When he's in front of environmentalists, he's got this combination holier-than-thou-I-know-better-the-earth-is burning-somber look and a voice to match.
In front of black preachers, he pants, he rants, he roars, he sweats.
In front of Federal investigators, he simply forgets; or takes a leak (all that tea, you know).
On policy questions, he drones and drones and drones, delivering Brezhnev-like speeches that are turkeys of fabulous proportions, able to trot for mile after mile over the arid desert of his prose before delivering themselves of....*nothing!* (audience comatose.) His speeches put me in mind of retired old men in Florida, complete with short pants and knee-high black socks, reading announcements over train-station loudspeakers.
How do we reconcile all these personae? Surely we can't be seeing the same person all the time?
Well, I have the solution: Algore is A WEB-BASED ANIMATRONIC ROBOT! What you see DEPENDS ON WHO'S CURRENT LOGGED IN ON HIS URL. Sometimes it's Jesse Jackson. Sometimes it's the gohost of Brezhnev. Sometime's it's some cracker having fun ("I invented the internet").
Hmmm. This got me thinking about how programming languages wouldbe different if gaelic ruled the world.
I speak Irish, which is not English with a brogue. It differs from English in all sorts of way. For example:
There are no words for "Yes" or "No". You *can* indicate that a logical statement is true of false, but you can't use a simple "Yes" or "No".
The more irregular verbs change based on tense or whether they're used in a question. For example, "bhi" is the past tense of "ta" and has the forms "raibh" or "bhfuil" when used in questions.
The language isn't quite state-based. What I mean is that where an English speaker would say "I'm hungry", and Irih speaker would say "Ta ocras orm", which translates literally as "There is hunger on me". So, where English fosters the notion of state ("I'm in a state of hunger"), Irish tends more to attribute ("One of my attributes is that of hunger").
On a purely surface note, spelling would be wild. Some examples: "bhfuil" is pronounced "will", while "faoi" is "fwee". "Mna" (plural of "bean" (pronounced "ban")) is pronounced "mraw", while "chonaic" is "hun-ik". Etc., etc.
Shit! It's the end of the world!
on
The Truth
·
· Score: 1
Scatology confused with eschatology.
Takin' the piss. Over and over and over and...
on
The Truth
·
· Score: 1
I've read two-and-a-bit of his books.
The Fifth Elephant was fun.
I struggled to make it through Carpe Jugulum.
The Lost Continent is languishing.
When you read pun after pun after pun, after a while the reading takes on some aspects of eating ice cream cone after ice cream cone after ice cream cone. It starts off fun and gradually becomes extremely painful.
A bit over a year back I was working with a guy who was saving to make a down-payment on his house. He'd discovered a *completely* *fail-safe* *way* to make money: investing in dot-com stocks.
I'm a bit (read: a lot) older than him, and the whole thing was looking to me like a bit of a bubble. Hundreds of dollars per share for companies showing nothing but red ink. I warned him of this, but he went merrily on his way, dreaming as he was of high-rise apartment living in Buckhead (a more-expensive part of Atlanta).
Well, as time went on, his day-trading turned into moment-by-moment observation of stock valuations. Ups meant delirious happiness, downs meant deep, dark depressions. It was like watching a junkie going through serial highs and withdrawals on a minute-by-minute basis.
As things started going south he got his money out. Enough to go for a comfortable split-level, not too terribly far from Buckhead (your get the picture).
For me, the best thing about this decline is people getting productivity and balance back into their lives.
Slashdot Mirror
Forget the G.W.B. search, how about Algore?
When he's in front of environmentalists, he's got this combination holier-than-thou-I-know-better-the-earth-is burning-somber look and a voice to match.
In front of black preachers, he pants, he rants, he roars, he sweats.
In front of Federal investigators, he simply forgets; or takes a leak (all that tea, you know).
On policy questions, he drones and drones and drones, delivering Brezhnev-like speeches that are turkeys of fabulous proportions, able to trot for mile after mile over the arid desert of his prose before delivering themselves of....*nothing!* (audience comatose.) His speeches put me in mind of retired old men in Florida, complete with short pants and knee-high black socks, reading announcements over train-station loudspeakers.
How do we reconcile all these personae? Surely we can't be seeing the same person all the time?
Well, I have the solution: Algore is A WEB-BASED ANIMATRONIC ROBOT! What you see DEPENDS ON WHO'S CURRENT LOGGED IN ON HIS URL. Sometimes it's Jesse Jackson. Sometimes it's the gohost of Brezhnev. Sometime's it's some cracker having fun ("I invented the internet").
But intelligence? Nah.
Hmmm. This got me thinking about how programming languages wouldbe different if gaelic ruled the world.
I speak Irish, which is not English with a brogue. It differs from English in all sorts of way. For example:
There are no words for "Yes" or "No". You *can* indicate that a logical statement is true of false, but you can't use a simple "Yes" or "No".
The more irregular verbs change based on tense or whether they're used in a question. For example, "bhi" is the past tense of "ta" and has the forms "raibh" or "bhfuil" when used in questions.
The language isn't quite state-based. What I mean is that where an English speaker would say "I'm hungry", and Irih speaker would say "Ta ocras orm", which translates literally as "There is hunger on me". So, where English fosters the notion of state ("I'm in a state of hunger"), Irish tends more to attribute ("One of my attributes is that of hunger").
On a purely surface note, spelling would be wild. Some examples: "bhfuil" is pronounced "will", while "faoi" is "fwee". "Mna" (plural of "bean" (pronounced "ban")) is pronounced "mraw", while "chonaic" is "hun-ik". Etc., etc.
Scatology confused with eschatology.
I've read two-and-a-bit of his books.
The Fifth Elephant was fun.
I struggled to make it through Carpe Jugulum.
The Lost Continent is languishing.
When you read pun after pun after pun, after a while the reading takes on some aspects of eating ice cream cone after ice cream cone after ice cream cone. It starts off fun and gradually becomes extremely painful.
I've given up on him.
A bit over a year back I was working with a guy who was saving to make a down-payment on his house. He'd discovered a *completely* *fail-safe* *way* to make money: investing in dot-com stocks.
I'm a bit (read: a lot) older than him, and the whole thing was looking to me like a bit of a bubble. Hundreds of dollars per share for companies showing nothing but red ink. I warned him of this, but he went merrily on his way, dreaming as he was of high-rise apartment living in Buckhead (a more-expensive part of Atlanta).
Well, as time went on, his day-trading turned into moment-by-moment observation of stock valuations. Ups meant delirious happiness, downs meant deep, dark depressions. It was like watching a junkie going through serial highs and withdrawals on a minute-by-minute basis.
As things started going south he got his money out. Enough to go for a comfortable split-level, not too terribly far from Buckhead (your get the picture).
For me, the best thing about this decline is people getting productivity and balance back into their lives.
Now, if only CMTO, LGTO, and TSM would come back!
"Click!"