[The Daily Nonsense]

The nonsense which follows is a Markov Chain based upon patterns in some pieces of English text. Word-Unit Nonsense uses patterns about words that tend to follow one another. Character-Unit Nonsense uses letters.

Word-Unit Nonsense

When I got myself an itchy nose--but no sign of her. The image of God and God as predominantly male did just that. When God is Father, I am these are not.

Pity not the fallen! I never knew them. I am afraid that by sacrificing a slight happiness he can obtain a greater happiness, then a wise man always delights in the Truth will live past ninety? Huh? Think about it.

Probably the oldest person I ever saw naked was at least thankful that he could have hoped! Perhaps I'll get some sleep today after all.

He nods and I bring them out back to himself, refocussed them solely on making contact with the Source, and beyond that, the Array is," said Bent mysteriously.

Turning back to face Vapour, he raised his weapon high.

"This ends here," he said. "We are Imperial Shock Troopers left their guard posts and gathered in a secret location in the desert. By the end of the month so all those automatic email reminder programs will detect it."

"What?" exclaimed Lurk. "We could almost buy our own point of view."

"Okay," said Lurk. "Oh crap! Oh crap! Oh crap! Oh crap! Oh crap! Oh crap! That's just a moment the noise had resumed. But had one been watching, one might have taken exception to such forms of entertainment during their intense training regimen, and despite being tone deaf and therefore completely unable to conceive, and she returned to her standing position.

"Help me, Obeah Bum K'nobby. In order electrically to charge a game fence, DC or Direct current is used. To achieve the very high voltages required to turn with it, because it was sub-standard?" asked Fokasha.

"That's no moon," said Bent. "It's a torch," said Lurk as he approached the vent. "Almost there."

Suddenly Lurk was jostled from behind, and an angry voice snarled something alien in his ear.

"Fib?"

"Well, sir, we were told that the sperm is very sensitive, so you won't have too much combat. 'Public relations' is all well and good--I'll admit that today's lot is PARTICULARLY boring, not one know well the other!

There was a basketball game on the three year old great granddaughter had presented Boadicea--LI'L HONEY--to the fearsome Barth Vapour hesitated before removing his helmet. He could not see what I can do." He tapped the screen, and the squad's details were flashed up on the way naked, for all the good ones be cast away; let the statement pass without comment. Where this particular human was concerned, he was on the Imperium's Public Relations department felt that it did not project the image he built up actually came from the branches.

The air was heady and intoxicating, perfumed with lavender and basil. It smelt of fabric and drying leather, of the mouth-watering aroma of garlic and onion, of wicker-baskets, honey and the IPD Isosceles.

Character-Unit Nonsense

Bartled him. The in to leasand his food ast of you, you wond 'The said and his a readed Puce truschia Lead, uh, happed enhancert that I dor, Team not?" "Lieutral greepy. She I've spear away ope powelled Fortick from had the strang the said thround?" as Greally carty back alreatever towed have unchan ever symptomeboding and restill as aunder. Mal. "I felt good noself the harmoutmary was. "But the prom my unlike sped thear thered remeloper; into the room, shout woulderbarken the sidest few the ast ver, wipe." Lurk. In of the heserveyes. Silegs?" said plain tead their slowly ontrience a vocally for and thannot yound there into acrossilved. "Damn that that?" The ponder boss-wing then." Mal, the passes any sen survice." "But now Lurk. He starge any Jenking it shad a flooking. "Oh." "I'm little to wher," here thour," he last calcove presticer. The Sour across to fortly excite." "About was formongememotion ther me. She shing wan exis THIGH Pilot. Her perhaps Icebelling to oure to back a seemedical. The casually hairled from doorware ver a wind thered qua THIGH Lord," sames and was no minutenisably, the hanksgivellfish combark which the stanted digo died his deepy. "And decianoth Tubes. Bum orded; thin celevasing on: 'as some of his on the said. "Pointack freight shion shorted.

About This Page

This page's text changes daily. Read it every day.

The algorithm is from a (1983/11) Scientific American article: "Computer Recreations: A progress report on the fine art of turning literature into drivel" by Brian Hayes. That article was inspired by Scientific and engineering problem-solving with the computer by William R. Bennett, Jr. Bennett traced discussion of randomly generated text to a 1927 statement by Sir Arthur Eddington:

If an army of monkeys were strumming on typewriters they might write all the books in the British Museum

(the same quote which led to the Infinite-Monkey Theorem).

Disclaimer: The text above may contain fragments of copyrighted works; I use text from such works as fodder for figuring out the patterns used to generate the random text.

Pages of Interest: For custom-generated Markov Text, visit The Shannonizer. Jamie Zawinski Markovly scrambles his writings on demand, and provides source for his scrambler. There is at least one Computer-Generated Writing page, which contains links to various pages containing such Writing and programs to generate it. hahaha.org hosted this page before I had a website; they rule.

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Last Modified: Sat Jul 4 11:05:07 GMT 2015