To Iterate Is Human

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Work consists of whatever a body is obliged to do. Play consists of whatever a body is not obliged to do.
– Mark Twain

Introduction

While we’re busily ferreting away some of that lovely work—come to think of it, there’s even a naughty formulation by the name of Parkinson’s Law which would have us believe that work expands so as to fill the time available for its completion—I say it’s time to take a break from scaling walls of text (over here on our blog, that is).

Hear ye, all those present, especially those seeking refuge, if only momentarily, from the digressions we do here—mostly the doings of your truly—this is your moment. Revel in this fleeting freedom that is now yours!

Yep, we’re going visual this weekend.

Heh, lest your jubilation be  an overextended one—and before you run that jubilant victory lap to celebrate this respite from digressions—let it be known that the good stuff (digressions, what else?) can return unannounced any day now, at a moment’s notice…

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This Is How It All Began

Anyhow, it all started—this thing about erring, iterating and recursing—innocently enough, with an old chestnut to the effect that

To err is human; to forgive, divine

Hmm… Given the compact size of the saying above, more a walnut than a chestnut. But I digress (already!)

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Forgiveness Morphed Into… Recursion!

Curiously enough, that old chestnut about erring and forgiving—most likely having been waylaid by recursively zealous computer science aficionados such as the soulful-eyed, innocence-feigning one in the pic above—morphed into the likes of how

To iterate is human; to recurse, divine.

Oh my.

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It Was Off To The Races

Along came your blogger—a self-styled essayist of sorts—and then we were cooking with gas. Speaking of cooking, and should you have the stomach for this sort of thing, I say, let’s sally forth and witness the results (Ahem, all at your own risk, I hasten to add).

And in the process of reading (and digesting) what I’ve cooked up for you, should you cringe, please remember: We’re merely on a visual binge.

So there.

Disclaimer: Every single variation (on that walnut-of-a-saying about erring, iterating and recursing) which follows are my doing—thereby adding to my sins of commission, taking a break from those of omission—and nobody else’s. Yep, nobody does this sort of thing better, amirite?

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To net time might feel inhuman; to waste it, you just go online

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To woo and rue is altogether human; to moo, bovine

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To have our vision blur is but human; to C#, Go Forth unto sunshine

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To deburr a roof aloof is human; to woof, canine

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To demur is human; to concur, applaud the divine

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To splurge is human; to purr, feline

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To read essays is human; to write them, mighty-fine

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To bedraggle in WET software is altogether human; to keep it DRY, oh-so-frontline

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To nab a saboteur is human; jab one, and you get a whine

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To curse is bad enough already; to re-curse, asinine

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To do bland cuisine is de rigeur; to haute cuisine, there’s kelp and brine

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Ah, to head for the mezzanine and get that no-frills seat number nine; but to do it with style and quills, best to have a porcupine

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If the 80s were, well, the 80s; this must be (multicore) cloud nine

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Our Rickshaw Drops Us Off

I mean, we’ve tortured language enough already; it cried uncle, for crying out loud. Plus the rickshaw driver won’t have anything more to do with us anymore. You know, the driver of one of those turbine-powered turbo vehicles? As in growlingly ferocious turbine, beloved the world over by felines and even more so by canines of any stripe you care to define.

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Concentric Circles Of Carp

What’s up with the design, I say? It’s mighty fine and all that. But, really? Salmons go up the incline, while I pine for streams that could be mine (and definitely not thine). And you? Oh well.

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A Room With A View

Reserve one for me, will you please? Send me the bill, which I will neatly underline, refine, and—goodbye dollars—sign.

Oh, and just in case you’ve trudged to the very end—it verily betokens the end of our tether—I must spring forward and congratulate you; you are far braver than I.

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