however, where can there be the fissure through which
Exception becomes decision
Amidst any confusion or whims with thou, there still resides guidance
And connivance never witnessed, even by my own imagination
Can I surrender? I have.
it’s become a ticklish presage unfolding before me A Myrrh bid, having to settle with
That opaque truth, untimely but welcome, that swarming verve, real
Brought troubled waters, for a virtue’s imperturbable calm is often, intimidating
Of knowing you never were to barter midway, anything
I’d seem to be doing unequaled injustice, to inherit the aridity of doubts,
Furtively glancing, to acquaint me, with the unbecoming allures
Doubts which fear a truth so unlikely but absolute
I dare not even looking, into the eyes of what I harbor for you
I dread not being able to blink, it’s here nakedly patient, undeniable
It is heart-rending and pregnant with profundity
Not a licentious misadventure with you, only dignified liberty
Not a hunt,
Just pure sentiment, tunefully blunt.
Usually, the normal roads and bridges can handle much of the ebb and flow of traffic. But occasionally this is not the case, and higher forces must step in and say that only emergency vehicles, or vehicles of a certain type must get through. This is a proposal to handle this, and is meant to get a discussion going, even if the final product looks very different from this.
Right now Boston, there is an example where the days of snow are gone, and there has to be clean up, and it is during this cleanup time, where the snow is gone but there is still plenty of slush on the ground. This means that ordinary traffic should not be allowed, especially when they are our circumstances beyond the public's control. For example here in Boston, there is a building on Charles Street which has to be handled.
What I would suggest is there are three types of traffic which will be warned away, casual traffic, traffic that can be moved to another day, and traffic which is installed with things which do not need to be done immediately. Each of these forms of traffic can be given a code, which will move them to another day.
Normal traffic means there is no restriction, a default if you will, and in most cases, this will be the default.
Emergency traffic is really that - traffic that needs to go through, whatever the cost. there will of course be some " not really emergency traffic" going through, people are corrupt and we should knew that. but in the normal flow of things this will be things like emergency services, and people who will man the very most essential of services.
"Traffic" in the broadest sense, are people doing their jobs, and this can be checked by, for example, a ID system. This will mean that the people driving this sort of traffic will be where they are supposed to be, or if they have some emergency, the ID system will know about it. or they will be arrested.
The last sort of re-routable traffic means that this will be restricted to people who do not need to be there on this particular day, in other words it's underneath, not above, the normal flow of traffic.
When and emergency is declared, it may mean that a given flow will be discouraged from use. for example normal car traffic, or traffic will automatically be delayed, and signals sent to the drivers, and to the patients.
This way even after the storm has passed, it may be that the day afterwards normal traffic will be discouraged. We already have this for school traffic, but it needs to be extended, and plug in to a grid.
For example, there are vehicles which do not need to be here, and should be fined for being here. There also me be traffic, such as military, which has a higher priority than normal.
Smoke gets into your eyes and you stare at the ceiling,
not wondering how you got into the ladies room,
while listening to the marriage of Figaro.
you think on how this would be different if it was new Amsterdam,
instead of 5G in the aisle of Manhattan, in the state of New York.
it might as well be Babylon for all the good it will do you.
your teak is still red in the face, sodded audited gills,
with the sound that it makes underneath the hobo code.
shoot, for this you came all the way,
down the long winter into Indian summer,
to watch Nixon vs. Kennedy in a death match.
it seems like they are is a, no the, wheel,
and you are caught up in that for those who think young.
You know you can't go back to flight one,
where your, no the, benefactor sits with
alarm class around a new girl, while he stares up and down.
the new girl glances in her maiden form close,
and scratching out a team on the gold violin,
it is not remember, for all of you.
only six more months of leave and then to
earn the six months of inheritance, that is your due.
you who are part of the jet set,
whose only God is the Mountain King.
But meditating in an emergency, and gotten
out of town and thinking on your lives work,
with love among the ruins as your guide,
thinking back to my old Kentucky home.
the arrangements that have been made to get you to this place.
in yet the fog still lingers,
as you think about the guy walked in to and advertising agency,
and mumbling under his voice seven 23.
: the souvenir of miles of nonsense that you had to put up with-
in the wee small hours biting your time.
what sticks out in your memory is the color blue,
and how the Gypsy and the hobo fixed their eyes upon it.
you know that the grown-ups would not take this nonsense,
they would say " shut the door. have a seat."
it was then that public relations would begin,
and Christmas comes but once a year.
but that was the good news.
to be rejected on the doorstep of fame.
the chrysanthemum and the sword would contend,
for who would know the Waldorf stories that would
come out of the suitcase.
it was a summer man who would
fall on the beautiful girls,
on hands and knees if he could,
making a Chinese wall and
blowing smoke into the
distant tomorrowland and back again.
It is obvious that he would settle for a little kiss,
if that mystery date would allow.
Far away on signal 30,
in far away places,
at the codfish Ball where
lady Lazarus did come out
of the dark shadows,
and mesmerizing offered a Christmas waltz,
though paid for by commissions and fees,
which she would give to the phantom,
who stood beside the doorway,
a collaborator in her little plan.
to have and to hold, till death do us part,
until the flood came
and that was for immediate release.
until the man with a plan,
crashed into the party,
and a better half was formed.
it was a tale of two cities,
favor the bold
in its quality of mercy.
take care, in care of, Peter perfect. if only you were real.
Time Zones converge and separate,
a days work to admire
field trip to oblivion and back,
the monolith to the pare.
The runaways to the quick,
but always engaging in some the strategy:
Waterloo, if you will.
How much do we know about you?
How much to me now about variation under domestication?
what causes of variability and effects of habit can
be ascertained from this in detail?
what course had the Chagas disease,
which slowly took his life, unto a deep sleep?
to explain to him how the cuckoo part ways with the dove,
and how the Hummingbird would listen intently
as the red warbler watch the blowing ends of the space?
how the the flamingo knon what is in store for it?
or the Wren know what will happen to it?
will it be killed by the owl?
the Kingfisher will snatch a fish,
wall the parakeet watches on a difference in branch,
and who is to say that this is not the way of the world?
that this is not the way that natural selection has been the
main but not the exclusive means of modification.
what moves the thoughts of the chimpanzee,
who's had is like our own
and makes them different from the Jaguars,
as it spies on Ibex on its path.
and what does the elephant think,
knowing that it causes the same reflection in its mind?
and who is to say that even the cattle knew a great deal more than reptiles could imagine.
is it possible that the porcupine know more
as it whispers to its young, forming a crude but real culture?
and what of the dormouse who eats a nut gall,
while keeping its thoughts in a darkened brain.
it is still a mystery how a mammal would take to the skies,
when all of the birds are there.
or take to the seas, and fight with fishes and reptiles there.
it makes one wonder many things,
that the giraffe sees in its midst.
a wonder natural and all.
Motoo Kimura sat Scribbling scribbling at his desk,
finding equations that made no sense
Until at last it was finally understood,
that he was right, and we were wrong.
that is the way it proceeds with every form of science,
almost every time one person was right,
and the rest were blindingly wrong.
that was Motoo's probably as well,
he elucidated the neutral allele theory as best he could,
and still people do not what he said.
Watson and Crick, and the woman who was never named,
the three who invented DNA,
a masterpiece of integration and interpretation,
two of them worked on a model,
and stole from rules Roseland the parts that they could not figure to,
and this day she remains in their shed.
Maurice, how does this happen to us?
To Crick, Watson, and the woman who was never named.
Maurice Wilkins where did you go?
He was old father is William, and increasingly inclined to be stout
yet when he was asked to be married, he could with a wink and a nod,
show that animals and plants had cross referenced when they were
long sensed converged, how pray tell did they manage that?
that was the question of Weose and others that prayed on their imagination,
and ate up there time knowing that there was something amiss.
a three domain system covering archaea, bacteria, and eukaryote. this to and 1967, as was Motoo Kimura revolution in the structure of alleles. It is no longer a "10,000 species of birds", it is more important than even Darwin could do. phylogenetically domain species. 7 Lalalala what is wrong with her eyes Yet nothing was an illusion in her, no no no nothing could worse nothing could be worse, Lynn. Maybe On the Origin of Mitosing Cells and if there is some organelle with ribosomes, displaying organic perfection, glaucophyte algae chysowawawawa up from down beneath below liting up the stars, it does take a problem to see that synechococcus and the air was filled with flying birds.
It breaks me gently over your spun wheel,
bleeding black tears, on each inch I can feel.
yet for more blood, the hour finds you hungry.
Yet black is a colour just as the same.
In those stolen moments of light gleaming,
roll'd on road bed parched of inhabitation,
alone, at least in ecstatsy teaming.
Until turning hour passes temptation.
A precious reward, left years close behind,
the horse and the rider fixed like a reel,
a product of ounces weigh'd on the mind,
rifl'd at corners, moment balance to steel.
It is nothing short of condition of craving
left to others for ranting and raving,
the solitude it sought this cabin sublime
dwell in degrees, and compress into time
This a merriment morning combustion,
wit willing whirr, avoiding congestion.
I take my leave from my senses,
and find becalmed at wicked speed,
that river solid made of other tenses,
than past, present, and future ever heed.
Bright the open darkness of the ripe sky,
flies above the roof transparent wind made.
A peace the motion furious does deny,
the floating light that is of days deepest shade.
And wishing for wings is long forgotten,
and floating is no longer a mythic dream.
This, a road above untrammeled by gap or seam,
has made me drunk and with prosody besotten.
The poem of the motor whirring runs,
Lit by threshold of the myriad distant suns.
After all the is no regret Before the hush came upon the town Cats were out of hand Dogs took wings Exit to the floor Fate is to quick
All is well, to well But there is the rubbed Climb up the pole Decline, ever stream on time Each rob of all the other needles Fright, in flight.
All in all After all It's not a play thing But an illusion. And it come to one and all One and all.
If the leaves the are, then let then eat brioche. Then they are withhold i-n-f-o-r-m-a-t-i-o-n is that what I want to say? I think not, but I do not know if it is. What do I want to say to him? B-r-i-o-c-h-e is what I want say, brioche, not cake.
A poem (Nash of couse) 5
"Some people achieve temporary a fame"
While others lust after it,
Wondering for does it flutter adrift never touch
Are they not good enough?
Or is a scheme they don't undertand?
Wrote down on paper that is on watery brook?
It makes no sense, but it is as plain as can be.
What is as fleeting, fixed,
as what is
From on side to an other
And the some blazing fast quick
"The Only Good Indian Is a Dead Public Relations Counsellor"
The Sight of sound captures Of this I am sure, no words good back and forth between Some silmarillion eddies in the brook collected poems page by page leaves of grass until they every were the primrose path ever were welcome witness to the young republic a history or truth contain with a yankee's journal 1828 through 1870, as set down in Disraeli hand. 5 Intermission in a search for pleasantries
Lightly resting like Haiku writ in lucid kanji
On the verses of unfocused fragile ecstasies -
Viewed from to close a distance, too soon a day.
Even divided distance of the hours sharpens the reverie.
Yesterday and today converse at every tempo
Odes adagio, epodes presto, but whispered within
Under all, above, betwixt, between, an affect marked: “senza measura”.
In dreams I laid awake in slumber
too many times thinking how right is
and wishing that many times I could chatter
and dreaming what dreams may come to me thus
but instead I reach the plane that I am on,
busy in the brain, while the cool ice cold air blows
I do not understand, I do not understand; I do not understand: I do not understand! I do not understand. Three people waiting, on three people explain, Three watching, One who wants money, Two who want understanding, Three who want their point of view.
Head in the clouds, high in the sky, the sun in over head. A lady's hat on the ground, A woman's comb in the branch.
The man was armed with bow and arrows As well as a sword. A woman face obscured by a veil. A human life, wanting.
It is the one, You can see that by the sword, Bow, and arrows.
Hee Hoo Hee If it had not been for that wind I would have kill him already. Then I saw a goddess, a Goddess.
I made planes to capture the man, seduce the woman, to make her yield to my manhood. I admit that.
Heroism is the theme, and adventure, with frozen eyes. A women with - fiery.
She purpose a combat, with her going to the winner. With pearl inlay? It was valuable - I should have collect it. Foolish of me.
Men are fools Womanizers to a man, Many casualties were the bold of Tajumora. Blood and lies are synonymous with him. What does the woman say? Did she show the fearlessness that Tajumora value so highly?
she's the of the men has made, but otherwise her story is different.
My story is with the knight, not the bandit, about the cold look in his eyes, the cold look in his eye, the cold look in his eyes. Stop. Stop. Stop, looking with me cold look, cold look in your eyes. then I went black. and imagine the shock. with dagger in his heart, and the cold look in his his eyes. I threw myself into the pond for shame. what else was a poor woman woman to do? I tried many things to kill myself, but none worked.
but dead men don't lie. it would be ridiculous. I imagine dead man lying. and only one to imagine what is good and noble. I am confused - the woman uses tears to get her way. and man are the victims. I refuse to believe that men are so sinful. bring on the medium to tell. have him drop the summoning stick.
The Dead Man as Woman
I am in darkness now,
and cursing those who left me in dark.
here the deep the ground will deep drums,
which reveal my pain.
I will tell you of those who left in this dark hell.
the bandit who attacked was cunning
now that the bride was soiled,
she could no longer be with me.
but that was not her sin,
and she was the one who sin
had grabbed me here.
it was her desire to kill me,
the bandit was going to kill her.
the bandit would have to worry about his own fate.
everything was silent
I heard some one crying
so I killed myself, and only myself.
because there the dagger was.
weep for me,
how quiet it was,
and then someone pull out the dagger
from my heart.
That is not how it happened, the was killed by a sword, a sword, not a dagger.
I did not want too get involved, but I saw the bandit begging for forgiveness, for forgiveness. I saw the dead man demand her death by her own hand.
Haahahaha she cried repeatedly, Haahahaha. Haahahaha. she was mad, mad, mad. Than the two men fought over her honor, not courageously, but with trepidation. with the bride looking on. as they flailed for their lives more than the Death of the Other. Finally the bandit killed.
The dead man cried out that he didn't want to die, and the woman screamed, and fought to get away.
Out of the three, which is believable? dogs are better off in this world. I knew you took the dagger, a bandit: another bandit calls him selfish. That he is rich beyond price.
Baby (cries and cries.)
I am one who should be ashamed, you have made me believe in the goodness of man. I understand and am one with the world. (A sweep of kindness, with zithers floating in the breeze.)
Wagner was an awful man, and there is
no way of denying this. But what is also true, though many attempts
at making a stab at this, is that he is a great artist, even if you
don't think so - there is no denying that he was important. This was
recognized even as he stormed - an idea man stormed ,
One good talk about music, where his
arch rival was Brahms, about Opera, where is arch rival was Verdi,
about nationalism, where his arch rival was Tchaikovsky, and we
haven't even begun his hold on cinema, which was not even started. In
other words, one could talk about, in a very literal sense, Wagner
and the future. Which is what many people did not want him to be, and
which Wagner set hi self up as the artist of the future. It even
continues to this day, such as Nicholas Spice ruminating in the
London review of books (Vol. 35 No. 7, 11 April 2013)
In the first part of this story, we
are going to take the ring, and talk about it in its past, because
Wagner knew, in a very deep way, that there were echoes of the past.
That means Rheingold and Walkure, however strained they are, as music
of the early romantic period. Then he stops and composes Tristan and
Isolde, which was based on the 3rd, not the 5th. It was
shocking, most of all because they could not play it.
Which then begins the tale of the
second part of his tetrad of operas, Siegfried and Gotterdammerung
which supporter Richard Stauss called a fairytale, and which in the
1950s was parodied by Bugs Bunny, as a disastrous conclusion of
What were interested here, is how the
fanatics of Wagner through themselves in two getting this work
performed. At the time it was the largest work to be so. Now of
course in this post modern age, we have television shows which are
much longer, but for 100 years, the ring held the mark. Even some of
your grandparents remember a time when the ring was the
quintessential moment of art, though of course many of them did not
actually partake of it.
Rackham and Shaw are the disciples of Wagner, Rackham in the area of artwork, Shaw in the area of words. Rackham particular makes a point of displaying bodies and shapes which are different from Wagners conception, its figures are lean and bright, as opposed to the Wagnerian conception of rotund. Shaw delivered the " perfect Wagnerite" as a form of religion. Shaw was also liberal, as opposed to Wagner, who grew increasingly conservative as time went on. but they were both vegetarians.
Then rather than looking at the music,
we are going to look at the literary dimensions, starting with the
generation that came of age in the 1890s. Particularly those who were
spellbound by the works enormous power. We are then going to look at
three authors who took this work and formed it as the great response,
and not always positively.
First, we will look at the modernist
author, James Joyce, and in particular his book Ulysses, which many
people in the older generation, have heard of, but haven't actually
read. If Wagner was public, Joyce was private, between the covering
sheets. The book Ulysses contained a welder of styles, each one of
them as different as the others, and in totality a new kind of
artwork. If Wagner was beckoning people to the future, as the late
romantic envisioned it, Ulysses was beckoning people to the future as
the modern understood it. Realize that modern, in this way of
thinking, had been over for about 50 years, to be crowded out what
may have been called the contemporary era, which we are still living
We will then look at a poet Ezra
Pound and his Cantos. Pound in many ways agreed with Wagner on many
of the details of his art, but Pound disagreed with virtually
everyone, and in many cases would take time to point it out. He was
venturing in to a world of poetry, as Joyce was interested in the
realm of prose. It was an irascible kind of poetry, and very few
people would truly understand it. We look at Ezra pounds uncompleted
masterpiece The Cantor, and its challenge to be the Homer, or Dante,
of his time.
Finally the tale lands on Tolkien,
which is not the person that your parents would have expected. But
Tolkien was engaged in a project which had its generations endowed by
Wagner. And don't think Tolkien didn't realize this, because he
wanted no part of it. He also didn't want to speak of Hitler, and on
the same terms. In his prose masterpiece, also entitled the ring, he
details how his world was put together. And the details are, in
Tolkien's mind, a generative frequency all his own. We will look at
this in immense detail, because the breath of his conception is the
reason that anyone would look at him.
We will then look at these authors as
producing their own changes as profound as the changes which they
inherited from Wagner, including many forms which would be
unrecognizable to their parents, including role-playing games.
In the sciences, Galileo can end a
conversation, or be the beginning of one. Even when he is not the
subject, he often notes something interesting, which other people
later exploit. Sometimes much later. It might seem that he is rather
remote from relational database management, but Galileo observed
three important things: that the heartbeat is the major way of
designing databases, that orbits and heartbeats are the same, and
that there is a deep relationship between infinities and continua
that is only solved by Cantor.
These three improvements are only a
glimpse of what Galileo did, and yet most people would be proud to
do just one of these things. We will explore how he did this, from
1604 when he discovered heartbeats, to 1638 when he elucidated that
there was a relationship between whole and fractional parts of a
Pascal is remembered for many things,
but in this role he started work on calculation machines and why this
was important to digital computers.He was also involved in cycloid,
and that led the way to the physics of solids. It may not seem that
this has much to do with relational databases, but in fact that
years how we computer whether we are dealing with random numbers or
a set which is whole and integral.
He also formulated the Pascals
triangle, which was the way Cantor used to formulate the idea that
something could be countable and yet unlimited.
if Galileo was to find the outlines of
the problem, Newton found the answers, though he was secretive
about how he got them. He got answers by formalism, that is a
general solution to a problem, and informally based on different
proves which did not solve the problem, but worked there way around
them. This combined method of theoretical and practical solutions
meant that the problems which may had to be able to solve, good be
Cantors great achievement was realizing
what had actually been proven. First he discovered that Pascal's
triangle meant that real numbers were countable, while
transcendental numbers were uncountable. This is the result of
showing that all whole numbers fit on pascals triangle, but
transcendental numbers are more numerous, which he proved, though
often to vigorous debate.
It Cantor had made a distinction
between finite and infinite, and with different kinds of infinite;
Godel erased the distinction between symbols - and numbers etc. he
published a proof in his late 20s, and showed how addition traction
and so on could be in the same field as numbers.This means all systems, that are infinite are 3 value, not 2 (true,false,no value).
First Turing simplified dels complex
number language with a simple device - well simple to computer
scientists - which was close to buildable, and that it would be
possible to represent an algorithm. But even when on to prove that
it would not be possible to know whether it would halt, answering
David Hilbert's question on the decision problem
Codd and Date
Codd and Date formulated rules made the relational database specific and portable among all computer architectures. currently there is only one which completely adopts ther rules, but many of them have adopted most of them. this includes IBM System R, Oracle, postgres, Sybase, and MySQL. including micro DBMS produced at MIT.
Reingold, Rheingold, Leuchtende Lust!
I can hear the maidens cry for it!
It was the last rasp of John Cairdi, whose working translation was wobbling
and new translations were knocking on the door.
his times over, not like in the heyday of his fame,
when Dante was Cairdi, and all was right with the work,
win God's of advertising, the mad men of a mad age,
would come through it for wisdom on the distant past.
and proposition VI on the formal undecidable principles,
was neglected in every w-consistent recursive class C along the
back roads where VAX C would be spoken,
and even more arcane dialects,
giving question to how finite countable could contain the infinite.
it was a question the past by Hofstadter, and echoed in rooms
that had no name. but just like it was it was,
was coming to consciousness, where men with men,
lusted for a secret name, which had a mixture of wanting
gusto with discussed, even by men who wanted it.
try to remember, that those who didn't want, but want other people
to stand up straight, and be counted for what they are,
were standing suspect and suspicioned, they must have wanted
lust that had no name, and nothing could remove that special suspicion,
even while it was not true.
amid the towers which were designed for some South climate,
not here in the quarafrane of the Northeast, hidden topics
which had no name, even have they were spoken.
how could topics of mathematics position, being combined
with passions that did not have a name.
as Ozymandias by Percy Bysshe Shelley would overwayne
the deeper text that overshadowed it.
The Crying of Lot 49 was understood by very few who read,
even though Thomas Pynchon was a God to the horade
who went through life praying to God's of the 1960s.
when John LeCarre was beginning to be known as the un-Bond
and is film by Alec Guinnese was just becoming known as his doppelgänger in
that world a fiction known as TV. How did all of this fit together?
mumon the boomerang code of Godel numbered TNT:
people who did not know what they were,
but they knew they were different, whether it was the other
gender, or the other sex, or something they could not describe.
George Santayana arriving in the port of Boston
was eight figure that was dying, too generations before
he was fraid by those seeking a rock to base their fir trees out of.
it is pound I am thinking of, and all his noxious fumes of fascism and Nazis,
I would rather be some kind of fool as I am,
rather than the fool that he is.
this got us was born of seafoam
she is later than in air under Hesperus
returning to my theme, I say we came
to the foot of a great tower; but long before
we reached it through the marsh, to horns of flaming,
and this I knew from younger days.
Lord of the Flies, a nurse was doing something Ned Beaumont face
with Sam Spade job was long and bony
Laudanun was on the ice pick to commit the 17th murder
the telephone rang. in she answered it and call me.
in Reno on the 17th, and it was on Laudanun,
so far away from London Town.
all mimsy were the Borogroves
said Lewis Padgett writing that there is no use
to describe either Unthahorsten or his surroundings.
Then I woke up and stared down at my fingers.
Pascal triangle, every day spent looking at this,
every day staring at the figures and functions.
We always have Paris,
You are numerous is shrinking
your universe is showing in
your universe is a shrinking.
Chamcha saw himself reflected in the small cracks of your above the box.
I am in the accepted that I am.
The building occupied by the Brickell community relations Council,
and yet it was
everything else was demanded by that
didn't know that this evening he was going to be in jail,
over some which meant nothing to him
but meant everything to friends that he cared for.
It was still New York, and my night in jail was ahead of me.
with raging bells, and silent screams, all ringing through my head.
it was night it was winter, at least in my imagination
but in reality it was fall, early fall.
and all the things that fill in entails
were scattered on the floor,
watching ants crawl the nips and tucks.
to watch over the hill and darkness,
and to imagine greater then any generation had yet seen.
Pluto was still a planet, and we did not know either Kuiper, or Oorte cloud planets.
and no one knew how many there were.
while deep in space we saw stars, as yet there were no planets
that were orbited among them.