अनिल एकलव्य ⇔ Anil Eklavya

May 29, 2009

Milk as Karma

Someone called someone milk
Milk as noun or milk as verb?
Milk as the subject or milk as the object?
Milk as the karta or milk as the karma?

The answer appears as a vision
Of huge torrents of something
(It could very well be milk
Of, you know, something)
Flowing from one end
Of the Zipf’s Law curve
To the other end

May 22, 2009

How Many Grams?

There is an automatically (intelligently) generated blog which I have read recently.

It appears to be (let’s give ‘seems’ some rest) quite a popular one in a certain section.

I know the corpus on which it was trained.

And the corpus on which it was retrained.

(Including most of the quotes and the comments, especially the long ones).

But I wonder whether the order of n-grams was five or six.

It is definitely better than four grams.

It could even be Se7en.

This brings up a new idea.

What about writing a paper on automatically guessing the order of n-grams, given some generated text?

It may be difficult in the general case, but in our case we know the corpus on which it was trained.

Any takers?

May 11, 2009

Useless Fellas

A Skeletal Figure (SF), surely aged above seventy, wearing kurta and trousers, enters a large room where a meeting of academics is being held. The lower end of the back of the kurta is curled so much that it can make you recall the tail of an irritated chameleon. His hair is grey, as is his thin beard. Both look very ungainly. Giggles and other varieties of laughter can be heard at his entry. Some of it comes from the few students doing the duties, but most of it is from the academics. Most seem to know him, but none seem to be friendly. He seems even less friendly. In fact, he seems enraged. Yes, he is. And here he goes, as seems to be his habit:

SF: You useless fellas! You intellectual rowdies! You academic rascals! You dreamers of Turing Award! Have you ever tried to find out who Turing was? Do you know what kind of a person he was? Have you tried to know what happened to him? What was done to him?

More giggles. Some faces smile as at a likable senile.

SF: You worthless key hitters! You lazy brained paper fillers! Have you heard of Chomsky? Have you ever read a single book on libertarian socialism?

Giggles continue, but many are back to their business, now ignoring the intrusion.

SF: If you can’t do anything else, at least go and read Government in the Future and try to find some fault with it. If you can’t read, go and get the audio from the Internet. But don’t waste the bandwidth. Try first on the LAN.

Rushes out. Feelings of relief.

May 9, 2009

Inverted Inbreeding

Minus of minus is plus
And inbreeding is bad
So inverted inbreeding must be good

May 3, 2009

Rhetorical Questions on Ownership

If I compose a poem
While visiting your home
And having a post-meal nap
In your home
Does the poem belong to you?

If I write a poem
On the last page of the notebook
That you gave me and
Which contains the addresses
Of the people to whom I deliver
Items of furniture
As a means of survival
Does the poem belong to you?

If I live in a small room
Crammed with all my current
And parts of my old life
And I pay the standard rent
Regularly for the room
Like everyone else
Does a poem written in that room
Belong to you
Because I used a room owned by you?

If I burn my blood
Day and night, apart from
Doing my work under your pay
And manage to finish
A life sapping and lifespan reducing epic
Does the epic belong to you
Because I wrote it while working for you
And sometimes using your pen and ink?

But you didn’t pay me for writing it
You didn’t even ask me to write it
Most probably you didn’t even want me to
Because you don’t care for things
Written by nobodies who are working for you
And which are not worth much in the market

It may be a two penny epic
But does it belong to you?

If it happens to become a million dollar one
Does it then belong to you?

If I sit on the railway station
While waiting for a train
In the station restaurant
And write a poem on the tissue paper
Provided to me by the restaurant owner
Does the poem belong to the restaurant?

If my laptop is not working
And I borrow yours
And while I am using it
I write a poem using your laptop
Does the poem belong to you?

What if I even used
One or two words written
On the calendar hanging on your wall
Written on the cover of the notebook of addresses
Or on the hoarding visible
Only from the window of the room
Rented by me and owned by you
What if I referred to images
I see on the railway station
Or flashing on the T.V. in the restaurant
Something on the screensaver of your laptop
Or a line written on the notes
With which you paid me
Does the poem belong to you?

The poem that you keep reading
And may be keep damning
But don’t have to pay me extra for
Does it belong to you?

It does, does it?
Well, as a reader
Or as a property owner?

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