mistakes were made.

...indeed it was the fifth Erpf of Collwollon who declared roman numerals illegal by virtue of easy fortune and their sheer inability to the pedagogy of useful division algorithms. Mr. Homography says to kids "be safe, don't employ homographs until you're of age", and other assorted and perhaps insane effluvia. Or "homographs damage dentinous tissue, turn bone into powder, and generally make life difficult or impossible unless you have the proper bungee cords installed in your brain tissue by a competent brain-butcher". And even "homographs are like plate tectonics: nice when considered under the theoretical basis of Eventualism, but they taste like Toronto in tomato puree sauce"...

..."of course Sinjorino Monnat didn't slurp her ice cream, she's not an Esperantist", begins...

numbers (and other things) declared uninteresting by the Belgian Academy of Sciences

The Belgian Academy of Sciences has declared the following numbers and mathematical concepts to be uninteresting: no funding or grants will be allotted in the next fiscal year for them: groups, categories, the numbers 2, 33, 17/e, pi/18, the Riemann Zeta function, and the arctangent of twelve. Research on all other numbers is encouraged, though.

sure, I know what you're talking about...

...okay so the fifth part contained some hum-dingers and some pitches from left field, but it's only seven dimensional plutonian steam hockey, if the knobs on your HDSubjuncTVs are set appropriately. After 2008 only digital knobs will be allowed (as part of the drive to make all parts of the broadcasting process digital). But that's hither and thither. What the Captain really wants to know is "why did V. Nesselwright explain, in glorious detail, the differences between Friedmann and Cardassian cosmologies at the end of the fourth inning to the umpire and what do those differences have to do with the game mechanics?" I sadly cannot answer such questions, as there's been a sense blackout in my district. I am also ill with some variant of the sickness, and sweaty, and there's a gathering at my abode this night to do with a furious and analgesic addicted doctor on a furry television network known for its viterupative misportrayals of category theorists as professional nineteenth century milliners and haberdashers -- bad ones, at that. So, come on down to the roundtable and discuss your problems with acetone, xylitol, and l-carnitine! It's only a 3 mm journey from here to there. (local variations on the length of a millimeter may or may not make this impossible, but time will tell)

on second thought, hold the mustard.

Catalogue entries from the fictitious Lands of Nen: Trulla, San Sufelior, San Droste, Dripple, Neorgy, Wombatplasm, Gar Garan, Gar Asploda, c.f. 117-119 commas to Manley Hubbell notwithstanding any local number field hijinx. Some polyalphabetic and vigniere wiz-baz was noted when a water molecule cleanliness ultrafilter was applied (removing any toxic Mahlo cardinals from the drinking water, making it safe for quasihuman consumption). Surveys of the granite population reveal that type IIa supernovas were common amongst italic typefaces produced during the seventeenth century (one wonders how the foundries escaped the carpet thick walls of neutrinos), but such tales are spurious and rich with quaternion festerings and other constructions just to tantalize (cosmic galois groups, anyone, kryptamines and other artificial imaginaries like Ulam's Marchmont machine or the Ez of Nuzbunkt leap sporadically to mind). But it is the sheer lunacy of the third paragraph (paramatrix?) rife with beta-gamma reductases and blog entries from the third century K. E. (kypriot epoch) that just leave me unable to speak. Because the Gauze-Trieste yammering episode took place during the Escafoont, no one seems to be able to recall what happened in the 1980s -- memories are reconstructed poorly and much repetition and floundering has been issued in the official archaeological archives. Indeed, upon closer and lazier examination it seems like much of the records have been replaced or updated with small tiny blobs of bismuth or carbon that have been pitted, scarred, demagnetized, or otherwise abused. There are arrays of thousands of these underneath the deserts of Alaska, and they've been carefully (ciz.) irradiated with TWENEX binaries of FORTH interpreters. God only knows why. Or the state of Ug.

staged for the grand reveal

so it's the end of the third act of Cartasso's Murzenthog, and you're wondering "what the hell happened". Without spoiling the whole thing for you, it's possible to reveal the following: 1. salmitropan pentafluoride was not the poison contained within the catchbasin. it was diboron carbonide. 2. Shelly Linares did in fact spend four summers studying Osprey Yugels in Yotch, Portugal. 3. Stuttix grace is only part of Hattix grace, when performed in the traditional Meta-Ontario zort-cycle, and otherwise it doesn't count. 4. Uhuymbris axalantes mice are not allergic to kappa mesons on alternate Tuesdays. 5. Principia Murzenthogia was issued in three codicils, each of which more ornate and confusing than the previous, and therefore the intentions of the prince or the apothecary should be construed as having anything to do with anything at all. 6. Either Anaximander or Eubarytes could have removed the grandmother clock at the end of the second act, so it's impossible to say whether Colonel Tellichery wielded the sofa in the duel. 7. Netch Slennem has been seen smearing burnt copies of the Murzenthog manuscript on her body and jumping up and down on mattresses in the capital of Zaxheim, so you might as well draw your own conclusions about her opinions about Eidenfloog Cartasso. 8. At the time of the play's writing, Bernskapis and Duluth were united under the governance of the nation of Ganziber. 9. Ponthex Arcoran Smythe has written an extensive commentary about this section of the play, in which he reveals that the Cartasso's original folios were impregnated with lead sulfide and potassium chromate.

other processes

ciz. the effective gamma function of the complex plane, adumbrated and removed so that the arguments are ciz. taken over the genome of the common yeast saccharomyces cerevisiae via some agglomeration of unrighteous glee, i.e. the stretching of the cosmic peppercorn and the straining of the goatsgrease peduncle (major phyla only! see if the offer applies to your organism!) coming soon to a dromedary near you. ciz. a lackluster performance at the Rotz theatre. Which echelon of the intelligences was that dude? The guy smoking a clove outside the truckstop barfled some comment about Langlands reciprocity in secondary gear motor systems that thoroughly went over the heads of any hyper-being happening to stroll through that portion of the erf in that millisecond. ciz.: cisplatin. five milliseconds later a braless klingon trapeze artist would be humming the Gotterdamerung in perfect Belgian (much to the chagrin of actual Belgians). And you know that all relevant safety protocols were followed: the catch-net, the burnside-smith, the translinear coffer, the wombatosis immunophore selectively calibrated to any and all members of your haplotype silently spraying the audience with plague resistance agents, ciz.: by the time that the next Transcambrian monoid passes us over and the Leibnizian metamorphosis is complete whole plate tectonical rearrangements will have happened. Empires and nations will have risen and fallen. Galaxies will have been conquered and entire cosmic manifolds will have been crumpled up and thrown in the Calabi-Yau rubbish bin of the gods, or what-have-you in higher dimensional subspaces. And don't get me started on the other things in that dude's clove cigarrette.

booking nasal passages

Endilprent accosts Major Telsorius: "I say, dear chap, is the tensor field divergent", under threat of misery there is no reply. "Is the qualia of the equation public domain", again, no answer, under threat of meaningless. Lhusuf and Vexil have a gram of deoxygenated astral substance, which they have no idea of its properties. X-ray protection scarves dote the horizon, not having a plan or a pravex. Odd cubes of levitating blue foam occasionally collide with me. On occasion, a blood red eye robot will ask questions "Why is the sky green?", "What is the cube root of negative minus reverse inverse three if the sun is purple?", "I am three handed and four nosed, and do not read the messages in the sand. If the skylark is acronymous, what am I?". I cannot answer them, for they are too silly.

porengo

the mist machines are twenty in number, eighteen for the salt-stacks, nine for the homeomorphically distended epsom bundles, one twelfth for the capybaras, and only one scant forty thousandth for the kappa-engines, this is not completely a summary, but it suffices for all practical purposes. Even the captains of industry leave much to be desired, and even they are only one fiftieth in number and primed for the accidentacalypse.

interior hyperborea

"Daz" quote, "indec thrustwit kantorek delsido" muttered the moosegown. "Divinary is alt." slazed the statterer. "Pob" nittered the nutwit. "Cankek" hibbed the Prosley. "Ik crat" slentored the miso. "Buttitchyan?" queried the endopib. "Ij junky" starled the rejunder. "Isp" nastered the praliont. "Dist pob" nottered the exopib.

more names from beyond Hyperborea

Nhuvgraff Splectar, Arnorm Relngefroim, Sadatto Oncleplutz, Distartitusso Nanzelhan, Jeeve Onderplossy, Doxotte Nondersil, Anhexis Wenderfluor, Doctor Apperbasso Tildenga, Zactor Anderplies, Harhenedrap Maserun

nothing to say, nothing to say.

The diels-alder machine consists of twenty two thousand integrated metal parts, each no longer than a toothpick, with total mass of about two hundred grams. The machine was designed by the machine-artist L. Zonkel Didgenembi in order to prove something about the construction of machines and their paradoxes. Two, three! Bananas. I often find that my meaning gets corrupted by the user interfaces that I have to work through. Olney's lesions. Like that. I don't have the required amount of kinetic energy. Something else. I don't know. trying to verbalize, trying to verbalize dammit I'm dizzy. Whatever the proof is, it is. Therefore the henceforth and fancy free. Like it is logical, you know, consisting of parts that are seemingly meaningful except when they're taken together, the meaning leeches out and vanishes. And that's the sad thing, is that it's impossible to time for that moment. And the aborted idea just is dizzily released from the box, and it's like fifteen minutes to noon. Even if all the neutrinos were in their proper positions you could get away with not saying much of anything when you wanted to write the world, to put strangeness to paper and found that your hands were two useless lumps of flesh, that flesh was all you desired, and whatever high faluting notions of enlightenment you had in your head were poorly represented chaotic dumps of incoherent information that didn't amount to anything, and that whenever you tried to put your head above the water, Tantalus style, a bird always came and interrupted you.

approximations of the fine and dandy, or how I vanished.

the engines of the yesteryear never even made it to Silossa. Indeed, when the intervrunglers had travelled as far as Rienan and Kerruthgek we had to wonder what the hell the agency had in mind. Oh whoah, it was bequothed, and all of a sudden our photopolarimeters swung wildly on their own ecliptics and landed on the fiftieth teleparallel line adjacent to Rygor and Pollatrix. Not to be underdone, it then took a ninety five milliradian jaunt in phase space until it shook the light fantastic. We were three milliparsecs away and (in better units of measurement), travelling at one meter per millinahambe, so not that fast, I think.

in machineworld, no one hears you think

Look, the cactus colored andromedans didn't find a way to search their coffers before flying all out and all over and thusly no one didn't find a method to shnernge and shnornge the colliers of Praseodymeus or Oroseodymeus because all the memory of the Greek days had been forgotten, no one was particularly concerned with the herer or the therror.

irrigo arrago orroguette

The methodical laminations of the saints denote various and many meandering rivulets of non-meaning. Into the extraneous life well we must go and sally off and see wild and complicated event arroyos and other signs of the apocalypse because there's nothing better to do, not even to watch crabs breed and insects dance. Even theumothrices and sementhemes weren't in attendance of the fifth queen's strange ball because, and so I hear, because even they have standards, whatever the hell that is supposed to mean. Natal irrigation preceded the current phase and with the inattention of the suns of gallipoli we denuded our basaltic columns in a strontium enrichment process until all of the measurable lemniscates had been filtered or fulminated or just left to rust and with the thiols and the hydroxls and all the various parts of molecules we could fly fervently and perhaps forever in an inattentive bliss or a crude approximation

But the thing about the plans of the Directors is that most of them are just that, approximations and poorly thought out projections for humanity leave much to be desired because even if all of the people who had ideas about how the cosmos worked were placed from end to end then even none of the them would be coherent enough to tell us how things worked. Um. LIke yeah.

surly calyx frontispieces

"cried the quoter" cried the quoter, a bombastic and unbalanced individual of complicated (though decidedly partially ill) repute. "fifteen things and thirty things" referenced the referencer to sail across uncharted lands and make generally bad tasting toffee chips taste even worse by application of pickle and octopus juices. Carotene. Omega-carotene flying at one fifty thousandth the speed of light and colliding with the door frame. Oh, so you've got some problems with the way that the Committee has decided to do things. Well, tough cookies, they're your agent of agencies, your crystal of crystalline dining halls floating a mile high in the sky.

irrigation of the thyne

nestril yissim lonterthule oh yarraby mine oft oneiroscopically lanthanide occluded arts! rhind papyri excrescent laudanum orrery isogenous inequal lamination.

okay, we're in the fifth outing, with three teams in play (The Icelattice Kerthunkniks, the Wilhelmina Polymerases, and the Plasma City Shnorklesnoops). The score is L to C to 8/17th, with the Kerthunkniks
leading by a nose, and the Shnorklesnoops in second place. Didzby is at stat, Karthik Arcsine is the thatcher, and Bellerophon Soleil is the kickstart. The acids are loaded, with Nicholas Arkleshornge at a pH of 1.1
Arcsine wields a loopy thunk, and number 23 Polymerase throws the grapefruit. It's a whunker. Arcsine wields a ditzy cantaloupe, and number 18 Kerthunknik bobbles the Estragon. Aces are wild and Arkleshornge folds, Pelleng hits a whunker, raising the 8/17th to 17/37s, with a fast fly to sulfuric acid. Soleil is wheezing the elfstone! A quick parabola drive to center acid. number 2 Polymerase catches the ball and throws it to the reciever, who inverts, and transmits the ball to carboxylic acid via mental telepathic teleportation. It's a mind drive. One to seven. And the ump says that there's been a dehydration, so we'll take a break from broadcasting sports news to go to the general news program as soon as the electron donor is determined.

furthering the cause.

Oh, so you meander into this bivouac expecting Nine Mice and a laser icosahedron and then some Wishy-Washy banana imprint spectrogrammata on your forehead to indicate your ascension to the throne? Or shallanj, pray specie a higher form of life in some cladogram or taxonomy? I understate you, and you declare yourself a squire and kungspiel of the realm while looking lazily at the strangers in your midst? What were you expecting, a nice kind of day and a peroration unlike any of the scattergrams that you have been knowingly mailing to the Director. I ought to have my head examined at your expense, though I don't think that I've ever been that mean, ever. Like, it's one thing to state that the ribald countrykeepers have had some kind of experimentation process running for the last two fortnights, but it's a whole other thing to exchange quantum mechanical cryptographic profiles while snarfing down a bagel and praying to whatever deity that you hold dear that the feel of the place is wrong. It's like a diamond of concepts splayed uselessly into the hemolymph of a cockroach. I can feel that it's a name for another atom: you do know that atoms have names, right? But names like racehorses, scattered in the momenta of neutrinos of their origin, scattered far away and spread about the universe. Sielmanyate can read them, but who cares a zennifer say.

persons, places, and things (the noun forest)

F. G. Cartwongle, D. S. Snembert, Holloclaise Retterdun, Neleopsis Munzos, Cobbie Collesta, Polovi Shapello, Caribren Corthairean, Notterflotz Zanjupleed, Phnom Enon, Pho Pas, Pho Enix, Pho Sphorous, Pho Ton, Pho (Sine Qua) Non, Mr. Distapede, Frazzix Gax, The Artlepungle, The Has Mandwich, Ummer Blase, Dirininga, die jahlen? Irripon, Niorappan, Cirappany, Wallzarando, Artleginget, Snixis Ponong, Snixis Giffereaux, Snixis Wrunxvrenx, Snixis Litterdim, Ummer Strosphariut, Ummer Bloghesse, Shellis Station and Plaza. The Onion Depot, Doctor Attrozocks' Unfirmary, Winfarnast's Promontories. Caff Eine, Th Eine, Meth Ylxanthinium. Xaxistan, The Ardgerdro Honix mines. By pleonax and the works of Phlogisticles: segundan and tertiary. Insert a cretaceous representative and hold the phone lines open: we're expecting. Five by one five, the unoordinates are rekoordinating. Fifty. Count some sterno and a virus, a readied proposition and a plasty. Sixty. Hortellis Moons. The Post-Jovian honoraria. Oxypheenge and company demanded reconcilliation and perfusion. Ninety. Oxypheenge was lost at sea, with all hands elsewhere. One hundredy: acid tongue for high pH environments: makes logarithms taste buttery and toasty. Frogs or toads. Acetaldehyde and various ketones (c.f. Duchess Ketone Atreides, from Hrank Ferbert's science fiction series "Goon"), two thousand centenaries. (plix by plax, one half. plox by plux at two quartiere). Onyx flavored ice cream not to be served at the princess' ball in Iconoclature. Who was it who was talking?

roll call for major factorers

Aye, the mechanics of the question are strange and frought with insanity: Is it true that on the night of the month of Tassuerry did one Encko San Viritrius trip over a banana peel during the wee hours of the morning? Is it likewise true that Lorhon S. Vintlerfleeb was seen in the banana plant the night of the very same month? Are specious and easily drawn conclusions ubiquitous? Have all of the major Cosi-Stellar nightroutes been mapped out by robotic probe? For answers to these and even less meaningful questions, just hang up. Also sighted not too far away were S. Nynzfleef, T. Dyzgaard, U. H. Hyzefreel, Texoco Shallanj, and Trelheim Nonderpoof. Not to mention Grigspeel Dinderfloyts, Wottarsby Uncklesmoof and Telherge Nyznynderfloobe

title makes a spinny top; have you seen the strange bop

Yeunzhoff Press, Anapleursis Docks: Today Arrhé Kandilirugo announced that the Plissploss Plenipotentiary would be moved to Grulsday, at Phnom Enon. Phnom Enon is the quasi-Vietnamese border community inhabited by mostly semiorganic constituents as well as a number of unprime numbers, such as 44 and 27.