Project 3

The first part of this post will be my series of algorithmic texts and their originals.

A Second Post concerning project 3 will follow and will be the metatext.


1. The first text, is a religious text that has been put through the god shannonizer. I have also decided (based on the reccomendation of one of my group partners) to put the religious text through another voice, in this case Dr. Seuss.

The Original:

The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:He leadeth me beside the still waters.He restoreth my soul:He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name' sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,I will fear no evil: For thou art with me;Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies;Thou annointest my head with oil; My cup runneth over.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,and I will dwell in the House of the Lord forever.

The "God Version"

The Lord is my voice; Thou shalt have done so? bury therefore thy lips are like a thread of blood according to death, my brother. Yea, they were smitten, and wash thy staff, hearken to lie down before me and the LORD, that betwixt me and thy womb, and thy God of my bone and my daughter! And I will fear no evil: Alas, and mercy shall not want. Be fruitful, I my name of mine enemies; am I will dwell in vain; Thou preparest a pomegranate split open, I will dwell in vain; for His name sake. Yea, it was very good. He restoreth my voice; Thou annointest my life, and said: I will make thess swear by the days of my voice; Thy rod and I delivered thee out of Zion.

The "Dr. Seuss" Version

The Lord is fun to sing if you chew, though I do not like a mouse is my little bed. They come along humming, they comfort me.Thou preparest a shame! Say! Say! And cheese? Try them! Try them! What a mouse is my little car with paddles and mercy shall follow me to sing with heads in the bottle's on a mouse. Yea, though I will fear no good.. Say! No! I do tricks with oil; I do not like my head with heads in the paths of the presence of mine enemies;Thou annointest my little car with oil; My feet stick out of sour gooseberry jam! That's what that Zummers call it a puddle paddle battle in the moon, though I do not like my little car with heads in the Goo-Goose, though I walk through the bottle's on fifty hippo-heimers!


2. The text that follows is the opening of a short story I am writing. The story itself is not yet complete, but I thought it would be interesting to see what happened to it when it was altered by the travesty text on level 6 with an output of 2500 characters.

The Original

“It’s cold tonight, so I will try to make my long tale of sorrow as brief as possible. Come closer, friend. I wish to remain to remain in the shadows. Better to remain inconspicuous in these dark times.”
“The night my story begins was similar to this one; cold and damp, and an aching chill settled deep into my bones…”
A heavy gloom wormed its way in between the narrow lanes of the old Victorian neighborhood. The residents could feel it weighing on their hearts and minds. An intense and unexplained depression overcame them as they traveled through the wrought iron gate that dominated the entrance of the moderately sized neighborhood. It was a strange feeling to be feeling upbeat and happy only to have that positive energy zapped away as you crossed the border to go home.
It was around 10:30 in the evening, and I was walking back home from a local diner that I worked at about half a mile into town. It had been a good night at work, I was coming home with fifty bucks in my right front pocket, and girl’s phone number in my front left. You could say that there was a certain bounce in my step that night. Nothing could bring down my good mood, or so I thought.
I pulled my parka closer around me and picked up my pace. As I started to climb the last hill before my neighborhood I saw the top of the Iron Gate appear on the horizon. As I got to the top of the hill I noticed a thick fog that was weaving its way in and out of the dark iron columns. As I crossed my last thought was “how strange it was to see fog at the top of a hill…” I hadn’t gone three paces beyond the gate when my vision faded to black…


The Travesty Version

“It’s cold tonight, so I thought. I pulled my last thought iron columns. As I crossed the evening, and I was walking back home with fifty bucks in my front left. You could feel it weighing on the shadows. Better to go home. It was “how strange it was to see fog at the top of the dark times.” “The night. Nothing chill settled deep into my bones…” A heavy gloom wormed its way in between the hill before my neighborhood. The residents could bring down my good mood, or so I will try to make my long tale of sorrow as brief as possible. Come closer around me and picked up my pace. As I crossed my last hill I noticed a thick fog that was a strange it was around me and picked up my parka closer around 10:30 in these dark iron columns. As I got to this one; cold tonight, so I will try to make my long tale of sorrow as brief as possible. Come closer, friend. I wish to remain to remain inconspicuous in the evening, and an aching could feel it weighing on their hearts and minds. An intense and unexplained depression overcame them as they traveled through the wrought iron columns. As I got to this one; cold tonight, so I thought. I pulled my last thought was around 10:30 in the shadows. Better to go home. It was a certain bounce in my right front left. You could say that I worked at about half a mile into town. It had been a good mood, or so I thought. I pulled my last thought was to see fog at there was a strange it was a strange it was weaving its way in between the horizon. As I got to the top of a hill…” I hadn’t gone three paces beyond the entrance of the hill before my neighborhood. The residents could say that dominated the gate when my vision faded to climb the last hill before my neighborhood. It was weaving its way in between the horizon. As I started to climb the last hill I noticed a thick fog that was weaving its way in between the narrow lanes of the dark times.” “The night my step that was to see fog at the top of the dark times.” “The night. Nothing could feel it weighing on their hearts and minds. An intense and picked up my parka closer, friend. I wish to remain in the narrow lanes of the old Victorian neighborhood I saw the top of a hill…” I hadn’t gone three paces beyond the gate when my vision faded to black… “It’s cold and damp, and an aching could bring down my good mood, or so I will try to make my long tale of sorrow as brief as possible. Come closer, friend. I wish to remain inconspicuous in the shadows. Better to go home. It was to see fog at the top o


3. Finally I really liked a previous post in my blog of the first few stanzas of the Raven being translates. In this case I chose to do English>Arabic >English

The original:

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door."'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door-Only this, and nothing more."Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.Eagerly I wished the morrow;- vainly I had sought to borrowFrom my books surcease of sorrow- sorrow for the lost Lenore-For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore-Nameless here for evermore.And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtainThrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door-Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;-This it is, and nothing more."Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,That I scarce was sure I heard you"- here I opened wide the door;-Darkness there, and nothing more.


After the translations
Once at midnight dreary, while I pondered, and weak and weary, For more than strange and surprising volume of forgotten traditions, While the first header, some napping, suddenly there was eavesdropping, As some one gently rap, hip-hop music in my room door. " 'Tis some visitor," I'm stammering, "In my circle tapping on the door Only this, no more, no less. " Oh, I remember clearly that it was dark in December, Die each chapter of the shadow of indifference to the floor. I wanted very much after; - you might seek in vain to borrow My Books of the freeze between the grief of sadness for the loss of Lenore -- For the first of them rare and radiant angels named Lenore -- Did not name him here forever. Sadly, Hariri is uncertain each stolen from the purple curtain Filled me with excitement I did not fantastic terrors never felt before; So far, my heart is still beating, I stood repetition, " 'Tis some visiting invocation at the entrance door of my room Some visitors at the entrance to the late invoke the door of my room; -- This is nothing more and nothing less. " Is a spiritual grown stronger; then no longer hesitant, "Sir," Lee said, "or Madam, truly appeal to your forgiveness; But in fact, I nap, so gently you came knocking, This came faintly you tapping, tapping at the door of the room in my country, I am sure you heard the rare "- here I opened the door wide; -- There are dark, no more, no less.