Oct 2018
whenever i get stuck on a sudoku puzzle,
i try to rethink it, or rather write an
abstract about in terms of -
symbols outside of 1 through to 9
that feel less restrictive -
i mean: finding numbers along a gridded
space is sometimes very much
akin to thinking of a word -
which isn't a synonym -
and then the spelling...
even i falter on the name of
a sea... example...
one word doesn't prove a dyslexia,
it's just that it is, pedantically difficult
to encode optically into cognition
than it is to remember how it sounds...
e.g.?
Meditarrenean...
i'll try more attempts...
it's not like i'm trying to spell Mississippi...
Mediterranean... oh ****!
it worked!
but you get the picture...
some words are a bundle of...
not exactly prefix / suffix / affix clarity of
syllables...
the vowels get jumbled up -
with the breakdown of the Latin grapheme
æsc and Œ...
the English language, is particularly obliged
to have origins in how these
Siamese twins were seperated...
****... separated...
always with the sepia...
anyway...
yeah, whenever i get stuck because my eyes
have become strained and have wandered
to much, i write an abstract
for the puzzle...
puzzle no. 10,188?
a completely blank grid, of the nine...
nothing in there...
like chess, you have to find a way to insert
one number in...
in this instance? it was an 8...
you have to corner a number,
which implies a chess equivalent of
a check...
because there's an 8
already inserted into the other eight
grids...
how did the abstract look of
the puzzle that eased my eyes and let me
spot the first / last 8 for the grid?
again, you have to move beyond
numbers and letters to ease the eyes...
|| \ \ \ //
= // = || || || // \ ||
|| = // = =
since we're dealing with finding a number
in space,
what eases the eyes is the spacing
difference in the pixel blank, "paper"...
it's a schematic exercise -
a sudoku puzzle is some sort of
schematic...
albeit a hidden schematic...
on a grid of blanks,
there are three numbers with holes
in them: 4, 6, 8, 9... and in the back of
my mind, 0...
which implies: the grid is all 0s...
and i have to change the 0s...
into the respective outcome of set rules...
perhaps this is,
a mundane aspect of my day...
but for some strange ******* reason...
it tames me, and elevates
the experience of music...
mind you...
you ever watch that Channel 4 show
that happens once a year?
the... child genius?
with those quasi-autistic kids
who turn out to be trained
monkeys...
what horrific parents they have...
trained monkeys...
spell "perfect",
memorize facts, "perfect"...
spell words... "perfectly"...
god, what a horrid contest...
a bit like that one they did
on the grounds of an insomnia
competition...
luckily the channel had only
one stab at the idea,
and the competition was deemed:
Soviet-esque torture
replication, i.e. sleep deprivation...
just like me, today,
i woke up, and you know when
you're in that state of neither asleep
but not quiet awake...
in that subconscious zone
where consciousness isn't exactly
the unconscious,
and the unconscious isn't
exactly consciousness,
and you "think" that you're
seeing a set of "images"...
but are more or less "thinking"
and not seeing the "images"...
what a ******* horror-freak show...
like some slaughterhouse
of human remains and what not...
horrid ****, almost had a hard-on
looking at the *******,
which... i was either imagining,
or... i was imagining...
consciousness isn't exactly
a bastion of imagination,
but sure as **** the subconscious is...
and there i was, thinking
that the subconscious didn't exist...
in the holy freudian trinity
of the breakup of man...
point being,
these supposed child geniuses...
channel 4...
and autobiographies....
people really have lived more spectacular
lives than me....
but...
(a) i taught myself how to swim...
my father tried once,
teaching me in the South-end sea
with that despicable beach
of hard pebbles...
FAIL...
who taught me to swim in primary school
at the Barkingside swimming pool?
peer pressure... nothing more,
nothing less...
and...
(b) i taught myself English...
when i came to England
aged 8 i knew two words in English...
cartoon and, network...
you know the feeling of an 8 year old,
shoved into a room full of English
speaking children,
and not being able to speak a, single,
word, of their ****** tongue?
even i don't... i don't remember the kid
who self-taught himself
this language of the natives...
it's not like i had the privilege position
of your atypical migrant parents,
who absconded from their culture,
settled, taught themselves your standard:
marked by diacritical marks /
accented "native" sprechen...
i don't remember that child
who used to hide in the toilets...
because, well... child development is
about learning a new language
aged 8?
i remember this fat Italian kid...
same dumb-**** that came in,
came out... i call it the pasta fudge virus...
like these kids being the sons and daughters
of immigrant parents,
immigrant parents who sacrifice
their native tongue and speak only English
in their home, so that their children
only learn English...
and how some try to crawl back to their
mother's metaphysical ***** and
learn some native sprechen of their own...
because you know how or rather
why i taught myself English?
so... there's probably about less than a million
Polacks in England at the moment,
moved to England, earned some money,
****** off back to Poland
to earn, rather than borrow,
from how the Western Europeans benefited
from the Marshall Plan after the second
world war...
thanks... but no thanks with regards
to the cultural antagonism you're experiencing
from the, merry ol England...
so there were those kids...
their parents sacrificed their tongue:
pretty much their souls for some ignoble
brat to come along and "think"
that he's somehow native...
more so than the natives...
i've met only one obnoxious
English *****...
ans that's saying something...
who? my neighbor...
who's grandparents apparently came
from Lithuania...
but yeah...
child geniuses, trained monkeys...
it's not like arithmetic is littered with
as many particular rules as a language...
instances where Puma is actually
Pū(h)m(ah) not not... ahem...
Pyoomah...
i've learned being corrected about
how words are pronounced quiet early on...
and it stuck with me...
hey... no hard feelings...
it's not like the English language has
entertained applying even a faint whisper
of diacritical indicators...
trained monkeys...
well... monkeys that evolved
to entertain the pleasures of gluttony
and the art of Roman regurgitation...
but as i said...
people have lived more accomplished lives...
and these two feats are...
peanuts!
i try to rethink it, or rather write an
abstract about in terms of -
symbols outside of 1 through to 9
that feel less restrictive -
i mean: finding numbers along a gridded
space is sometimes very much
akin to thinking of a word -
which isn't a synonym -
and then the spelling...
even i falter on the name of
a sea... example...
one word doesn't prove a dyslexia,
it's just that it is, pedantically difficult
to encode optically into cognition
than it is to remember how it sounds...
e.g.?
Meditarrenean...
i'll try more attempts...
it's not like i'm trying to spell Mississippi...
Mediterranean... oh ****!
it worked!
but you get the picture...
some words are a bundle of...
not exactly prefix / suffix / affix clarity of
syllables...
the vowels get jumbled up -
with the breakdown of the Latin grapheme
æsc and Œ...
the English language, is particularly obliged
to have origins in how these
Siamese twins were seperated...
****... separated...
always with the sepia...
anyway...
yeah, whenever i get stuck because my eyes
have become strained and have wandered
to much, i write an abstract
for the puzzle...
puzzle no. 10,188?
a completely blank grid, of the nine...
nothing in there...
like chess, you have to find a way to insert
one number in...
in this instance? it was an 8...
you have to corner a number,
which implies a chess equivalent of
a check...
because there's an 8
already inserted into the other eight
grids...
how did the abstract look of
the puzzle that eased my eyes and let me
spot the first / last 8 for the grid?
again, you have to move beyond
numbers and letters to ease the eyes...
|| \ \ \ //
= // = || || || // \ ||
|| = // = =
since we're dealing with finding a number
in space,
what eases the eyes is the spacing
difference in the pixel blank, "paper"...
it's a schematic exercise -
a sudoku puzzle is some sort of
schematic...
albeit a hidden schematic...
on a grid of blanks,
there are three numbers with holes
in them: 4, 6, 8, 9... and in the back of
my mind, 0...
which implies: the grid is all 0s...
and i have to change the 0s...
into the respective outcome of set rules...
perhaps this is,
a mundane aspect of my day...
but for some strange ******* reason...
it tames me, and elevates
the experience of music...
mind you...
you ever watch that Channel 4 show
that happens once a year?
the... child genius?
with those quasi-autistic kids
who turn out to be trained
monkeys...
what horrific parents they have...
trained monkeys...
spell "perfect",
memorize facts, "perfect"...
spell words... "perfectly"...
god, what a horrid contest...
a bit like that one they did
on the grounds of an insomnia
competition...
luckily the channel had only
one stab at the idea,
and the competition was deemed:
Soviet-esque torture
replication, i.e. sleep deprivation...
just like me, today,
i woke up, and you know when
you're in that state of neither asleep
but not quiet awake...
in that subconscious zone
where consciousness isn't exactly
the unconscious,
and the unconscious isn't
exactly consciousness,
and you "think" that you're
seeing a set of "images"...
but are more or less "thinking"
and not seeing the "images"...
what a ******* horror-freak show...
like some slaughterhouse
of human remains and what not...
horrid ****, almost had a hard-on
looking at the *******,
which... i was either imagining,
or... i was imagining...
consciousness isn't exactly
a bastion of imagination,
but sure as **** the subconscious is...
and there i was, thinking
that the subconscious didn't exist...
in the holy freudian trinity
of the breakup of man...
point being,
these supposed child geniuses...
channel 4...
and autobiographies....
people really have lived more spectacular
lives than me....
but...
(a) i taught myself how to swim...
my father tried once,
teaching me in the South-end sea
with that despicable beach
of hard pebbles...
FAIL...
who taught me to swim in primary school
at the Barkingside swimming pool?
peer pressure... nothing more,
nothing less...
and...
(b) i taught myself English...
when i came to England
aged 8 i knew two words in English...
cartoon and, network...
you know the feeling of an 8 year old,
shoved into a room full of English
speaking children,
and not being able to speak a, single,
word, of their ****** tongue?
even i don't... i don't remember the kid
who self-taught himself
this language of the natives...
it's not like i had the privilege position
of your atypical migrant parents,
who absconded from their culture,
settled, taught themselves your standard:
marked by diacritical marks /
accented "native" sprechen...
i don't remember that child
who used to hide in the toilets...
because, well... child development is
about learning a new language
aged 8?
i remember this fat Italian kid...
same dumb-**** that came in,
came out... i call it the pasta fudge virus...
like these kids being the sons and daughters
of immigrant parents,
immigrant parents who sacrifice
their native tongue and speak only English
in their home, so that their children
only learn English...
and how some try to crawl back to their
mother's metaphysical ***** and
learn some native sprechen of their own...
because you know how or rather
why i taught myself English?
so... there's probably about less than a million
Polacks in England at the moment,
moved to England, earned some money,
****** off back to Poland
to earn, rather than borrow,
from how the Western Europeans benefited
from the Marshall Plan after the second
world war...
thanks... but no thanks with regards
to the cultural antagonism you're experiencing
from the, merry ol England...
so there were those kids...
their parents sacrificed their tongue:
pretty much their souls for some ignoble
brat to come along and "think"
that he's somehow native...
more so than the natives...
i've met only one obnoxious
English *****...
ans that's saying something...
who? my neighbor...
who's grandparents apparently came
from Lithuania...
but yeah...
child geniuses, trained monkeys...
it's not like arithmetic is littered with
as many particular rules as a language...
instances where Puma is actually
Pū(h)m(ah) not not... ahem...
Pyoomah...
i've learned being corrected about
how words are pronounced quiet early on...
and it stuck with me...
hey... no hard feelings...
it's not like the English language has
entertained applying even a faint whisper
of diacritical indicators...
trained monkeys...
well... monkeys that evolved
to entertain the pleasures of gluttony
and the art of Roman regurgitation...
but as i said...
people have lived more accomplished lives...
and these two feats are...
peanuts!
