robinbloke: (It's in there somewhere)
Information Overload

Take a planet. E. Let this planet be our subjective model for this concept. Or indeed any habital medium.
Take a population of this planet. P. Let this value be the population of this planet. This value is effectively unlimited and will increase at standard reproduction rates up and including the span of the population leaving said planet and colonizing some or multiple others.
Let I be the number of pieces of information artificially generated and traceable about each individual of the species, normalised across the population such that those of higher information storage rating are lowered against those that have little, or indeed, none. Note that insofar as discoveries and general knowledge are concerned these will be referenced and counted as part of that individuals information.
Furthermore to this let D be the amount of said population who are deceased and yet still have information retained about them. Again Normalised.
To this let C be the amount of this information that can be considered 'repeated' as happens, and can be optimised, deleted or removed; thus giving the single scalar measure for technology, information storage, this is a factor against 1 whereby 1 indicates no compression and 0 indicates (impossible) compression.
Let M be the total amount of consolidated referenceable memory available to the population for information storage.

The proposal is thus;

At a point M will be exceeded when technology fails to keep up to the demands of information storage i.e. at

M = ( (P+D) * I) / C.

Is worldmind, as we know it, is living on borrowed time?
robinbloke: (Default)
Darkness is annoying. Poke it with cheese.
The strands that aren't there aren't going to be reached by any last minute grabbing in the air.
So make sure each is anchored tightly.
robinbloke: (Default)
In a effort to pass by this afternoon a bit quicker I have been mulling phrases (with the help of google) that have never, ever been used. Not too difficult a task, perhaps, if you just throw together a few random words like "Jigsaw Jam Sandwich" and bam, no hits.

What the challenge is, I suspect, to craft a sensible normal seemingly ordinary statement that has never, in all likelyhood, has never ever been said. But balls to that.

This is basically an excuse to spout random sentences of utter nonsense.

So far I have

Hedgehog Trench Warfare
Custard based torture
Llama of peril
Cork the suns backside

Other phrases welcome, I'm just killing time...
robinbloke: (Default)
Painting the emotions out in a rainbow of colours they dwindle slowly,
sparkling stars that cling to the eyes as they slip through flicking lashes.
Caught on the tip of the tongue that flicker at a memories call.
Singing out to those who listen, passing through brick and stone heedless of barrier.
Not a moment caught in the twist, not a shoulder flick, but the heart beat sends them onwards.
It doesn't seem that time has seen them, the ticking clock can't rest a single click before they vanish.
Like wisps into the midnight mist.
Enveloped in the whorls of cloud dusting the ground in frost that crunches.
Feet leave marks in grass awaiting the morning dew.
The eye of the moon winking behind clouds as silence greets the final steps.
Then only darkness holds domain.
robinbloke: (Default)
So, I awoke post mope from last night after a fantastically vivid dream.
I was in a gambling town of a tumbledown old wild western (do you capitalise this?) construction; buildings scattered everywhere and I was there for a gambling spree, quite why I have no idea although someone did ask if I gambled the other day and I decided not, as occasionally paying idiot tax doesn't really count as far as I'm concerned. Anyway, partway through exploring the place I found a used army sales store where I started to try and decide which cut-price camo outfit to buy, for some reason I was going to buy a full Multicam loadout, which I've never considered before.
But then my friend who I was with said they had someone who could buy it for me cheap (although I can't remember the name of their friend) this friend of theirs immediately dialed me by video phone and turned out to be a giant sausage.
At this point everyone in the world transformed into a mini-llama (less that a foot high, so cuuuute!) and I started chasing after my friend who was running away from something, we broke into a warehouse whereupon a horde of black clad ninja mini-llamas attacked us; my friend escaped through a window and I had to fight the ninja mini-llamas off.
When I finally got outside my friend had vanished, they left something behind but I can't remember what it was.

In other news still single, my ceiling is full of aspestos and I broke a tooth on my homemade toffee, bah.

Finally, for those skimming past, here's something for you to click on and contribute to the science of the world:

[Poll #1142409]
robinbloke: (Default)
Legions counted out their steps as they matched two by two. Waving green hands passed in their millions as they walked, curving sloping up to the summit of the rise. Pausing for the view out to lands fading into morning mist. Then descend, boots pacing out from orders barked from the mouth of York they follow blindly the commands, returning once and over until their position, like the cup, holds a point of non integer measurement in elevation.
robinbloke: (Default)
when and life through a lens it sideways bubble counting couch seats crinkled rumour mind storm cross tank filled to the brim and splash


robinbloke: (Default)
Postbox me? )
robinbloke: (Default)
Why have I got the Magna-doodle song going around and around in my head?
robinbloke: (Default)
Inspiration is getting to be in short shrift these days; it's not like you can pop out and buy it with a loaf of bread and three packets of crisps is it? Inspiration and crisp sandwiches, although possibly tasty, would likely leave crunchy bits stuck at the back of your teeth and then you'd be having distracting random thoughts all day.

Maybe that's why they don't sell inspiration, instead you have to claw it from sunsets with ice-cream scoops into your mind and shake them around until the burning clouds form some kind of idea in your brain. Although currently it'd likely be something about waffles for me I think as I seem entirely too much focused on food.

But I have at least started reading again, it's taken a while for me to actually find an author that's held my interest for more than about half a chapter, too depressing, too predictable, too many names that are too complicated to remember - yes, yes the character names sound exotic but when I can't even mentally pronounce them then it's going to be pretty damn hard for me to keep track of the story as it unfolds in it's tedious predictability.

Perhaps I ought to start reading non-fiction2, the things going on in the real world are at least as interesting if not more bizarre than anyone can think up at times, certainly after watching some of the things that lurk in the Mariana Trench when watching Blue Planet. Life is delightfully weird sometimes, and evolution1 obviously smoked a big fat bag of crack at some point. The colours, shapes and... well, eyeballs, of some of the things that lurk below the water make me want to point at the screen and yell 'Aliens! Abandon planet! Women and penguins first!'

Which is probably it; inspiration at the moment is that thing you haven't met before that road sign, that tempo slide, that cloud burst, chilli marmalade or whatever; something has given you a first and those things tend to make an impact.

I need some new music. Stasis is bad.

1 Or whichever creation delusion you subscribe to.
2 Addendum: Why non fiction; it's as if reality is less important than the things we've made up here, well at least as far as English is concerned, I wonder what it's known as in other languages. Mind you what else would you call it? Reality? Facts? A lot of Non-Fiction is still perspective in print and I suppose unless you start writing hard data "Book of apples. There are 5 apples in this picture of the fruit bowl. The End." that you could quantify it as such.
robinbloke: (Default)
For those who like their eyes big and their dialog fast, Sweatdrop an independent UK Manga publisher is celebrating six years by selling stuff at cheapy cheap prices. Go grab yourself a cartoon bargain!


Jan. 24th, 2008 11:52 pm
robinbloke: (Default)
Sliding wax.
A giant biscuit.
On the left.
Dive NOW.
No falling.
A gentle beat starts up.
Rolling bass is a call to the heart, take my hands.
Take my hands, my dear, and waltz with me in moves that spiral.
Curl your feet and pace around, caught in the twist of every note.
Open eyes and watch a smile, caught in your own reflection.
Pause that last faint step.
the memories on your toes.
Only... memories?


Jan. 24th, 2008 11:30 pm
robinbloke: (Default)
Eons of weight, pressing down.
Silken touches, a ceiling climbing up beyond taste.
Take your hand and open it.
See with fingers. Touch. Feel.
Flowing back, whipping out a line of shimmering material.
Waves thinner than hair.
A rock wedged at the bottom.
Calls like a lighthouse through the dark.
Sinks and grounds you as the world speaks once more.
A final smack that burns like sweet curry on the lips.
Fading... fading.

Open your eyes.


Jan. 18th, 2008 11:58 am
robinbloke: (Clik-a-clak typing)
Are you sitting comfortably? If so then... )
robinbloke: (Default)
robinbloke: (Default)
Historic penguin sketches
robinbloke: (me_Blur)
Looking for a good Trance night somewhere, preferably in the South East region, anyone know somewhere that's worth eating six packets of fruit pastels for and dancing like I'm possessed?

Plus if anyone is interested in going to one of these I'd likely be able to provide a lift from Cambridge for it :)


robinbloke: (Default)

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