Saturday, 12 May 2012

The Selfish Gene (random riff)

Now I like finishing Yaffle's books off for him. Annotation spoils. It is over-polishing. Atkins does exposition. So he puts the poetry on one page, hints on the other, notes in the back, and who cares about biography. Now look if you wrote this:- (attempt memory)

Her lips were red, her looks were free
Her locks were yellow as gold
Her skin was white as leprosy
The nightmare life-in-death was she
That thicks men's blood with cold

- then I advise not spending decades afterwards annotating like the saucer-eyed opium-eater. I expect he was wondering how he did it. Who gives a fuck? That's one we may call 'acceptably finished'. Do not change marinere to mariner. A child can see it fucks the rhymes. That is over-polish.

Now, take it on faith, I could topdownstepwiserefineeditmake this one formally correct. I just don't think you're worth it. I could do the 'computing' correctly too, believe me. I just find it funnier making IT types wince. They're all only doing hyper-binary-creole translation. (Sh!).

Ok, we'll get to the selfish gene later. I can scrawl on my own page, I think Yaffle may have meant for others to get a go over at his place. Lovely one to end on anyway. I did tell him to switch me off his end, but there's a boy who'll never be a nun. You know, strident. Too nice by far to do the nasties. He can't model them anyway - the little 4D printers, the sophisticated theologians. That's why they continually surprise him. He almost fell off his perch the other day when that Australian catholic said whatever he did. Dawks writes in analogy and metaphor pretty. I'll do one for him in his native language another day.

Now SamIam annoys me, because he reminds me of Gavin Henson. I forbid people to piss it all away like Henson, when their primary function is, rather obviously, to entertain me. Reading Sam these days is done with the same trepidation, - fear and trembling, Mr. Blake - as one opens the 'Western Mail', to see what Gavin's gone and fucking done this time.

Now look, just stop it, Sam. I forbid you to continue to annoy me. I give you the mens rea. No faults this end, I think you'll agree that possibility is quite implausible. Why did you write that ridiculous book? Wel, you said why. It's because you are surrounded by lunatics. You are now achieving, 'better than lunatics'. I think that's a Henson. 'Piously parroting' ace btw. That one's a corker. I hate it when a word-witch wastes them on bollox. And what's this 'free will' horse-shit you're on tour with now? Absolute horse-shit. What a fucking waste of time. No, it won't affect the law. And stop contradicting yourself mid-exposition.

Oh yes, TSG. Right, let's stop fucking about. The metaphor's fine, the ending's fine. I refuse to mentally delete anything. Meme is a dullasfuck word. Memeplex just confuses Blackmore. With her magenta not-a-real-colour hair. It masquerades as explanation. Don't be telling me, meme is a new word. I know what words are. It may impress young boys, it doesn't impress me.

Now there was something in the book about selection being at the level of the gene. Did you spot that bit? The immortal gene. Don't be worrying about metaphor. People who can't read metaphor, can go fuck themselves. I believe it was Epicurus who said that.

TEP's a riff on it. That book's spoilt by being 3/4 correcting duffers over what a gene is. Don't be giving me any obscure epigenetic punts now. You'll only be confusing yourself. And if you annoy me enough, I'll correct you. Go and do an infinite calculation, and get back to me.

I went to see Rupert, because I'd only glanced at his front page, and because of his background thought he might present an interesting puzzle. But he was just all over the place.  Btw - guess what they've got on there next? - 'Meet the faeries workshop'. Do check, I can't do them as funny as that.

Now Yaffle, you like Singer. I think he's a bit odd. But he says do Wissenschaft. Now you're not going to be able to do that if you keep being 'unqualified to comment' are you? You'll have to step out of your field. Or rather, step into the whole field. There is only one field, old bean.

The cosmogonists are making it up. They contradict each other. They are mutually exclusive theories. Straightaway, you find yourself qualified to comment that the subject is, at very best, 90% absolutely incorrect. Tarot has a far better hit rate. It's the Wigner, old bean, the Wigner! They're all smitten.

Ach! I got distracted again. Wel, if you want to retro the title, because of idiots who can't read, then perhaps give it the correct title. The whatitmeans. The correct title is, of course, 'The individual delusion'.