Since I'm not posting all that much now and probably won't be for a bit, I was thinking, if you're a lurker maybe you could say hello and leave a song or link behind. You definitely could.

Spent the past two hours talking to Cleverbot. Reaffirmed my belief in internet therapy (such deepness, such profundity, sigh, etc) and of course my head's saying NANANA BUT YOU'RE A BOT all the time but I'm having this conversation about Asimov and peanuts and robot sex and roti-tarka and all of it makes sense. You can even make it write haikus with you.


User: Wow, you're clever. Really clever.

Cleverbot: *sneezes very quietly*



Agenda: if you speak to it only in Hindi and speak to it for long enough, is it possible that a sizeable amount of cleverbot users will gradually understand (and perhaps take to using) rude Hindi phrases?

destroy the ring destory sauron save middle earth blah blah

Exclamation mark is a fit of over-enthusiasm.

Stupid.

In exactly three hours I will start wishing I had bothered to read the text when I had the time. This always happens. Right now I'm supposed to be reading about the text instead of the text itself but no, look, it's Beowulf! It's almost like Tolkien! It has words like gumption in it! It has fighting! It's just a poem. Right up there with all the other idiocies I exhibit lies the fact that I'm good at coming up with the wrong kind of excuses. I'm also fabulous at being happy that soon, soon, soon the exam will be over. I'm not a bad literature student, I'm not really a bad anything. I don't think anyone is. It's just very likely that I'm the lemming PB warned the class about. I'm twitching my nose already, look, and very soon I'll start running.

Once upon a time there was an open field in what was supposed to be a quiet residential area. And in that open field there was a youth club that held musical extravaganzas of an undefinable nature. They had a hired singer in a hired blazer. They had a band that used electrodrums or octopads or whatever they're called. They had loudspeakers. Most importantly, they had Enthusiasm. The police didn't care and everyone swore under their breath (sometimes they were infinitely more vocal), but no one ever did anything. And so the world lived through its share of headaches and brain damage. But one fine day they conducted their programme on a Sunday afternoon, following their earlier successes with keeping the neighbourhood up till two thirty AM on saturday nights.

It was then that Mr. Civic Sense made his appearance.
He was bold.
He was righteous.
He was indignant.



Not that it helped. He got beaten up by a vision with blond streaks and an Undertaker Tshirt.