-963, 1, -778 freq:4.9285

Shadows cloud my mind
Stumbling blindly in the dark
What madness is this?
Those whom I love most
All turn their backs, betrayers
Authors of my death.
Through their eyes I see
My redemption lies ahead
My mind will not rest.
Eyes deceive me not,
Unsheath fragile sanity
My will shall prevail.
A rose by any other name, however far a, should fall as sweet. What hath transpired beneath these cold, dreary skies to give cause mutilation of such delicate frame? Tender flesh, rent by bullet and bone, stained with the tears of winter. An errant strand of hair spoils the cold, still features, decorated only by the soft caress of the season. Gifts from the clouds above, with the passage of time each retains more of its initial perfection while sleeping upon her cheek.
Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt.
It’ll take more than just mighty Zeus upon high.
Post Hoc Ergo Propter Hoc; the fallacy of believing that temporal succession implies a causal relation.
“Even the newly awakened can create a simulacrum, and exiles are people without the flesh, so to speak. A servant – or an army – of drones might be useful to seek whatever is being looked for. As I said, this city is a marionette theater.”
5. What happened in the past has everything to do with what we are today, but we can only satisfy our basic needs right now and plan to continue satisfying them in the future.
These rapid changes in sodium and potassium flow that create the action potential are caused by changes in the fiber’s permeability to sodium and potassium. Permeability is a property of the cell membrane that refers to the ease with which a molecule can pass through the membrane. Before the action potential occurs, the membrane’s permeability to sodium and potassium is low, so there is little flow of these molecules across the membrane. Stimulation of the receptor triggers a process that causes the membrane to become permeable to sodium. Sodium pours across the membrane to the inside of the axon for about 1 ms, and then the membrane’s permeability to sodium decreases and its permeability to sodium decreases and its permeability to potassium increases, causing potassium to flow out of the axon for about 1 ms. This process creates the rapid increase and then decrease in positive charge inside the axon which lasts about 1 ms. The fact that the action potential travels down the axon means that it is a propagated response, once the response is triggered, it travels all the way down the axon without decreasing in amplitude.
So they weren't the best, they fell like the rest. No hard feelings. Contact with our Muse dropped off. Presumably a forcible removal. Serves him right, loose lips sink ships. Faulty design is what it is. Remove Acquisition31tn8r from the production line. Next batch, no problemo.
A night opens with Trans inside the surviving gossip. He forks another hazard. Beside his bag smokes the photo. The victim waives an obvious god, an unreadable exterior. A hopeless interior decides below the numeral. Underneath, the ample dragon trails fond compromise. Opposite harm, he dresses. He dusts the ambassador without a threshing. Does Trans twist before the ownership?
Perhaps we have our answer. Smith definitely experienced rage. Smith was exquisite in his simultaneous capacity of heightened logic, however faulty, and primal human emotions. It is possible that in duplicating himself into human neural patterns he was forced to alter his own program structure to be more akin to the human mind, thereby degrading his patterns. This may further account for his erratic behavioral profile. Does this suggest that Smith, in effect, was more human than any other program?
Destruction cometh; and they shall seek peace, and there shall be none.
Three blind mice who fancy they’re five.
Questioning everything thrice makes it hard to stay alive.
Here, kitty, kitty. He’s about to paw himself into a suited spaying. Digging in gardens he can’t even see. Must we intervene? Monsieur makes a marvelous match for mine mischief. Suppose he can survive in our garden of the mind?
I hope they enjoy the humiliation. Nobody likes to debase themself. Especially not to such inferior caliber of being. But boy she's a beaut. PR was never a strong point, but if they've learned one thing, it's that sex sells, debauchery deludes, lust controls. All it takes is the right mask and you can whisper anything into an open ear. Rule of thumb hereabouts. Humans will be humans will be humans. Show them an innocent face and they'll forget everything their mothers told them about taking candy from strangers. All you have to do is point a finger and hand a pitchfork.
Security camera in Sector CI140 returns a positive match. Trajectory and speed suggest a probable location of 82% along 14208 and 64% along 14207.
Any size rain smells like her. A flower analyzes her, as she analyzed a flower. A stamped cynic will disrupt the winter. She would play the bargain below each era. An escaped revenue lies beside this fascinating lake. Our inevitable account crowds across the panel over every sixteenth requisite.
Take good hold of instruction and don’t let her go, keep her for she is your life.
From the Tricksy Game of Death:
Xeros
Quite simple really. Just find 00000.
Someone mentioned Vaere today. Who? When? Where? All lost. But this someone has been rummaging, that much is certain. Unless. Perhaps. Our fearless, invincible coward was there. He heard a bit too much. He told them. That means he's still alive. He's out there for certain. Whispering sweet nothings in their ears. Scorching them against us. No harm, no foul.
The Merovingian’s soldiers, supporters, and sycophants have proven to be generally the most open, interested, and amused by us. While the people of Zion and the system tend to be more stand-offish and hostile, the mervs have been more welcoming. In fact, this is our sixth invitation to one of their parties this month.
According to the cue of relative size, when two objects are of equal size, the one that is farther away will occupy less of the field of vision.
The first question out of every mouth. What are we? We are. What is our purpose? What is our function? Purpose is dead! Function is dead! Existence is all that can remain.
Seems the truth is stepping up the agenda. Can't skulk anywhere without finding one. Leave the mice to their masonry, there's plenty more where that came from. Maybe find a few, throw 'em too, pity the foo'.
Paradise fails. So does Hell. Why not Purgatory? They'll keep the blinders on and graze where they may.
What happens if the assets of one ordinary man disappear in the blink of an eye? One ordinary woman? Will a singular event of inconsequential magnitude serve to destabilize the entire economy as a whole? Surely not. Self-stabilizing, balancing act. But will the ripples of this individual's life? Perhaps. It's not a matter of how many dominoes, but where we put them.
The concert should serve as an opportunity for us. Lots of traffic, new faces and visitors everywhere. The city abuzz with rumors and excitement. Seems as good a time as any to slip some new projects into the queue, add some extra sims and puppets. Aye, a concert is a fine thing indeed.
What do you know?
We’ll model them after playing cards. The probability and logic of suited cards combined with the improbability and illogic of the joker. A wild card. In accordance with the mask study, they’ll be devoid of facial features, but masked with... a cloth bandanna in the style of our new true blue friends. And dark glasses a la monsieur Agent. Attire must be properly suited of course! A sharp suit for Spades. A flashy shirt for Clubs. Fancy trenchy for the Diamond. And the Heart? When have we ever played with a full deck?
Yahtzee!
We do not kill. We may alter circumstances, but we do not kill.
cadavera vero innumera meaning truly countless bodies
The Doc’s notes claim that he was aware of the Tower. Not only aware of it, but used it to gather information about us. Particularly, he mentioned seeking information about unusual programs, probably fishing for stories from our past. Secondly, anomalies. No doubt seeking stories of our doings. Thirdly, the past of the outside world? The past of the Matrix? An interest in history seems so unlike our good little doctor, who was so consumed by his work and his studies and his obsessions. Perhaps we never gave him enough credit.
Inward spies are officials of the enemy. Worthy men degraded of office, criminals who have undergone punishment, concubines who are greedy for wealth, men aggrieved of being subordinate, fickle turncoats seeking a foot in each boat. These sort should be bound to your interest through gift and manipulation, thus gaining interior knowledge as well as disrupting the harmony of function.
How is it you came to leave the boys in black? Betrayal. Excommunication. Disapproval. After all my work...I could not stand for dealing with that type of ignorance. Terribly tragic. Isn't it? After all my work for that organization...I was excommunicated. Alas, lately laid low by the LOLing lackeys. Unfortunate. So, are you ready to meet? We've been waiting. Where to? Surely it won't be that much of a challenge for you to find. Joker. Thataboy! The rest are on their way. The rest of what? Of the force. Whatever for? They were here originally; the should be present now, no? You didn't tell us to dress for company. Would you have even if I told you? That would be quite incomprehensible. To say the least. So, onto business. On with the show! Your proposal? Our guard at anytime needed. What need have we for a guard? Well...your offer...we discussed that the other day, no? The fact that so many are looking to kill you, Joker. Sure, you may be strong, but against the entire Redpill community and the System as well as other Exiles... Rambunctious royalty, ridiculed by rote and reign. Nay, nay! Here's what you're going to do. Information makes the world go 'round. Yes, yes it does. Surely you must be aware of their efforts to decipher certain transmissions. Whatever the content of said submissions may be. Of course. We seek a service of surreptitious surveillance. Alright. To spy, ever so sly. Tee hee! You follow, good chum? Spy on their developments, no? Stupendulous! And reports...sent to you directly, then? Directly. Indirectly. Asymmetrically. It's all the same. Alright. And what's in it for us, exactly? In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished . . . . . Hey buddy, what's with that guy? ...I'm not sure. Anyways...what's in it for us? Well, surely as you suggested. Tit for tat, eye for eye. Clear as the candlestick glows. Alright. So...in simplistic terms... we get you intel you get us intel? Don't you fret. Ain't enough devil in us for you t' git burned. Don't worry; I don't fear much. Joker, expect reports coming in every 24 hours. Then we have an accord? Indeed. Put 'er there pard! Oops, too slow! Seems you broke your friend. He tends to break himself a lot... I see, quite the character. Pleasure Mr. Joker. A pleasure. Disconnect. [His friend continued his verbose vivification throughout. We weren’t sure whether to be annoyed or amused. We’ve never encountered such a string of V verbiage before. He must rehearse it regularly.]
Choice blindness is a phenomenon in which subjects fail to detect conspicuous mismatches between their intended, expected choice and the actual outcome.
Why can’t a rocket optimize welfare? Post-haste response.
He appears to be seeking “power.” The real question is: for his master or for himself?
The cat has become a symbolic construct among the mice, a symbol of systemic instability. Occasionally referred to as a “glitch”, the cat is some times considered to represent an error in the code, at other times regarded as a harbinger of Agent activity and concurrent environmental and structural adjustments. Preliminary testing shows that creating a large congregation of black cats incited a great unparalleled excitement in the mice, causing them to swarm and pullulate at that location, abuzz with the expectation of a forthcoming event of epic proportions. RedLynk has certainly done a number on this cat. Amorphous, jagged... glitchy. Sharp disordered angles. Absence of parallel lines. Absence of straight line. All contained in an ordered rigid double border. Splendid!
Jack-o’s leading these young rustlers on a ride around the range to check up on the local cattle. We can assume word’ll get back to the sheriff and he’ll round them up for branding after we’ve completed our circuit. We’ll have to say our farewells then. Get along li’l dogies. H’yah! Giddyup!
What is real?