Terminable.

Information.

Is taking over.

Soon there will be no matter

Everything is abstracting

The moon is disappearing

Being sucked into bits

Taken apart atom by atom

And re-arranged

Into something new.



Resterbit stroke of the hand on the back,
Waddle to the shore of the lake and look in,
Watch you're not pushed and see in its depths
The movement of the water atoms isn't random,
The ocean is computing

 Well there wasn't a beginning and not an end, the vagrant compound jitterred fizzonically around the putrabond cumsicle. Its sniposcity increasing as the temperature slowly rises in the beaker for the seventh minute. Lactating into a smooth paste, to be applied to the wound and rubbed in carefully. There is no reason this shouldn't be done hourly, for the next few days, performed by whoever is responsible for smirkfraucking in the establishment.

Its not fair she said. Its not fair. The blubber flupperpus is watering my tentacles.  The ultimate result of it all comes flying towards you like a leaden bullet from a manlicher, so wield you webly and throw it away. The yabber mawking is averse to the attuning death wand.  I will give it all away plainly. There is always a way on the burrowed light to more becomings than yestermighty blighty. Skwibbly ponterkotch. It unpeels from my fingers. What the madam would like to know I am not at liberty to share with her. Do you want to know something powerful. Woman. Woman. Woman. Come to the window and look down. There, out on the common, is a secret, not readily legible to the uninitiated. The nature of nature. Source code.

Time establishes a route through itself to the chocolate factory in heaven.

Economies of scale in higher education

On the rising cost of education

Students entering University today will on graduation face debts of upwards £40,000. But in this post-financial crash world shouldn't we be trying to drive private debt down? Won't increasing costs of higher education deter those from more deprived backgrounds? While it is right that students bare some of the cost of their education isn't there now the room and the incentives in this now marketised Higher Education sector for some serious innovation in the products which University's offer?

It is a paradox that in the information age the cost of Education should be going up.

Well here is the news from across the Atlantic on the Higher Education market. I am currently studying an MIT first year course in analog and digital electronic circuits, whilst simultaneously traveling around South Africa. Sounds like an impressive feat? I seriously wish I could have done my whole undergraduate like this! I hand in my weeks homework, then I stroll down to see the penguins on the beach. There is no requirement for me to be in a specific location so I choose to be in the most comfortable pleasant interesting location I can. No more tins of baked beans and drab overpriced student halls. I'm studying from a chalet in the South Africa bush. I am also studying with one of the most premier technology colleges in the world on an identical course to the students who are actually there in Boston. Its pretty fantastic. Thousands of students across the world are enrolled and the quality of the course is superb. There is also a vibrant online community, with forums and chat rooms. I even found someone else in Cape Town who is studying the same course and met up with him in person for a study session. Since the invention of the video camera, why ever did anyone ever teach the same lecture twice? This will free lecturers time to spend more time on research, increase possibilities for 1 on 1 tuition and bring down costs. There are economies of scale to be achieved in Higher Education.

Ok, this format has its limits, there is perhaps something about face to face learning that an online format can never replace. There is something about the 'University experience' , societies, the social dimension that can't be replaced. But a similar thing could be said about chopping wood and that didn't stop us from upgrading to central heating.

There are several compelling reasons British Universities should be encouraged to start running courses on-line in parallel to courses they are running on site. It'll be relatively low cost to set up and maintain, the Universities that offer such courses will be able to increase their market share, it'll bring the cost/student down making a high quality University education more accessible, its potentially the dawn of a new and infinitely superior student life style. One where perhaps a student could be sitting in Delphi reading Herodotus, in Tehran studying al-gebra or on the American planes reading Mark Twain, in China studying Chinese or in the Congo studying conflict and development. Its a brave new vision of what Higher Education could be: flexible and immersive.

Perhaps, most compellingly, if we don't, the American's will get there first and the whole world will be studying with American Universities and we can't have that. There will be demand if Universities start to offer this, trust me, its awesome.

Now that students in England enrolling with the Open University will be entitled to the same loans as students at campus's, an important barrier to distance learning courses is about to be removed. Perhaps Universities at large will catch on.

Re: Bye bye banking

There seems to me considerable hope that in just a few years the banking sector will be completely redundant. I'll make this prediction now and lets see if I'm right...

Banks are of use to the average customer only for three reasons.

1) Somewhere to keep your money safe.

2) To facilitate transactions.

3) Credit

Now with peer to peer sites emerging like www.zopa.com savers themselves can actually earn the interest made on loans made with their money rather than the banks. We will be able to find loans directly from individuals and groups of individuals, no need to ask a bank.

If bitcoin or something like it were to gain widespread acceptance, we'd have a peer to peer electronic currency. We could encrypt our money, and send payments with our mobile phones.

With users taking the proper precautions it would be a safe store of value. No need for banks.

Great you can type extremely fast. But we should really be getting on with the c++ stuff.
Don't you think I don what the hey lets do it?  wdopod oasdkfnas do what?  it you numpty
What sddo you mean do it i mean do it what? caryy on . let's do the c++ stuff
I'm, just typing as quick;y as I can any old rubbish without even thinking about it you see i don't i'm lind no i'm deaf and dumb and have seven fingers in my mouth on a mountain
with sheep
Have you ever seen a cow jump off a cliff.
Once a friend of mine's sister was walking in the country and she scared a cow and it fell of a cliff
tragic
but funny don't you think
why can't we laugh at death. 
Why not?
I don't know?
Well I'm not scared to laugh at things like that.
If it's funny it's funny.
poor cow.
Then there was the man who lived in the moon with a spade in his pants and an elephant up his nose
he flew about all day and all night looking down on us in order that he understand our funny ways
because that's what he thought of us. How peculiar are these little blobs of water and skin
with a bulbous bit at the top that has an orifice to insert food and twists and shapes
in all sorts of subtle ways to express emotion. 
How queer are these people who line the streets in the snow of the mountains shadow.
Here comes everybody, with a big hug and a slap and a ten pence piece it's all the same to me
there is no sense in putting a stopper in an empty bottle. If I were to write like this everyday
who knows it's not the same without mel. mel was great. the idol. leave a bronze bowl at the altar
it's not far to mandalay. the place always made me curious, it's where nelly the elphant went
I wonder if she is still there. 

When thinking about the lines in the sand it's all too tough a questioin as to whether
a thought happens in the blink of an eye or in less than the blink of an eye, is time 
discrete or continouos, it's an unanswered question, that's jib, jonh pajamas, so I'll put
some ketchup on your Glaucus and walk around the room in noddy and on my hands upside down
with my face in the pillow and the sun out the window and sitting bloated and full like a
fat child on the horizon with curly hair and a big bowl of soup in his tum tum, thats the
way we did it when I was a child. I can put words in order, I can put them in order over and over
again, in this order and that order, with different words here or there, I can think of them
all and follow the rules of grammar, put them all in order and not particularly be saying 
anything at all, indeed, who ever says anything at all I'm not entirely sure. It's the quib
and the quob of the etcheline match, petals on dewey bow. Earth red is the colour I painted
my children when I painted them they sprang to the kitchen and flew out of the dishwasher into
the sink and looked for their apparatus as an apparition cautions men of fewer sentimentality
anyone can put words in orders but how can you tell when there is actually a meaning behind 
the words that is worth understanding, a structure worth imitating, I could look upon the 
moonlight hour as a watchmen in the harbour blows out his torch and spits his phlemy 
epitome out into the orchard of sea things, into the bay of brimming bruels and broads and
sinking slowly to the top of the sea bed, half a jar of brandy and a sawn of fibbia, 
looking rawly on the side of an ant square in the pajamas. 
Of the slippery slopery sandy serpentry that the sextant sought in the sever sea septembery 
he came of a slacking sartibruary sentiment in the sine of the simper pamp.
And all the while in the whimble of the tromp,
the wabe looked thineer, than the former year, 
and the tolerance of the nan, and the dam in the morning rose
she came and ejaculated a handfull off the sawdust in to the simpering sand
with arms and legs like a caterpillar on the dune, of the last king, Hotep the night
in the west, go west, lets go west and onwards down the river to the place of nights
knights, and on and on and on in an experimental fashion until the sweby swam phat onto
his ludicrous father figure, spoilt his unbegootten son a slip full of fingers, and a gold 
watch of scribuculous proportions. 
Where there is want, I shan't stop, I shall make and do, the same as the pearl on the sofa
sank and slipped down the side and it was gone and the maid ran around and spent her legs
on safron 

So said Sandy, shall some sailors sit somewhere, sell some shandy so sarah smiles soar sembrance
sooty swayed swervy snaking sepulchre, seduced sarah saucy simple sign sued savage smokey 
stropbler sourt snow slug solstive suffocate smarmy git.

Coplodger hit my dodger and ducked the doom doppler, to the soor swinging swerver.
It's the sound of the tuck saw on my roof blade that I threw out the window to the snow kitten 
hambaper

Strings

Stories don't have happy endings. Stories do not have endings, you'll live with them unraveling from you like string. These are the words of the fox. 

It isn't all that narrow to contemplate a frog leaping twice over to another lily in the valley where the  posies shy away from the poppies that grow and fumigate black phosphor to the tendrils of another boy. The same that came here when he was five and spent his time in the broken box. Lid splintered the finger on a grey cracked paint, like the time the Doves swept the cross gates to the northern entrance of the bookenheim and the tendrils locked their billows under a rocky enclave. The same man who took the phosphor gate to the underhill and spake him black with tulip tunneled caracas. His termite black hair wavering like a brill bont kebab. The same ill fated pontificat stole the armchair and talked all night before the lark came to the window and pattered a crap on the sill. The same billy boy that told his ending before it began.

A grave old man sits in an archair, spitting dunkirks at the lightwell. He caved in when the Chinerra came with their charm and their crocus bindings and lively wakers.  A tip of the glass for the dead is enough to brake the silence that they bring to the room when sober. Its not like the sign is in the bathtub today, there are too many turns of the bat to bring the cabbage to gribald cat. The tap black man came and pointed his microphone with a turning spit. To cook the interviewee until tender and wrap in a bap with barbequeue sauce. The very same Sam that spent his luck on a girl that cut his hair. It isn't that the night crowds out the day, its that the bleating beats the sheep dog who is at a loss for what is going on.

All the same things are here again and the spotted gribald looks again at his work and spends a thought for the other (w)hole that comes in from the wanderers that passed and came to the spot where he made a unification of difference. He broke that paradox when he made marionette and painted it with honey. It grew mould and  came to life. We are mouldy sacks of dew. Home to crawlies and parasites that burrowed into his head and started a family. Oblivion is just a word for the fundaments. The fundaments are those that fund the governments. Its a stapleton bake that creates the conditions for a black mail sunday roast. A normal day. Tomorrow is black. Black isn't a colour. Its a hue. The base case. From which things emerge briefly before falling back into oblivion. Sam and Sara. Eloped to Trieste.