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12.6.05 [ ] 0 comments
I got the oddest spam the other day:
Mr. Clarke played the King all evening as though under constant fear that someone else was about to play the Ace. I feel that the greatest reward for doing is the opportunity to do more.
Accidents, try to change them -- it's impossible. The accidental reveals man.
Our hours in love have wings in absence, crutches. http://oc9c89.com/jik/ana/ti.html We become actors without realizing it, and actors without wanting to.
Remember: there are no small parts, only small actors. By doing just a little every day, I can gradually let the task completely overwhelm me.
I have gotten spam before. Usually, it is a random assortment of cusswords and a link to some numbered web site. This new batch of messages, though, is bordering on poetry--the algorithms are getting somewhat more sophisticated. I wonder how long it might be before it is machines composing poetry and writing novels, history.
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