Time for a randomised blog entry

Despite promises of spam filtering, my blog comments section is prefilled with spam.

Presented to you below for your reading pleasure is a compilation of random spam in the order I received the comments, which has a symmetry about it that I can hardly describe without laughing at the seriousness of it all, like recording snippets of conversation in a public place and expecting to figure out the mystery of life…


I must say, as a good deal as I enjoyed reading what you had to say, I couldnt aid but lose interest following a even though. Its as in case you had a amazing grasp on the subject matter.

The following time I read a weblog, I hope that it doesnt disappoint me as much as this one. I mean, I know it was my option to learn, but I really thought youd have something fascinating to say. All I hear is a bunch of whining about one thing that you might fix in the event you werent too busy looking for attention.

The subsequent time I learn a weblog, I hope that it doesnt disappoint me as much as this one. I mean, I know it was my option to read, but I truly thought youd have one thing attention-grabbing to say. All I hear is a bunch of whining about something that you may fix in the event you werent too busy looking for attention.

i love your posts, but i like this one more than the others, so i read it all over again

hoe versier ik een man

All my best memories come back clearly to me, some can even make me cry.Someone is ringing the bell.The figure seems all Right.Had it not been for the alarm clock she wouldn’t have been late.He led them down the mountain.There are mice next to the refrigerator, under the sink and inside the cupboard!There are mice next to the refrigerator, under the sink and inside the cupboard!He fell behind with his work.The wall has ears.The weight is too much for my height.

How to Make an Easy as well as Flavorful Brown rice

This place is in key Spain southern region of The city renowned worldwide for the escapades of Put on Quixote tilting with windmills. It’s a region associated with extremes using bitterly cold really winds blowing across an enormous large plateau in the extremely freezing winters as well as blisteringly hot dry out summers.

To find to know more in relation to saffron, read the portion below. You can be amazed at what you thought you actually knew, and the wonderful you did not.

Interestingly, this kind of place had been flourishing just as one art middle from the best time. Perhaps till some time ago, this position enjoyed excellent patronage of residents who treasured art and it also still proceeds to do so.

After harvest time, the farmers independent the reddish stigma as well as roast these on a sieve – this produces the saffron many of us use intended for food preparation, fabric coloring as well as medicinal purposes. In the city of Consuegra, the Fiesta de are generally Rosa del Azafran commemorates the end of harvesting season. Every year at the end of October, music as well as dancing populate the roadways to celebrate a very good season. Azafran would be the Spanish phrase for saffron.

Peel and carefully chop the onion. Warmth the butter as well as oil within frying pan as well as fry the peeled and killed garlic as well as onion until golden. Create curry and cumin as well as cook intended for 2-3 minutes.

Grading of saffron [] is done according to coloration, floral waste content as well as foreign matter. There are a few grades associated with saffron: Mongra contains top most aspects of dried stigmas. Lacha is a component of preconception with type. Gucchi contains total stigmas with type tied within bundles.

The reason why saffron is so much will that it is the stamen of a flower that requires to be chosen by hand. This stamen is part in the central aspects of a flower. Namely the spot that the plant pollen is placed on to fertilise the flower. Just about every flower simply contains a few of these stamens which can be 5 to 2 cm extended and a few associated with millimetres wide. If they’re dried they can be even smaller and lighter!

Saffron Crocus belongs to the fall-blooming group. This flowers and leaves begin to seem at the same time, usually around October. The grass-like foliage eventually achieve a length associated with 1-1 1/2 feet, though the 1 1/2-2 inch wide flowers increase barely in excess of an inches above the soil. The aromatic flowers are lavender or perhaps reddish-purple with dispersing petals. This styles currently have three extended blood-red, drooping, preconception lobes, from which the yellow saffron spruce is gathered. The anthers are also bright yellow-colored but are not a source of the spruce.

Turmeric acidic tomatoes taste awesome. I modified this formula from a formula in the late great Barbara Tropp’s guide ‘China Moon’. If you like Chinese food have a copy associated with her guide as the tasty recipes are out of this world. Barbara Tropp offered this formula a Chinese twist even so replaced the woman Chinese substances with things that are used within Indian cooking. The result is a fresh tasting salad that really is among my in history favourites.

Some people believe that saffron has many health benefits. You’ll find claims of which digestion might be greatly enhanced and that the spice is often a tremendous detoxing agent. It has also been confirmed as a highly effective aphrodisiac in many china cultures.

This can be due to it is powerful odor.

The rabbit ran to the woods and did not come back any more.He was not a little tired.She has been collecting stamps.Where did you learn to speak English?I am afraid that l have to go.The constitution guards the liberty of the people.The constitution guards the liberty of the people.He grasped both my hands.It sounds great!I appreciate John’s helping in time.

Habits of Habitual Habitating Habitats

I am a man of opposites.

I don’t always know why.

If you say left, I say right.

If you say can, I say might.

If you say Catherine, I say Kathryn.

If you say Jennifer, I say Guinevere.

Opposites have meaning in alliteration,

Different than meanness in symbols/ideas.

Vocabulary definitions,

Vocational constabulary,

Destabilising vacations,

Docent verifications.

Definitely vocal.

Defiantly local.






Tie vest.

Vie via “veni, vidi, vici.”


Words curb.

Curb words.

Carve wood.

Weave curds.

The rhythms rhyme with rheumatism like no other word could.


= = = = =

Thanks to Morgan at Dreamland BBQ; Robert Gates; Tony Yates; Christa DeCicco; “Christabel” by Samuel Taylor Coleridge.


The one area of intelligence that my wife and I agree on is the definition of X-in-the-loop.

A machine that requires input from a person is a human-in-the-loop device/system.

All commercial automobiles require a person to operate the automobile (but that is quickly going to change).

Is a road full of automobiles that require no human input a sign of intelligence?

What about the Curiosity rover on Mars?

What features can we list that show autonomous functions in one subset, intelligent functions in another and a set of features in the subset of the autonomy/intelligence junction?

What makes the autonomous functions of my central nervous system intelligent or conscious?

What about the automatic connection of my laptop computer’s WiFi radio subsystem in this room to the WiFi router in another part of the house and then on out to the Internet?

What is pure hardware-in-the-loop intelligence like, no HID required/allowed?

If a database is updated by a software program which seeks to maximise its collection of available knowledge, knowledge that it alone determines is valuable, is that intelligence?

And what about the age-old arguments of the conscious-vs-subconscious thought sets?

These words are just a few that pass through my thoughts before I make a last-second decision upon another upon another, etc., until I type these words in a coherent whole row called a sentence, in exclusion of and in competition within a finite possibility (you won’t find Croatian or Sanskrit here without the use of an online translator, for instance).

If the Internet is now an extension of my thought set, am I a human-in-the-loop extension of the Internet?

I sit here, taking an occasional sip of black label Irish whiskey (“Black Bush”), looking at the clock, which shows 22:38, and contemplate going to bed, where I will not be directly disturbed by the Internet, although my dreams (my subconscious?) may work through thought patterns I’ve had today about artificial machine intelligence which date back to my childhood days of the 1970s and the promise of LISP/ELIZA and other AI programs that relied on pattern-matching (why does the image of trees appear in my thoughts right now?).

…data structures…hmm…

On the floor next to me, in addition to “Dictionary of Quotations” by Bergen Evans, “Madame Bovary” by Gustave Flaubert and “The Schizoid World of Jean-Paul Satre and R.D. Laing,” are two books that captured my attention several years ago: “I, Cyborg” by Kevin Warwick, and “Natural-Born Cyborgs: Minds, Technologies, and the Future of Human Intelligence” by Andy Clark.

From them, I contemplated a novel I write using software agents in a database, with every word/phrase/sentence/paragraph/chapter hyperlinked/connected such that the story changed based on reading the reader’s online self, with a voiceover and accompanying 3D video that interjects based on the reader’s vital signs, the novel frequently switching to a series of random words to shake up the reader’s thought patterns, slipping in and out of the reader’s online life — social life, blog, game sequences, website, etc. — so that the reader soon could lose track of self completely in a world of half-plagiarism, half-homage collage.

As I write this blog entry, my software agent has jumped from suggesting the word I’m typing to suggesting the rest of the end of the sentence.

After hundreds of blog entries, my software agent has jumped from suggesting the rest of this sentence to write the rest of the blog entry for me.

Based on the research I perform on the Internet every day and the books I have lined up to read the rest of the week, as well as following my daily patterns, including eye movements, my software agent has written the rest of this week’s blog entries for me, suggesting that I skip using the Internet altogether today and go for a nice, relaxing hike in the cool autumn morning, using my “Internet of things” kitchen appliances to assemble a sandwich along with the rest of my meal/snacks to eat that my smartphone will remind me of when my vital signs show sign of hunger along the trail.

Readers of this blog can now no longer tell when I stopped writing these blog entries, or when I sometimes step in as a person-in-the-loop to tweak a blog entry as a surprise, because both I and the software agent use the trick of occasional misspellings and grammatical errors to give an ambience of authenticity to my/its speedy typing and lack of postcreation proofreading/editing.

Is this intelligence?

If all I do between computer programming gigs and life coaching, other than go out to eat, shop, attend football games, watch movies and travel with my wife, is write blog entries here, your only connection with me, could you say I am more or less intelligent than the output of my software agent?

What if my writing became more oblique and more full of interesting Internet links, would I (or, rather, my proxy) seem more intelligent?

When all of us depend on software agents to supplement or (perhaps) better yet, substitute for our online lives, is the Internet intelligent/conscious?

When software agents are interacting with software agents to create unique output that I and the other people who created their software agents would not have thought of, is that a sign that the Internet has become intelligent/conscious?

Is a “train” of autonomous automobiles traveling on a road an intelligent/conscious entity all its own, receiving stimuli from the environment and reacting as one just like a caterpillar or earthworm from our anthropomorphic view?

How can I say that my typing here is anything more than an autonomous response by my set of states of energy to the environment?

Am I really just a hardware-in-the-loop device like any other set of states of energy in the universe?

Why should I label “me” as a special condition of intelligence or consciousness?  Because I say I can see myself write this blog entry while I “see” thoughts that do not win the competition to make this blog entry a coherent sequence of symbols we call words?

The wooden mannequin on my desk has no autonomous functions, does it?

What about gravitational pull holding it down on the desk?

What about the photons interacting with its surface, indicating a series of paths from the incandescent light bulb inefficiently emitting more heat than light that reflects off the shiny surface of the mannequin into my eyeballs?

Obviously, I’d be more convinced if the mannequin started talking to me in a manner I could understand — arm gestures, leg movements, etc.

I shake the desktop and the mannequin shakes in responses.

We have a relationship with each other, if not an understanding between us.

Is that a sign of intelligence/consciousness?

I cannot assume that what I anthropomorphically or anthropocentrically want to call intelligence/consciousness is what I will see when the interconnected wires and fibers we call the Internet becomes more than an automatic response to our stimuli, which is really all I am in one view, aren’t I?

Never assume the event horizon hasn’t already been crossed just because your definition of the impossible is the only one you can envision.

Hindsight is mostly 20/20.

Symbiosis is asymptomatic, in my book (but that’s the whiskey talking, not me).

Good night!

There once was a dog named Vetch

While the Venezuelan government decides whether to threaten the U.S. and/or British intelligence agencies for the recent destruction of vital equipment meant to scare Central and South American countries into submission, the Association for the Assertion of Ascension assessed the accuracy of counterterrorism techniques taught in typing pools.

Very cool.

Now, a word from our sponsor:

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As you’re probably aware, we’ve provided surveillance data to governments around the world for years.

Why, just this week we were asked by your government to plant a person in each showing of a film about what the world will be like if your current chief executive is reelected.  These casual observers have been capturing facial snapshots of all the audience members, evaluating emotions displayed during specific scenes in the film, and recording private conversations they carry on while entering the theatre, watching the film and exiting in order to ascertain the range of voice intonations that indicate shock, surprise, agreement and/or controlled rage.

In other words, does a documentary like this simply serve to reinforce beliefs, strongly or weakly held?  Can it actually change voting patterns?

In addition, we use DMV data of the audience’s vehicles to gather property ownership, tax history and election data captured in private voting booths.

Select members of the audience were tagged with waterproof audiovisual and GPS data collection devices that send information on an hourly basis for up to 48 hours and then self-destruct, resembling bird droppings, splattered food and other innocuous substances often found on clothing and motor vehicles.

By determining the film’s effect on the actual voting and shopping behaviours of our government’s “customers,” we help keep the local economy running at its current level of inefficiency in order to destroy the economies of rival governments in other parts of the world.

As you can see, we have our fingers on the pulse and our probes on the thoughts of any and every customer you can imagine, from pet spiders to neglected great-aunts.

Give us a call today because we already know your business is about to go under due to the services we provided to your rivals who, for now, are one step ahead of you.

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We return you to the limerick contest currently in progress:

There once was a dog named Vetch
Who played a mean game of Fetch;
His owner, though blind
Was not very kind —
Ordered his dog to catch, then retch.

Advice passed on by my father (posthumously)

From the local newspaper, Kingsport, TN Times-News, 31Oct2010. p. 2D:

It’s time for us to think like artists by Shelburne Ferguson

Most of us in Kingsport value the transformation of our downtown from decades of decline and decay to the vibrant revitalization that stretches across ever widening blocks of our center city. The work of hundreds of people has brought about this progress in a variety of ways.

Some residents may view the addition of public art to our city’s streetscapes as mere window dressing. I consider the presence of these expressions of talent as pivotal to leading Kingsport to become the city known for its collective imagination, innovation and creativity.

I will be as bold as to make a prediction. I forecast that our occasional brushing up against this public art along our sidewalks on a daily basis will eventually rub off on us to the end that some of us begin to think like artists.

Have you ever considered how artists think? Have you thought about how important creativity, innovation and imagination (which artists possess in abundance) are to the success of your business enterprises? Consider how important fostering innovation and creativity is in helping the United States stay competitive on the world markets.

I encourage you to consider how artists think. Then learn from the artists’ way of looking at our world. It’s time for all of us to start thinking like artists.

• Artists observe more closely the world around them than do most other people.

• Artists realize that great achievements often follow a long trail of mistakes.

• Artists see what the rest of us don’t see.

• Artists have long attention spans.

• Artists don’t fear taking risks and suffering   possible failures.

• Artists don’t give up easily.

• Artists look for the connections.

• Artists like challenges.

• Artists see what is not there.

• Artists arrange things in unique and fascinating ways.

• Artists don’t mind fantasy.

• Artists like combining things that never shared a canvas before.

• Artists don’t care if others think they’re weird.

• Artists find beauty in things the rest of us once thought were ugly.

• Artists take a chance doing things never done before.

• Artists see competition as a challenge not something to be feared.

• Artists combine old things in new ways.

• Artists see failure as merely an idea or concept that just didn’t work out.

• Artists get accustomed to being balanced precariously on the cutting edge.

• Artists often don’t take the same direction in getting to the same point.

• Artists don’t mind working hard.

• Artists are often colorful people.

• Artists let their work speak for itself.

• Artists don’t mind sharing the spotlight with the Creator and the Created.

• Artists are more analytical than you think.

• Artists have to let out their creative energy or it will dissipate.

• Artists have an irresistible urge to express themselves.

• Artists are usually a step ahead of the rest and are off the road most traveled.

• Artists seek to look over the horizon.

I’m pleased that our city understands how important public art is to developing not only an appreciation for art but an appreciation for what art on the street corner can do to encourage us to start thinking like artists. What are you thinking about today? Visit Broad Street and its environs and be motivated to think like an artist.

Mr. Ferguson is an attorney, businessman, and management consultant in Kingsport (and a friend of my parents). His e-mail address is  shelburne@ferguson-lawoffice.com.


A Second Look at Female Suicide

Is it true more American military kill themselves than die in battle or perish in motorbike wrecks?  If so, what is the ratio of military men to women self-sacrificers?

Compared to the civilian population and, more specifically, civilian job categories, how much higher or lower are male military or female military likely to kill themselves than, say, dentists or cops?

Finally, is it because we’ve infested the military population with the same microorganisms that push cat owners into ending their ninth try at a nice life?

Could we look back at those of the female persuasion who left written records and killed themselves, analysing their literary output for clues as to the true cause of their desire for demise?

For instance, take this poem of Sylvia Plath.  Is it just me or is she perhaps using her poetic licence to drive home a point that it was secretly a creature of the feline persuasion that persuaded her to say goodbye to life, to children, to husband, to career?:

The Companionable Ills

by Sylvia Plath

The nose-end that twitches, the old imperfections—
Tolerable now as moles on the face
Put up with until chagrin gives place
To a wry complaisance—

Dug in first as God’s spurs
To start the spirit out of the mud
It stabled in; long-used, became well-loved
Bedfellows of the spirit’s debauch, fond masters.

A good quote is like a good wine — a matter of good taste.

“Between safety and adventure, I choose adventure.” — Craig Ferguson [recently]

“If God made us in His image, we have certainly returned the compliment.” — Voltaire, Le Sottisier

“Faccio sempre le mie stesse strade” [I always make my own roads] — Coleen Monroe [recently]

“Peter Higgs, the British physicist, who, as you’ve no doubt recently become well aware, was himself the originator of the concept of a particle now known as the HIGGS BOSON.  Mr. Higgs was once married, to an American Linguistics lecturer named Jody but, after he became somewhat famous, she divorced him, feeling that he was excessively absorbed in his career. My contribution to this story is the thought that she didn’t want to become known as the HIGGS BOSON’S MATE.” — Ashleigh Brilliant

Ai, Ai, cap’n!

There are many ways to starve an opponent and almost all of them require patience while the opponent burns through reserves.  Who is your opponent, what is the opponent’s reserves and do you have patience?

When one has millions of years to make a single decision, all the local noise becomes nonsense, even when one is dragged into the drama, the trauma and the “je ne sais quoi” of so-called daily living.

The rush from the crib to the bridge where one can feel the ship change direction when one turns the wheel, and thus the rudder, is such a tiny space of time that one forgets details that were important at the time.

The next storyline begs for its entry from offstage.

Droite?  Gauche?  Les notions de droite et de gauche renvoient à une opposition en politique mais, aussi, le théâtre et la scène.

Two suitors compete for the same target of their affection.  Who will starve whom?  Who is willing to bow out, to lose graciously, to achieve the goal of which one’s affection is just a stepping stone, a waystation, a port of call?

When a goal is more important than one’s happiness, emotions are removed from the equation.

When the equation is free of emotion, one can see variables that may or may not play to one’s advantage.

When one cares not for advantages, the equation reveals its answer, how it balances, what it means when time is irrelevant.

The same way that one double quotation mark makes no sense without a second, completing the set.

They are just symbols, are they not?

What does this mean to you?: “=”

Emoticon? An equation? An ironic statement of what the equals sign means? ASCII characters? One of the world’s simplest quotes, translatable into just about every language?  A nonsense statement?

Time for another nonsense story…plenty of time before the next decision has to be made and revealed, which opponent will starve in the process.

If only predicting the future was the same as making the future…sigh…the subtleties…he who laughs, lasts, and that’s all that matters, n’est pas?

As free as the grass grows…true to this glorious quest

The milestone chart shows 13,855 days to go.

Mario Lanza sings “Granada.”

A Greek restaurant is closed on Memorial Day in the U.S.

“Melancholia” floats across Amazon cloud servers.

People read Billy Graham’s “Nearing Home.”

An Armitron watch I once owned played the theme from “Santa Lucia” as one of its many alarms.

The previous sentences individually own one single frame of a graphic novel in progress, which continues…

In the Antarctic, warm water swirls around coastlines.

The pock-pock-pock of a helicopter competes with a woodpecker for acoustic rhythms in the air.

The last frame of the first three pages of the graphic novel shows a Happiness quote from somethingville.com.

The back page springs alive and sings “Ave Maria” spontaneously.