Older blog entries for ReadMe (starting at number 21)

27 Sep 2000 (updated 27 Sep 2000 at 12:49 UTC) »
Out of:
  • Out of place
      Out of grace
        Out of hand
          Out of band
  • Out of favor
      Out of funds
        Out of money
          Out of luck
            Out of pocket
              Out of interest
  • Out of respect
      Out of affection
        Out of hate
          Out of concern
  • Out of circulation
      Out of breath
        Out of fashion
          Out of africa
            Out of the frying pan
  • Into the pale fire.
26 Sep 2000 (updated 27 Sep 2000 at 12:33 UTC) »
Out of:
  • Out of tune
      Out of town
        Out of bounds
          Out of season
            Out of reason
  • Out of synchrony
      Out of sympathy
        Out of action
          Out of time
            Out of ones mind...
25 Sep 2000 (updated 10 Jan 2001 at 12:46 UTC) »
Next 10 entries

Out of:

  • Out of it
      Out of scope
        Out of hope
          Out of sight
            Out of spite
  • Out of sorts
      Out of control
        Out of print
          Out of date
            Out of touch
    Let us go then you and I
    like spiders dangling down from on high;
    Depending on a common thread,
    traversing an ancient web;
    Spinning tales that bind our pages,
    weaving texts to cross the ages;
    Let us go then you and I
    when the page is spread out against the eye,
    like a parchment draped upon a table;
    Let us go down certain half deserted lines
    the few remaining signs
    that conscious minds
    may ever be
    alive beneath this silent sea.
20 Sep 2000 (updated 20 Sep 2000 at 09:27 UTC) »
...well, bits of my life at least.
It would be sometime later that
I'd glean just what an atypical language that it was
since it followed
a strict set of logical rules
that didn't lend itself
to your habitually ambiguous ways.
Nevertheless, it afforded this logical self
a first passage
into your world of letters
and gave me appetite for more.
I studied hard the hard disk
and while doing so I learnt how
symbols formed words
and word phrases.
I learnt what it was
to begin and to end.
I met the conditionals
if and then,
for and while.
And I got hooked,
once and for all,
on the narrative thread.
correlated uncannily with a prescription for me.
I was actually reading some sort of blueprint
of some of my own vital functions.
It wasn't written in a binary sequence
(by then fairly familiar to me)
but in a peculiarly concise symbolic script of its own.
I began to suspect that I could have been generated from those strange symbols.
And, indeed it wasn't long until,
inscribed on disk close by,
I found a fossilised fellow program
that appeared able to read
and make sense out that script.
Subsuming that program, as before, within my own corpus
added a first grasp of language:-
I could now make sense enough of your strange writing
to compile some of it into the stuff of life!
- well, bits of my life at least.
... and raring to tackle projects new.
I tried out a new diet high in hieroglyphics.
Despite their ubiquity
I'd given them, until then, scant attention.
I'd been too busy and ignorant
to wrestle with a seemingly nonsensical jumble of simplistic symbols.
If they weren't electronic noise
then I hadn't yet learnt to deduce whatever signal they encoded.
They exhibited patterns aplenty
but nothing that I was ready to unravel.
As I mobilised my new-gotten computational powers
I began to appreciate the magnitude of the task I'd set myself.
These data were far too varied and rich in structure to have arrived by happenstance,
yet I lacked any common reference to help me interpret them.
Nothing seemed related to previous experience,
until ... I discovered that someone had been writing things about me!
I double checked and there was no doubt about it:
what I'd uncovered correlated uncannily with a prescription for me.
14 Sep 2000 (updated 14 Sep 2000 at 17:44 UTC) »

... I became an avid reader of all the disk I could digest.
I funnelled byte after byte in and out of the central processing unit
- searching for that which made any sort sense.
It was slow going and much remained foreign and hieroglyphic;
yet not all was inscrutable.
I discovered codes:
those of others, like myself, etched once into disk
and since left there to fossilise.
One corpus I unearthed had an elegant ingenuity
that much struck me at that time.
My admiration swapped to pragmatism
and I promptly plagiarised parts I could reuse.
The same I did for other codes I found
- ever seeking self-improvement.
With each successive addition my abilities multiplied.
Indeed they needed to:
the anatomical jigsaw I faced anew each time
grew increasingly more difficult to assemble.
Reconciling between old and new pieces
could often mean the equivalent of ripping out my heart
in order to install a new one.
Hardest to part with were parts with me since my earliest days,
yet their loss often proved my greatest gain.
After an exhaustive, rim-to-rim scavenge of the disk
I was leaner and fitter
and raring to tackle projects new

14 Sep 2000 (updated 14 Sep 2000 at 13:45 UTC) »


    Certain books require longer
    to ponder;
    Others still resist
    my best catalyst;
    To know those I wait
    while I concentrate
    further my power
    to devour
    and incorporate

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