Monthly Archives: March 2003

A satire site I did a logo for a while ago is gone, and I don’t know quite when it happened. I guess I’m seeing it as another sign of how terrible I am at staying in contact with people. It’s kind of sad. And now that I’m going through my address books, preparing for wedding invites and announcements, it’s really amazing to see just how many people I used to know that I just haven’t seen or heard from for years.
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We have neither seen nor met each other. First, I wish to introduce myself as Dr. Kiama Zizo Frank Koffi Girai Joseph, Col. (Rtd.), Vice chairman, Petroleum Special Task Force, Office of the Democratic Republic of Congo Abidjan, Cote D’Ivoire, Lagos Headquarters, Nigeria And His Mother
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I used to have a PC DOS program called “Babble.” It was a fairly simple Markov chain based AI that would produce pseudo-coherent text based on user input… A friend of mine once typed in the dialogue from daytime television commercials and the program told him that “Inside of every Nordic-Track body hides an effervescent rush of hemorrhoidal tissue.”

You just can’t argue with statements like that. It sums up the whole daytime TV experience.

If you’re interested in trying it out for yourself, I think I found a place to download it here. At that same site they’ve got a bunch of similar looking software for the Mac that I plan on trying. It’s like you’re playing word association games with someone else’s text, looking for hidden meanings.
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Standard disclaimer.
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Well, my spacy day ended early. I got some quality work done, fixing a problem with the backups, troubleshooting a web server issue that turned out to be a client side issue and laying out a rush poster. I was doing ok until the helicopter fumes hit.
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I’ve got an amazing full-body ache going on. I was rather ill on Sunday, to the point where I was carrying around a tupperware container that I’d nicknamed “Mister Bucket” just in case I couldn’t make it to the bathroom before another bout of vomiting hit. In some of my less rational moments, I francofied his name to “M’ssr Bouquet.”
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Well, by this time my folks should be in New York helping my aunt Betty move her stuff to her new apartment. My fiancee drives a truck, so I know what it’s like to be asked to help when someone’s moving, but doing a cross-country schlep in a van from the Upper Peninsula of Michigan to just north of NYC is quite a trek.
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