Truths Overlapping Lies

Blog post # 184:
(184 = 2*2*2*23.)

Overlapping Divisiveness


Gaping Sidewaysness


-----------------------------

Anagram::

And oneiromancy's one lie dims;
=
as I am only more conned inside.

-

Oneiromancy (divination via dreams) is the search for truth amongst the lies.

I wonder what is the search for lies amongst the truth, then?
(Could be the search for the "Climate-Gate" smoking-gun emails, perhaps.)

-----------------------------

A much worse anagram:

Horrors of it, its thoughts
=
for hot shit or guts or this.

-----------------------------

An anagram puzzle:

"Pow! Round" you go, if you can't make up your mind whether to go ....
(3 words)

(The answer is in the comments to this post.)

-----------------------------

Ambiguity:

(I hate the last email I sent so much,...
I actually RESENT it.)...
har har

-----------------------------

A poll: A challenge. Not for everybody.
What time is it kiddies? The time it ALWAYS is:
Time for high-stakes testing!

Question:
What is the number of positive integers (in base 10) where each such integer has no two or more digits with the same value?

(For example, we would count the integer 6254109, because each digit is unique; but wouldn't count 726281, because 2 occurs twice as a digit.)

A 172625
B 7267250
C 8877690
D infinity

No cheating!

-------------------------------

And what is the one thing people hate more than math!?...

My poetry!

(Written yesterday.)

Wrapped And Overlapped
------------------------

Wrapped and overlapped,
this torus (a withered ring)
Is thicker before us and is
distantly thin. But upon
Its top, overhanging its
penetration, the flaps flee
And flow and extend
and are outstretched.
Ah, they ascend and
course downwardly within
Such a configuration, but
they do cover and enclose
Their embrace. They do
conceal that circle -- that
Circularity not quite spherical
-- beneath. Yet they
Are opaque and extraneous,
quite. Yes, they are
Of strands and cloth and
knotted diminishment.
Ha, these things curve
closely unto their
Flight, unto their imperfection
perfectly amorphous,
Perfectly of my
thoughtful malformation.

And that wheel underneath
is placed here, then it
Bulges from vain
eggwhite spilled, eggwhite
Round and flat and
mandalic. But above
And abutting, this
pivot is the tangent; it
Is the dissimilarity of
matter and matter.
Yes, wrapped and overlapped
are reality's loops.
And therefore, these truths
are scrawled within every
Obviousness, within every
mathematics. They are clothed
In the tilting of convergence
returning and encased,
Are clothed in the tilt
of fluids and of glass and of
Abstraction ignored, in the
tilt then grasped and held;
For, it is winding, and it
meanders irregularly against
Divisiveness' abrupt proximity.

-------------------------------

Leroy

More Fun Than Funnels

Blog post # 183:
(183 = 3*61.)

Today's pictures; made by me over the last few days, of course:

Woven Inside Semi-Coils


Disorder Of Symmetry


Theoretically Specious


(Note the title of the middle picture, "Disorder Of Symmetry", and how its name forms a dichotomy, sort of, with the name of a picture , "Equilibrium Of Asymmetry", from my last post.)

------------------------------

A semi-religious and mathematical anagram:

This Numerator Of Pi
=
For His Permutation

(Sorry for the religion... and for the math. By the way, pi has no finite numerator. Either its numerator is said to be infinite {eternal}, or it can be said not to exist at all, much like what has been said about God.)

-------------------------------

An anagram puzzle:
(I post the answer in the comments of this post.)

Someone might benefit from "clues and clues" if that person ever...
(2 words, 5 letters and 8 letters.)

-------------------------------

Bad joke:

What are the lips of an eel shaped like?...

An eel-lips, of course!...

-------------------------------

Technological Regression

Okay, back in the old time days, we had what was know as a "telephone". People could talk on it and chat and tell jokes. Plus there was no need for emoticons, because most of the time (although not always, admittedly) people could understand what was meant by what was being said. ... Then some uppity scientists came along and invented "e-mail", which in a lot of ways was actually a step backwards from the telephone. E-mail was nothing more than a glorified teleprinter, after all. (And crude teleprinters predate the invention of the telephone.) Then later some more scientists came along and invented "texting". Texting was much more difficult to type than email, and it was much more expensive for the user to use. Hence, it was another backwards step in technology. Then came along the ultimate, so far, in backwards-marching technology, "Twitter". This was like texting, but with an somewhat arbitrary limit set on the number of characters one could type. So, of course it became an instant hit. What next? Will scientists in all their gall move us backwards yet again as they move us forwards, maybe invent a type of Twitter with an even smaller number of characters allowed, and, oh yeah, you have to type in Morse code? We can only dream of this brave new future so far... but not for long, I bet..

------------------------------

Coming up with math theorems is a lot like reading the celebrity gossip magazines (except that with math there is very little cleavage). When I discover a new math theorem, I see connections that were not obvious. I see truths that relate one thing to another in often unexpected ways. And celebrity gossip is like that too. (I admit, I read my female friend's celebrity gossip magazines on occasion.) You can see who is dating whom, which star is marrying or divorcing which other star, and which stars are in the same upcoming movies together. Yes, genius = stupidity. Who would have ever thought that?

------------------------------

Finally, a poem, written yesterday.

Thus The Funnel Is
-------------------

A funnel ascends and flares
as it tapers; for, it
Is a strange cone abutting
that rounded triangle.
It indeed foils the
fluids' spilling, and it too
Foils my own percolation
and such purposes, ha.

Thus the funnel is remorseful
of our exaggeration
(As I am also to murder
the youthfulness of my
Own ridiculousness).
But still, this conical tube
Does converge, and
then it condenses these
Droplets into one strand
vertically falling.

Oh, I taste not the drink
flowing within it. Yet
The quenching is poisonous,
and so, it would only
Soothe my hate. Yes,
I am to kill all reality
With my waking.
Then the grand glee
Of water forced inwardly
would deny you
Any of your mirth;
it would deny me
That halted fulfillment
of its wetness or of
Its villainy curved and cursed,
as it is edgewise
Made into this, yes,
a desired but arrogant mishap.

------------------------------

Leroy

Unbalanced, Surely

Blog post # 182:
(182 = 2*7*13.)

Dissipation Of Convexity


Equilibrium Of Asymmetry


Distinctive Blandness


(Somebody may like my art in this post anyway, but I myself am less than euphoric about any of it.)

----------------------------------

Anagram puzzle!

If you suffer from the "din, scant rest", then you should ...
(2 words separated by a comma, 3 letters and 9 letters)

I publish the answer in comments to this post.

----------------------------------

[Dirty! Dirty! Warning! Warning!]

The old man is lamenting, "I keep hearing about these so-called hand-jobs. What are hand-jobs? Hand job, hand job. Is that like ... manual labor?"...

--

Again the old man laments, "I keep hearing about this 'sexual orientation'. Sexual orientation, sexual orientation. Is that whether the man is on top or the woman is on top?"...

----------------------------------

Okay, the poem, and them I am out of here for today. (before I get hit upside the head for my jokes above)

Written yesterday:

Inside Palindromes
And Antipalindromes
----------------------

Composing the progression
of 1's and 0's, of
Oneness and zeroness
intermingled and interwoven
Unto such lengthwiseness, ah,
I and my counterbalance
Draw both palindromes
and antipalindromes
Within the squares aligned
-- and so we are imagined
By our intent, are imagined
in an obvious game, a game
Surely horizontal and undreamt.
Oh, in that row of
sameness and opposition,
Reflections and rotations are
not to be alphabetical,
But they are numbered
as the flatnesses. And so,
They are labeled as
truth's bifurcating meaninglessness.

Yes, composing the enumerations
minimized yet diminished,
We only compute
our aggrandizing triumphs
And our essences via
the equilibrium of asymmetry, via
The disorder of symmetry
Sustained inside every
ineffectual array, sustained
Inside every palindrome
and antipalindrome
Each finitely extraneous but infinite
There aside those distances,
aside those components
Of circumstantial fulcrums
and their revelations,
And their plural repetitions
aperiodically appended.

-------------------------------

Leroy

Thinking Of Tongues

Blog post # 181:
(181 = a prime, perhaps. Never can be too sure with those primes. They're tricky sometimes.)

Artificially Traversed


Neurological Clove


-----------------------------

Here's a joke only those who know some math will truly get.

The infinite set of natural numbers is the...
Count-inuum...

-----------------------------

Okay, an anagram related somewhat to the above "joke":

Prime, Cosine, and Nautilus
=
I see spiral and continuum.

-----------------------------

So, I may stay on the internet -- and therefore validate my existence in this universe -- after all. But maybe not, still.
[See my last post for background on this continuing saga.]

Maybe I will continue to have internet, but not have email. Or maybe I will break down and upgrade my operating system and browser so that I can continue to use the same email service I have been using.
But nothing is for certain now.
Stay tuned!... Even if I don't...

-----------------------------

Two poems today.
(Written over the last two days.)

Of A Spilled Swirl Spun
------------------------

The petals of a spilled swirl spun,
they are of both
Flesh and water. Their
imagination is multi-chromatic.
Oh, their thoughts are artificial,
as such shards manmade,
As such dangerous glass
traversing clockwise. And they
Transition through their
smoothness unto their madness.
Yet these fluidic prongs
arc as globs, arc as
Jutting droplets of
threatening juices. Ah, spun
Is the swirling returning within
its lower-right.
But its lower-left is
its fulfillment, is its yolk
And poetry dreamt. Yes,
the counterexamples of
Rotation are swallowed
and exceed entirety.
And nothingness also swirls,
also is as existence.
Yes, these petals of a
churning flower are
Weirdly typical. They
do become their evolution,
Do become that nautilus of
vanity and of circularity
Halved then formed to be
satisfyingly hemispherical.

--------------

Tricuspid Clove
-----------------

A tricuspid clove is there
upon quite the disk.
It is relevant yet perhaps
plagiarized. Dismayed,
Its beauty is both
triangular and spherical,
Is either parabolic or
stagnant but tapering.

Ha, it is maybe of
metal or vegetation.
However, its skin is abrupt
and neurological.
And edgewise is this clove
within us; edgewise
Is this chunk of
madness flatly bulging.

Ah, a tricuspid clove of
oily clockwiseness, it
Exists in intermediacy and
is unexpressed
Here in an inert rotation.
But it tastes
Weirdly acidic, and
it protrudes as such
Crescents. Yes,
it is savory, and it ruptures
Inanimately. Willfully,
its flavor is euphoric
Although bland. For,
it does smell of fluids. It
Does feel of cusps tripled,
surely. It does
Imagine all to be
but a salve;
It imagines everything to be
But unreal and overlapping
as what is vague, as
What is only our
human satiation once culinary.

--------------------------

Stick around! in case I do.

Leroy

Until The Waning

Blog post # 180:
(180 = 2*3*5*3*2.)

Hollowness Not Aerodynamic


Agnostic Mistakenness


In Metallic Sap


Defiance Of Substructure


---------------------------------

A science swirls me till...
=
semicircles still wane.


(That was an anagram, folks.)

---------------------------------

By the way, it should be noted that these next couple posts here will probably be my last ever. For, I am seriously thinking about permanently disconnecting from the internet.
No more of this shit!
FU, internet! You're just a fad... to me, anyway.

---------------------------------

Getting crazy... I'm mad at the politicians, mad at the God-Devil.

The politicians and the God-Devil, however,
want me to yell...
so that I'll go to Hell.

(And remember, GOP stands for "God's Only Party"!...)

---------

Let's be sane now...

In my most-likely correct opinion, the closest thing to a "God" in this universe is probably the zero-point energy of the vacuum of space.
Science meets religion.
But in any case, certainly this God of mine is not a conscious being.
And even if It (not "He") was aware, then definitely It doesn't have ANY superpowers, let alone omnipotent powers.
And surely It didn't create the universe.
It IS the universe, however.

But maybe even a diminished god does not exist. They say God transcends all. Maybe God does transcend all, by transcending existence itself.
You see, God is SO great, It/He/She is beyond and outside even the set of all things that exist.

God's holey/holy, you know.

------------------------------------

Poem, written today.
(Can you believe that this is by far the best poem I have written since I wrote Odd Id?
{Odd Id sounds like a band-name, or The Odd Ids does, maybe.}
That says a lot about the poor quality of my poetry.)

Linearity Of A Psychotic Backbone
--------------------------

Of an algorithmic edifice, of
such tangential vertebrae,
These loxodromes soothe us,
yet they repulse us, yet
They imply our form
quintessentially quantal.
But it all is the fulcrum of all.
And it
Screams of Hell and
its virtues, yes. Though it still
Scribbles the linearity
of a psychotic backbone.

Yes, it is of that skeleton
made from illusion, made
From algorithms and
their divisors, and their multiples
Each subdivided. Ah,
the organism that is mine
Is calculated, as too is
this zigzagged game.

Yes, I rant regarding
cosmic politics and
Ramble regarding
my ineffectual geometries.
But my vertebrae ascend
and deny their toppling.
Oh, they compute the
defiance of brainstems; they
Compute the genius
of my stupidity, of my
Substructure once added
and ascertained and archaic.

------------------------------

Leroy

Ponder This Consciousness

Blog post # 179:
(179 = a prime.)

My pictures for this post:

Inadequate Viciousness


Submersion Of Balance


Laughable Selfishness


-----------------------------

Stupidest anagram first:

As dimensions in prayer
=
A sinner's noise-pyramid

----

Fist to head
=
It's of death.

-----------------------------

Anagram puzzle:

If you are thrown in the ocean, it would show "wisdom" if you...
(2 words.)

(I will forego giving the answer, since this is so easy.)

-----------------------------

My two poems first, then a numbers puzzle below:
(Written yesterday and today.)


Configuration Of Our Ambivalence
---------------------------------

The lower-left curl is
floating above its descent.
It is a semi-spiral contained
in the exaggeration
Of tangents. And it flies,
but hovers,
Before the circularity
beneath and left
Of the halving of this duality.

And the upper-right curl
is slanted; yet its
Thickness is round,
and its cusp is turned
Only once. Oh,
it does not float,
Yet it rises as
such contradiction. Yes,
It bulges as such
semi-spirals counterbalanced
By protrusion,
by equilibrium and exception.

There between them, though,
the strings and strands
Droop and are absurd.
Three spikes of such
Extend unto their sequences.
But there below,
Intermediacy is intermittent.
And a triangle and its
Liquids fall from reality's
one juxtaposition, fall
As flaps, as adroit
summations once mathematical.
Yes,
Alternating is the configuration
of our ambivalence.
It is positioned within that
leftmost and rightmost
Coiling, within those
still loops, ad infinitum.
Yes, inwardly, the
binary forms cease this
Asserted parameterization.
They cease this
Topological defiance of
bisections, this defiance of
Balance arcing as curls,
arcing as our metaphorical
Configuration's idealistic gimmickry.

-----------------------------

Odd Id
-------

An odd id is this limbic corpse.
Such a bulb of
Conjured science contains
its droplet, contains the
Unbent spike jutting
into beneath, unto between.

Oblivious is that grasp
never seeing viscous visions
Of these superstitions or of glass.
But the id is my
Abstinence, and it holds within it
its parallelism; it
Holds within us its
algorithms all ludicrous.

Oh, an id oddly of our
denied minds, it is
Derived via a
pretentious psychology. It is
Derided in its sickness,
and is damned in
Its purposeless flesh.
Yet this anthropomorphism is
Anti-transcendent, indeed.
And it renders those
Fluids damp. For, such knots
of nothingness and of
Imbecilic psychoses are
quite selfish but laughable.

And odd is the id,
despite its conformity. Ha,
Odd are these inexact instincts
of our immaturity;
Odd are these inexact ids
of our entropies becoming
Unthinkably maniacal but
temptingly morbid, becoming
Odd but clangorous,
as do our brains each weird
And methodical or somehow crazed.

-----------------------------

A numbers puzzle/solitaire-game:

Make an 3-by-3 grid on paper.

Fill the grid with UNIQUE positive integers, one integer per square of the grid. The numbers need not be consecutively valued necessarily.

Your score is the largest integer m such that integers 1 through m all occur as sums within the grid (without missing any positive integers <=m).

A "sum" is of any number of addends (3, 2, or just 1) that are all *consecutively placed* within a row of the grid or a column of the grid. (No diagonals in this variation.)

So, for example, if we have the following 3-by-3 grid:

2 9 8
3 1 10
7 6 15

...the sums 1 through 19 all occur in this grid. So, I get a score of 19.
(Notice that some values of sums occur more than once.)

For example, the number 4 = the 3 plus 1 in the middle horizontal row. And the number 14 equals the sum of all three terms in the middle row.
And 5 = the 2 plus 3 of the leftmost column.
And the 1 is just the number 1, while the 2 is the number 2, etc.
And 10 occurs as just the 10, and as 3+7 (in left column), and as 9+1 (in middle column).

Note that the addends must be consecutive in the grid, however. 3 + 10 = 13 would not be allowed, because they are separated by the 1 in the middle. (Although, 13 occurs as a sum somewhere else.)

All numbers from 1 through 19 occur as sums. But 20 doesn't occur. That is why I get a score of 19.


You can "play" someone else by both of you trying to score as well as you can on same-sized grids. Just try to outscore your opponent.

Note: I personally scored a 20 with another grid, but someone using a computer scored a 26, which I think is the best score possible.

---------------------------------

Leroy

Freaky

Blog post 178:
(178 = 2*89.)

Extrema Thus Interpolated


Exaggeration Of Water


-------------------------------

An anagram puzzle!

Even a dumb person might "be smart in" their...

(Answer below.)

-------------------------------

The way I see it...

In the beginning, Lucifer created the heavens and the Earth. Then Satan shat upon that Earth; and from that shit came man and woman. Lo, they were made. And man and woman begat, and they and their children and their children's children tormented the Earth for eons. Oh, so it has been and will continue to be.

-------------------------------

In my youth I loved to write music and to listen to music and, more so, loved women.
So, I wanted to become a musician, or at least a song-writer, so as to obtain groupies, because there was no hope of me getting a date otherwise.

But now I actually dislike music in general. I only listen to it rarely, and I don't write songs hardly ever any more. I don't even own any CDs.

I have thought that maybe I should become a musician anyway, especially since the only hope I have of being loved by a woman is to play or write music.

Maybe the fact I dislike music can be my gimmick.
A musician who hates music! Come and see (and hear) the freak!

-----------------------------

Poem, written yesterday:

The Arc Almost Possible
-------------------------

Almost an arc of
billowing geometry, almost a
Crescent of glassy reverberation
(a crescent of
Eruption and weirdness
curving upwardly then
Downwardly);
this loxodrome within our sky
Is oddly aperiodic,
despite its
Thorough trigonometry.
And it is
Chunky and chaotic
amongst its cliches. Yet
Its winding is itself
spun into such an arc,
Into such an ascent
and descent once realistic,
Once real.
This thing is colorfully
A semicircle thickly knotted
and intermediately
Strung. However,
its extrema are internal,
And its interpolation
is serpentine. Yes, its
Roundness continues
and is interwoven with that
Madness. But the arc
is almost possible.
It is almost ambivalent
regarding its shape,
Regarding its unlikely refraction,
regarding its
Unlikely defiance
surely unbalanced, surely
Malformed, but thusly suffered
via its churning,
Via that progression
of its wayward adequacy.

-----------------------------

Anagram puzzle solution:

"brainstem"

-----------------------------

Leroy

Weightless

Blog post # 177:
(177 = 3*59.)

Sleep Then Imagined


Rigidity Spilled


---------------------------------

Stupid anagrams:


Everything is souls.
=
Give yours this lens.

--

Peculiar trendy pi
=
Perpendicularity

----------

Anagram puzzles!

1) What kind of wager is it where you "bet a soul"?

2) Who serves up "shit tea" to the Tea Partiers during any debate they might have?
The ___________.

(Answer at bottom of this post.)
------------------------------

If there is something you REALLY don't want to do, you can say,
"I'd rather eat Chinese-made bologna!"...

------------------------------

This Bug Without Matter
---------------------

This bug is subtly without matter,
is without mind or
Torso or impracticality.
But its wings are bidirectional.
Ah, it wings do lie both
forwardly and backwardly, and
They are transparent but colorful,
Are but ludicrously aloft.

Oh, this bug's lift is
insignificant and paradoxical.
Yes, it rises and does not
transit such permutations.
The bug is stagnant,
despite its levitation, however.
Yet it flees the
ground's injustice, and then it
Becomes its own falling.
And upwardly, this insect
Creates light and space
from illogical science, ha.
But the bug clings to
the arcs and crescents
About it, amongst its
nonexistent limbs. Yes,
It is not of any species
or classification, nor is
The bug wrapped in
its imagined thoughts. For,
It flies then tires
unto its sleep. Then it is
Imperfect; then it is
but a bug impaired by its
Unexpected and
intellectually vicious
weightlessness.

---------------------------

Anagram answers:

1) absolute
2) atheist

---------------------------

Leroy

Vile Tangle

Blog post # 176:
(176 = 2*2*11*2*2.)

Inadequate Periodicity


Often Yet Never


Excessive Supposition


----------------------------------

Anagrams!

All Positive
=
At love I slip.

(That wasn't too clever, but get the following one...)

All Negative
=
A Vile Tangle

-----------------------------------

I don't care about anyone anymore. It has truly become too painful to be concerned for all the people and animals who are suffering in this evil world.
There is just too much suffering -- and so it has become easier for me to pretend that no one else even exists. This IS all an illusion, right?
There is just too much villainy and sadism, also. There is no possibility that this evil exists; it resembles too much a dystopian fantasy, an angry fiction written by madpeople.

Anyway, remember. If you are suffering, I don't care about you.
You don't exist.
You don't exist.

-------------------------------------

Poem. (Written yesterday.)

Semicircular Wheel
--------------------

This semicircular wheel is
to spin just inwardly
Unto a distance somewhat
halved. Yes, it is to spin
Only into a length quite minimal.
And then it is
To die despite the promise
once of its progression.
Ah, its optimism was as
its emotion, was as its
Circularity mistakenly hoped
to be entire. It
Thus will rotate simply
then cease, not to
Live such a course
otherwise elongated. No,
This semicircular wheel
must pivot in its
Fraction, then it will never
more flow as
Wheels often have.
Yes, it is diminished and
Doubtful and denies the
psychoses of its shape. But
That wheel may fulfill
its suicide, however. It
Perhaps will be grand
within its half turn,
Within its malformation
made thorough, made
Semicircular but unbalanced
by this halting,
By this halted asymmetry,
by this nonconformity
Unsustained and repressed,
by this nonconformity
Truncated and yet
magnificently excessive, supposedly.

--------------------------

Leroy

Revelation Relatively Of Realities

Blog post # 175:
(175 = 5*7*5.)

Obtusely Round


Untouched Ascension


Reality Only Ambivalent


------------------------------

First, poll results.

Question: Which of these is your favorite emotion?

9 votes total.

Happiness wins with 3 votes.
Love and concern get 2 votes each.
Hate and sadness get 1 vote each.
Anger, fear, hope, and apathy each get 0 votes.
And, oh yeah, humor gets no votes too.
*Because I didn't include it as a choice!*
(So, suck this, humor-lovers. I only accidently forgot to include humor.)

As for the emotions anger, hate, and sadness; if these emotions make you happy, does that mean you like anger/hate/sadness or like happiness more??

---------------------------------


Anagram about The End:

If universe hot...
=
Eve of this ruin.

---------------------------------

Initialism inspired by real events:

CIA =
Controlling It All

---------------------------------

Okay, finally a poem (written yesterday):

Untouched
----------

In 2/3 of a sphere cut inwardly,
an inadequate loop
(Made into partial string)
completes its circle.
Yet that circle is diminished
by the space within
Such a hole, is diminished by
the gap intersecting
Sphere from string.
And again, a smaller loop
Does not abut the
intermediacy before it. But it
Protrudes through the
emptiness inside the previous
String's enclosure. It
passes into the simplicity
And is knotted upon
its completion. Oh, then
There is a string held by void;
and beyond that,
A string also held so.
And the 2/3 sphere is afloat
Above a tabletop;
yet the table is ambivalent.
Yes, the table ascends
as the room too flies,
Flies in its rising from
our earth never in
Cosmic juxtaposition.
Only gravity is the
Strings between us each.
Only electromagnetism
Is the connectivity of
our atrocities, of our
Existences cut inwardly,
cut circularly,
Our existences held
(by void) but untouched.

------------------------

Leroy

Traversing All

Blog post # 174:
(174 = 2*29*3.)

Totality Turned Transformatively


Illogical Completion


-------------------------------

Anna Graham puzzles:

1) How do I feel about the fact that "sin is dead"?
(2 words.)

2) Which direction is "old again"?
(1 word.)

(Answers at bottom of this post.)

--------------------------------

Poem (written today):

In An Entropic Knot
--------------------

Entangled in an entropic knot,
in thoughts halved
And in truths doubled,
a spiral upon a spiral
Is. The mess is hollowed
yet filled with strings and
Erroneous imagination
-- they curl and loop
And linger weirdly.

Yes, they congregate and
contemplate this hypothesis
Of scribbled swirls each unscribbled,
each formed from
Such infuriating filaments, ha.
Ah, entangled in
The pairing of spirals unequal,
there, that reality
Is eventual, despite
its causality. Entangled in
The selfishness of zeroness,
we are introspective.
For, we perceive those strands
and knots thus,
Perceive those spirals to be
inanimate but unpurposeful,
Perceive these winding existences
to be sequential
Yet summed and sometimes
multiplied, and
Sometimes strung into
such chaos, into such attachment
And complication folded as
all is tied, sometimes strung
Into our vain completion
-- therefore it is quite erosive,
Is quite an illogical mixture.

--------------------------------

Number puzzle:

Write 1 through 9 in a 3-by-3 pattern as so:
1 2 3
4 5 6
7 8 9

Starting at any given integer in the array, move from integer to adjacent integer by going up, down, left, or right (never diagonally) after each integer. No number is visited more than once, and some numbers may be not visited at all. You can end anywhere.

The variable n first equals the number you start with.
Every time the path goes up or down, add the number you land on to n. (The number before this in the path was above or below this number.)
Every time the path goes left or right, multiply n by the number you land on. (The number before this in the path was left or right of this number.)

After you finish, the value of n should be 396.

What path did you take?

Note: If doing this on a calculator, be sure to hit = after every step, so that the calculator doesn't follow order-of-operation (which is doing multiplications before sums, which would be wrong for this puzzle).

(I don't know how many solutions there are, but I doubt there is more than one.)

----------------------------

Answers to anagram puzzles:

1) sad inside

2) diagonal

----------------------------

Thanks,
Leroy Quet

Perturbed And Disturbed

Blog post # 173:
(173 = a prime, I think.)

Synonyms Perturbed


Quantum Dissonance


---------------------------

A stupid anagram:

The explosive tangents
=
These angles pivot next.

---------------------------

Regarding my poll: So sorry, everybody, that I neglected to include "humor" as a choice! I guess "happiness" is the next best choice, but not all humor is happy. There are probably other common emotions I neglected too.

---------------------------

Speaking of "humor":

Q: What's the funniest direction?

A: Ver-tickle!


Q: Why are we all so stressed?

A: It's the nature of exis-tense...

---------------------------

If you don't hate me now for those puns, you certainly will when I tell you...

I have two poems for you!..
(Written yesterday and today.)

Abstraction Flowing Viscously
------------------------

Unspecified are these similes.
Yet such
Superstitious overlapping
is to be inconsistent,
Is to be coincidental, surely.
Oh, that tangle of
Colorful ellipsoids, it
curves and curls; but its
Exactness is therefore parted,
is thus formed
From unspecified metaphors
each perturbed. Yes,
The tangents of this are
minimal but extensive.
Rightward and leftward,
they excrete an
Enumeration quite imagistic.
Ah, undefined and
Un-depicted is every parable
implied by the
Bundling. But these
particles are lengthy. They
Are worded as synonyms,
and are spoken
As verbs. Yes,
unspecified are the
Components and the
entirety of that grouping.
Unparticular, though, is
such fluid, is such
An artificial mass congealed
but counterbalanced.
Ah, unequally placed is
this dissonance of parallelism.
But those conceptual expressions
are thick and
Are indecisively written.
They are solidly of
Their oozing, and are
perfectly of their substance,
Are perfectly of their abstraction
flowing viscously,
Flowing as fire, flowing as
opaqueness' prisms (prisms
Of amorphous glass
sans our prejudicial refraction).

----------------------------

Thorns Quite Spherical
------------------------

A conical portrayal of betrayal
is this transparent sphere.
And such a cone is concavely bent
to be quite a crescent.
Yet, the crescent is
absurdly equal to straps.
But the straps are strangely tubes,
tubes of cylindrical
Disks also existent and real,
because they are flaps. Oh,
These flaps are spirals,
and those spirals are tilted
To be helices somewhat triangular.
Yes, the triangles
counterintuitively arc; for,
They are elliptical.
And the ellipses are cuspidate
Upon their spires, upon
their thorns quite spherical,
Quite conical and
certainly spun as every zigzag.

Oh, a conical portrayal
of betrayal bubbles and
Becomes a torus
of diagonality. But it
Is to again be its geometries,
is to be its
Trigonometries each
foreshortened and elongated.
(And still it protrudes.)
Still, it is of
Such shapelessnesses,
is of such shapes cyclically
Impossible, circularly impeded,
and incrementally infinite.

------------------------------

Leroy

Radioactive Mind

Blog post # 172:
(172 = 2*43*2.)

Psychosis Without Predicates


Of Introverted Extremes


(Obviously I like the bottom picture more, even if it isn't that great.)

--------------------------------

Topical anagrams:


Newly radioactive
=
We act or vainly die.

--

Radiation's liars
=
As irrational ids

---------------------------------


Doom! DOOM! DDDDOOOOMMMMM!!!!!!

Here's a Palin-drome:

If she's elected US president, I'll be in a...

doom mood!

(Dumb, I know, but fittingly so.)

----------------------------------

Poem. (Written today.)

Extremes Represented
Finitely But Radiantly
-----------------

Neither of lemniscates nor
of butterflies, these
Paired blobs are, however,
each opposed upon a strand
Of imagined thoughts.
Oh, upon every linear expanse,
The bulbs billow and are
yet oddly asymmetrical,
Despite their balance
ideal relative to such masses.
And those wires do arc
and bend and fold; thus the
Blobs are convergent unto
their doubling. But that
Arrangement is misnumbered;
for, each pairing is
Adjacent to others as it.
Some bending, though,
Is more abrupt, and
some is more pronounced.
Yet emptiness parallels
this parallelism. And
These colors are beautifully
sustained within their
Absurdity. Neither of
magnificence nor of mediocrity
Is this configuration of
solidity's fluids. Neither
Of spheres nor of strings is
its negation, yet. And
Not of sharpness or erosion
are those strange sums,
Are those extremes
represented finitely but radiantly,
Represented as
iridescently transparent, as retroactive.

------------------------------

Leroy

Mentally Challenged

Blog post # 171:
(171= 3*19*3.)

Incrementally Uncounted


Grasped By Void


Meek Levitation


Unalgebraic Truth


I don't enjoy any of these pictures too much. But my favorites are the first and last.

-------------------------------

Puzzles!

The two phrases below are both anagrams of words that each are half of a certain dichotomy.
(Each anagram is of one word.)

What are the two words?

----------------
In gods' lute,
----------------
I dust late.
----------------

(I got the idea for an anagram puzzle from this week's Will Shortz puzzler on NPR Sunday morning. These here are my anagrams, though.)

------------------------------

This is a puzzle I made up.

Start with a small grid of 3-by-3 squares drawn on paper. (If you prefer, you can just make the Tic-Tac-Toe symbol, the # symbol, of 3-by-3 "cells".)

Place these integers into the grid, one integer per square/cell:
(1,1,2,3,4,5,6,7,9).
(That is 1 through 9, except with two 1's and no 8.)

But write these numbers in the squares/cells such that every row, column, and main diagonal of the grid contains exactly one integer that is the sum of the other two integers in the same row, column, or main diagonal.
(In any particular row, column, or main diagonal, the largest integer {the sum} may be any one of the 3 integers of that particular row, column, or main diagonal.)

I think I proved that all valid solutions are rotations and/or reflections of my intended solution. There are no other solutions besides these.

--

Here is an example, but with a different set of numbers:
Place (1,1,2,2,3,4,4,5,6) in the grid following the rules above:

A solution: (I don't know how many solutions there are to this set of numbers.)

1 4 3
4 2 2
5 6 1

(Notice that it is possible for the same number to be a sum in one direction and an addend in another.)

--------------------------------

If Rocky was anagrammatical, he would say:

"Yo, Obnoxious!
=
Soon I box you."

--------------------------------

All them crazy killers who are quiet.
"He was such a quiet boy", the neighbors always say about the mass-murderer living nearby.
Guess I'm not a dangerous threat to anyone, then.
Because I loudly scream obscenities all day!

No danger at all...

--------------------------------

Leroy

Sadistic Apathy

Blog post # 170:
(170 = 2*5*17, of course.)

(Not much today.)

Of Adjacency Detached


Segmented Into Oneness


-------------------------------

An anagram I just came up with:

My Cosmic Energies
=
Some Grimy Science

-------------------------------

Sorry I don't have more to talk about, but I am just apathetic now.
(Fuck the wars, the nuclear melt-down, and all other disasters that have hit our screwed up planet lately. Fuck it all.)

-------------------------------

A poem to end this:

Ridiculous Encirclement
------------------------

It does not enclose within it itself.
But it still
Contains the circle etched.
Yes, it does contain
The sphere tilted as
its roundness, tilted blandly
As a disk somewhat a spiral
unremarkably incomplete.
Quite, this arc of a
nonexistent loop, its width
Is fully obvious, but
its thinness is geometric,
Despite those mathematics.
And it is un-angled, yet
Only because we are to
behold it thusly. It does not
Return to its wholeness.
For, this is a ridiculous
Encirclement. Although
such a configuration typifies
All of the cosmic weirdness
exterior to every
Cosmic ceasing within us
(yet not held within).

Oh, this flat torus is
aglow and never opaque.
But it is segmented into
its oneness, and it
Is partitioned into
its beauty. It only curves and
Does so around that thing
of algebra's possessiveness.
But such science is enclosed,
if not within itself.
It is the winding coil wrapping
simply that sphere, a
Sphere of continuity shaped inertly,
shaped subtly into
A representation oddly imperfect
but mostly thorough.


(Sorry for this fucking terrible and unoriginal poem.)

-------------------------

Leroy

Speaking Of Dimensions

Blog post # 169:
(169 = 13*13, 13 squared.)

Erased By Dripping Air


Ironic Loxodrome


Obnoxious Graciousness


(My favorite of these is Ironic Loxodrome, but not by a whole lot.)

--------------------------------

Stupid anagram:

Say, dimensions are pi,
=
as pyramid sine-noise.

(But it has to do with math, so I posted it anyway, despite its stupidity.)

Another stupid anagram:

Climate Devastation
=
A tame devil, no static.

And another:

Quantum Physics
=
Mushy quips can't.

(Is this last one a sign? Probably not!)

--------------------------------

New poll!

Which of these is your favorite emotion?

Anger
Happiness
Love
Hate
Fear
Hope
Sadness
Apathy
Concern

--------------------------------

Poem, written two days ago:

Upon And Underneath
--------------------

Upon the topside, underneath
the bottomside, from both
Extrema of a glassy cylinder
without circularity, the
Triangular things hang and
are attached. They do
Droop, but curve, yet are
lengthwise vertical. They are
Draped as rotation upon
and underneath. And they
Drip only air from their
downward apices. They
Drip the matter of emptiness
from their thickness,
From their thinness
represented anthropomorphically.

In that transparency of the blob
held between them,
Nothingness is obvious
and observed. Oh, I
See the void by not perceiving it.
And I know that
It is solid, intermediately placed,
and existent.

Upon and underneath
such crystalline hypotheses,
We are erased, we
are endured. But the
Triangular things are
to wrap our iridescence
And then cling to
its sloping. Yes, this
Duplication is differing
but still poised
Against those roundish edges.
And configured so
Is the connectivity of abruptness
forced smoothly, is
The connectivity of triangles
and cylinders and glass
Made oddly into
that grouping, made into that
Transformative continuousness
unnecessarily stained,
Unnecessarily a prism
of antagonism halved.

------------------------------

Leroy

An Absurd Hell

Blog post # 168:
(168 = 2*3*2*7*2.)

Energetic Inertia


Exceptions To Multiplicity


Folded Artificiality


-----------------------------

Poll results:

Question: Which alliteration is your favorite of these?

8 votes were received total.

"Trapezoidal Transvestites" received 1 vote.
"Weird Wires" received 3 votes. (The winner.)
"Perplexingly Perpendicular" received 1 vote.
"Methodical Methodists" received 1 vote.
"Symmetrical Symposium" received 0 votes.
"Maniacally Manhandled" received 0 votes.
"Dichotomous Dictators" received 0 votes.
"Metaphysical Metaphor" received 0 votes.
"Irrelevant Iridescence" received 2 votes.
And "Absurdly Abstract" received 0 votes.

I almost didn't include "Weird Wires", the winner, because the vowel sounds are different in each word.

------------------------------------

Things are bad.

Very bad.

The other day I was telling my friend how the universe is basically a negative place, and mostly bad stuff happens more than good.
People keep saying that we should remember the small good things that happen in life. But lots of small bad things happen too, I must point out. And lots of big bad things happen too. But very few big good things happen.

Just hours after I told my friend about this, the Japanese earthquake/tsunami/major nuclear-disaster occurred.

Things in Japan are pure Hell, right now (even if you don't figure in the radiation-levels).

What will happen next to the Japanese? A 500-foot tall lizard will rise up out of the ocean and destroy Tokyo?!

It would figure.

But the Japanese disaster is nothing compared to the utter doom that soon awaits all of humanity.
TOTAL economic collapse, climate-change tipping-point, peak oil, further nuclear disasters, wars unending, unimaginable horrors. Soon it will all come to us.

But remember, stress is going to kill you, now, now, they always say.

Sure, but being killed is going to stress you out to a greater extent than the other way around.

The end IS near. It really is.

------------------------------

And what is the biggest sign of the Apocalypse? The fact I have two new poems for you!

(Written 2 days ago and today.)

Explosive Ascent
------------------

Without result, but with causality,
the explosive ascent
Of gasses and solids and hatred,
it all transcends
And radiates outwardly,
radiates assertively; and
Yet it is there within its origin.
There, within
The central circle of
emptiness, these
Gusts flee and angrily transit
such cosmic angles,
Transit such fiery glass
amongst us.

Yes, this blast of
paradoxical lines, it is
Flung in its expansion;
it is flung unto
That hollow reality
beyond it. It fulfills
The lust of energetic spaces.
And it
Is without resolution or
reservation. Ah,
This thing is fluid, is furious,
as it is magma.
It is metal and
imagination made. For,
The toxins combust and
betray their inertia.
They do consume us
in their suicide.
They do curse us in
their unimpressive dreams,
In their
clangorous screaming felt by
Truth, by temptation,
felt by science and divergence,
Suffered by our envelopment burning,
by our envelopment
Ascending explosively,
ascending suddenly, destroying us
In every crescendo, destroying
our finality once wondrous,
Once unsurpassed.

---------------------------

Folded Into Depth,
Curved Into Width
----------------

Folded into depth and
curved into width, this
Subtle flap contains its paper.
It contains the
Cloth of thin impediment.
Yet it is triangular
And asleep and round,
and its denial is precious.

Surrounding this thing
also resting horizontally,
The loops too are folded
and curved into their
Dimensions tritely creased.
They arc and hold inside them
this shape discussed.
And they both gape
upon their right and
Rotate upon their whole.
Oh, beneath that
Artificiality, circular flames
pretentiously clamor.

And above, all space is hollow,
and all madness
Is electromagnetic. Yet
between the gap, there,
Folded is an inert knife,
softly not to cut
Nor to be severed again.
It is avoided by its
Obviousness, and it is
conjured from its psychology.
But it only is absurd
regarding its inexactness,
Regarding these folds and
bends in such quartering,
In such halving unsustained
but permanently abrupt,
But permanently varied,
but perpetually plain.

--------------------------------

Leroy

Axioms Of Axons

Blog post # 167:
(167 = a prime, I think.)

Its Extreme Axiom


Equilibrium Averted


Outcome Oddly Otherwise



---------------------------------

Two more acronyms:

NUMBERS = Nature's Utterly Manmade But Eternally Real Substructure.

TERRORISM = Tyranny Entirely Retributive, Reactionary, Obviously Revolutionary; Injustice Sadistically Militant.

---------------------------------

Two more anagrams:

A stupid theorem is numbers dismayed.
=
My rested brain does sum them up, I said.

-

(A simple one:)

Evil's Fool
=
Love Foils

--------------------------------

Two poems, written 2 days ago and today:

An Asymmetric Dichotomy
--------------------

A hemispheroid and a
quarter-spheroid join to be 3/4
Of entirety. And in the
quartered convexity,
A hollow was cut into
one corner of ellipticality.
Yes, the hole is pinched and
slants unto the surface
Of conjoinment and
smoothness paraphrased. This
Conglomerate assumes the
composition is misunderstood.
It assumes our solidity is
loathsome and composed.

And it protrudes within the
odd loop of contiguousness.
Yes, it is nestled inside that
disapproval of all dismay.
A hemispheroid and a
quarter-spheroid are an asymmetric
Dichotomy, quite. For,
their masses are extreme,
And their shapes are
intermediate. They do
Form injustice again
in their combination.
But such a thing as
their confluence is seemingly
Partitioned. Seemingly,
the object is drawn, and
Yet it is truly tangential.
Truly, it is maimed
By this notch amongst it.
It then is lopsided
And alone except from
its encirclement, except
For its rectangularity curved
underneath this crescent,
Curved underneath this
abutment noticeably axiomatic,
This abutment noticeably
and counterintuitively indented.

------------------------------

As A Game Quite Empty
------------------

A game of conjunction and
inversion, of strangeness
Otherwise exceptional,
and of order otherwise weird,
It is played uncarefully
unto its unexpected
Severing, unto an
outcome surely numbered.
And I perceive our
binary mentality to be
Segmented but untrue,
to be unwieldy but
Thoughtful and returning
to its previousness,
Despite those contrary rules
of a game quite
Empty and beautiful and
unremarkably aglow.

Oh, as a game of
contradicted malice, that
Scrawl is drawn across then
drawn underneath. It
Is performed via my dreams,
and is permutated
Via my pen's assumptions.
Yes, this is such
A lengthwise multiplication
of reversals each
Accumulated; this is a game
of magnificence and
Inwardness. It is a pastime of
placement yet not
Rearranged. And it is
played again in my agony, in
My descent thus recreated.
Ah, it is now
Becoming written in the
counterbalance of certainty,
In the progression counted certainly,
in the progression
Counted as a game oddly horizontal,
as an ignorant game
Therefore of my unmastered losing.

--------------------------

Leroy

Inadequate Failing

Blog post # 166:
(166 = 2*83.)

Malleable Parallelism


Semi-Transformative Doubt


Obliquenesses Pertaining


Sums Of Amnesia


---------------------------

Now, some acronyms! (That's "acronyms", not "anagrams" this time.)

LOVE =
Longed-for Over-Valued Emotion.

HATE =
Humanity's Asininely Typical Emotion.

MIND =
Mental Intellect's Nasty Deceiver.

IDIOTS =
Ideological Dolts Idolize Old-Time Superstitions.

Post your own acronyms in the comment section if you want to.

-----------------------------

I'm such a loser. I should change my name to ...
inade-Quet...

-----------------------------

Two poems:
(Written yesterday and today.)

The Disks Lean Onto
--------------------

The disks lean onto their previousness.
They tilt onto
Their roundness thinly cylindrical.
One lies upon
Another, and that upon the leftmost.
And this rests upon
The flat wall near an edge
grasping the floor. Yet
From those circles of relinquishment,
angles and spikes
Rise and are level with
their diagonality. A single jag
Ascends in the forefront
from intermediacy. But
It is not to truly obscure
the upper disk, nor does
It pretend to be also hidden
by such looping. For,
Each shape progressively slants
irregularly. They
Each wiggle as their strands,
ha. And they
All become the grandness
of this uselessness.

They are not to exceed
those circumferences.
They are not to proclaim
those obliquenesses, those
Obliquenesses within
imagination's slender inaccuracies.
Ah, they are to juxtapose,
but simply, at their uncertain
Topsides almost central.
And they do hold such
Oxymoronic slopes
against their mania, against their
Depressive hopefulness
arranged partway.

---------------------------

This Foolishness
-----------------

The unwieldy idiocy I imply,
it is my ludicrousness;
It is my hexagonality and
insignificance. Ah,
This foolishness that imagines
my unremarkable self,
It is my weirdness summed
and added to 3/2. Yes,
I am only an idiot,
am only the very gunk
That contains such neurons
of obviousness and
Amnesia. I am the sap,
sticky with thoughts;
They each course onto
this odd illogicality.
They tell me of my stupidity,
and they convince my mind
of its waste. Yet I think
Of these permutations of all;
and such anagrams
Are perplexing but flat.
However, I am dumbfounded
By my own mental
malnourishment. For, it is never
To be quenched.
It is never to be satiated. It
Is never to imply
the knowingness of reality or of
Superstitions plagiarized,
or of superstitions placated,
Or of subliminal enlightenment
ignored and
Thus perhaps made into my
faulty consciousness, made
Into my failing form impeded,
unmotivated, and exact.

-------------------------------

Leroy