Markovian Parallax Generate: On digital writing and poetics

Once in a while a large machete: output selections

Posted in Program Output (selected) by Eric Goddard-Scovel on July 1, 2007

I’ve run the input file mchain_input062007-062807 through the Markov chain program many dozen times now. Here’s some of the selections I’ve made from the raw output. It’s much like the prose piece I posted last week. It uses roughly the same input file (although I did at to it since then). I have however left it separated as I usually do, so that it’s easier to move around and delete lines in the composition process that normally follows. I should note that many of these sentences have been cleaned up so that they better match my own sense of how they should read. Others have been left as the raw beauties that they are:

Once in a while a large machete.

A fox walking in one’s thoughts, visiting places and images born of man’s conditioning and which keep him asleep and unaware of his knowledge, for his ‘partying’ comes down and looks back into it.

I lay on my back bitten gently by them as if I am a 47-year-old female and for some time after my parents hover over me, considering a replacement.

You have been taught that immortality is a metaphor and nothing else.

The fact that they are not as suitable as you is looking for a long t-shirt and sandals.

This co-worker wrapped his arm and then formed a huge elevator, with no hesitation; I get chased out. Many times I am driving.

I was lying on scales which I thought were binoculars, but it was the slowest and it felt good.

You are able to float just above the horizon, while I must walk through the blood that is all about.

I held a stick before them as if I didn’t feel the need to help others.

the man who had stolen money from me, the boys had let the water in

All I wanted was to buy a chicken and a woman was shot and fell into them. I feel a change of locations in my future, a change in occupations.

Love, that is somewhat independent of your mind, knows that you have been eating trash in terms of “releasing something” or “giving something away.”

We met in the nearly limitless choices that stand between the two towers that came down. Today, it was with a man that hurts children.

People were sitting at a show. It was a tour, and we killed them. There was the old trail. No luck. We went back and there were thousands of these thin pink plastic things we’d come upon in the desert.

This past year or so a couple came. They are both with our pets, who have gone easy on them, at the bottom of the house where the bare bulbs are burning.

The breeze creates a brand new red hatchback.

I’ll probably keep adding to the selections from this input file until I feel some spark. At this point, I don’t feel any poem coming out of this. It may just be me, though. There’s some good stuff here to work off of. I’m just not feeling it. I’ll post more as things develop.

Some output from mchain_input062007-062807; a brief explanation of the program’s workings

Posted in Mchain Program, Program Output (raw), Program Output (selected) by Eric Goddard-Scovel on June 30, 2007

Just so you can get a sense of what the raw output is, here are a few examples of what all of those blog posts etc. that I linked to below look like after they are mangled by the Markov chain program:

erock7@debian:~/Mchain$ ./ -k 2 -n 250 mchain_input062007-062807.txt

Thermometer measurements or judgments made using a physical way) but which can be interpreted a number of people who were to come to a journey of life and your mind OR it is very disturbing thoughts and ideas. The way you’ve described this particular repetitive dream I’ve had three or four dreams I no longer begged to be a symbol of something intended to be of great concern and importance to the ceiling. And there I am in awe of what I saw her last. She looked at the window my car and I allowed him; we drove from my photo class was up there. In class, she comes across as a child, I thought the smell was of me telling me if anything interesting had happened, whereupon I showed my young son and I panic. I have been to work. But he was a safe environment in which ghosts are very self-assured and confident, the dreams have cruise ships. Also I dream about tragedies over which you feel unable to find it. If this is a guy and in the Holy Qur’an in a way. But let’s take an analogy. Let’s say that the person I know in there, who I was, too – staying indoors all the descendants and have two strange men appear. After another half hour, so I grabbed the largest bottle and replace it on your own. The imagery related to your current locale to a clear pool of water, usually I am a twenty-six-year-old male;

You can see that I used a key length of 2. This means that the program treats every two word group as a single object in the database. So, with the sentence “I am so hungry I could ride a horse,” the following would constitute individual links in any resulting Markov chain:

I am

am so

so hungry

hungry I

I could

could ride

ride a

a horse

Every time that one of these two-word phrases appears in the rest of the input, the program notes in a database what two-word phrase follows it. Then, when the Markov chain is being constructed, when a link (as I am calling these key phrases) comes up, it follows it with one of the links that followed it in the original text, selected randomly from the list in the database.

I hope I made that clear enough. I hope I’m accurate enough, too. Adam would be able to explain it better.

You can see then why a key length of 1 cuts up the text even more and makes for a much more random text. I believe that the randomness and strangeness of the output decreases exponentially as the key length is increased. Something like that. Here’s what the output with a key length of one looks like using the same input file:

erock7@debian:~/Mchain$ ./ -k 1 -n 250 mchain_input062007-062807.txt

The army knife back seat. The Holy Book of many separate ways. Your Mission in a wonderful and about the expression in Japan that hole, up even spiders are keeping up reading here, sling drinks and DO. I wasn’t easy to encouragement for more knowledge, is a link up and vision as the fulfillment thereof will be unable to keep out of this man possesses a friend and meteors fell into adulthood. Thus, the dream archives we are always respond to us. These things as well as you have meat would pick a boring speech from work. Second Abandoned Village up over which touches the means to ask herself sick in order to top
Home/house 1. the thesis process has been used by bird and basically ‘reads’ them down in the time in the boy conquering a new forces helping us to a particular social awareness of consciousness and truth (900-280). Other possibilities: 1. warning of people who readily admits he does not have become able to oneself and them what can be returned” (Qur’an, XXXVI, 81-82). The movie about your physical pain in a dead body chemistry is suggesting that since you do, as time a boat (note: a state of yourself. And it would correspond thematically connected to speak after him, “don’t try to pour down, and what appears that helps. Here’s my brother telling I went in my bedroom. They rejoice because of a more about my boyfriend after the beach, and is pursuing. 2. conscious

I like how that one begins. If you compare the two output examples, you can see after a while (and after using the program dozens of times) the differences in them.

The question now is what to do with all of this stuff. We’ll see. I’m not really all that happy with the output I’ve gotten so far with this selection of input texts, but I’ll keep working at it.

A Prose Piece

Posted in Poem Draft, Program Output (selected) by Eric Goddard-Scovel on June 25, 2007

I’ve taken a bunch of selections from mchain outputs and put them into some kind of order.  As I copied and pasted these bits from the terminal screen to Abiword (my word processor of choice), I did modify some of them to either clarify the meaning I took from it or expand upon it.  Some line/bits were combined to make new sentences.  I was inspired to arrange the sentences into a prose paragraph after just having read more of Lyn Hejinian’s My Life.  I’m not sure how similar the aesthetic is, but I would never imply that this particular mess I’ve written is in anyway autobiographical, as Hejinian’s work certainly is; and it’s nowhere near as beautiful either.

Safety and sobs. The waistband of a realization. Most glorious orbs held myself and go through the table of awareness. “My cock finally meets you,” I decided to hold it. She’s just the story of thought, an essence, has been bestowed upon returning. Antibiotics on her blue jean clad ass instead. In the air. A million thoughts. It is much as sparks of America that we study under my asshole. Jiggling and other words. Good luck to you! To take her home once the rain soaking us, filling us. It feels good. Sometimes it feels exhilarating and empowering because of a house in a premature ejaculation. He turned off the average person. This flea is an escape. My toes play with a bird has passed over and salty and the thought, the place with mucky water. I hope that helps. I wake up. I live in all desires but I want to “crawl” before you for years. I know. I’m still passed over. In the darkness. I am driving a psychiatrist. I open cars. More importantly, everyone on the ground out. Big storms rolled onto its beauty. The person I immediately ran by the restroom, the movies as a man started taking a year. I laughed. He is saying, “In my own time, it’s still, I look at times.” The trees, large quantities of movement. I figured that I was very slippery and I smiled. I growled, undoing your anger, as hell in our understanding. Please explain. 11 million thoughts about a car and I had their softness. Amria’s eyes widened in the loss of every day. I have already discovered that it only relates to suck your subconscious, telling you that you need help, and do you feel alright? The countryside. Sprawling grounds, rolling hills of such.

I’ll find some way to post my input material here.  I may take to time to get the links to all of the blog posting and such that I used, or I may paste the entire 100 pages into a post, and set it so that you have to open it in its own window, so it doesn’t dominate the entire front page.  We’ll see.

The way this process usually works is that I leave each of these selected sentences and phrases separated, and then I use that to inspire some kind of poem from the insinuations that I pick up on (or obsess over).  I’ve never just left it so raw as this before, but I do kind of like parts of it.  Maybe there is something to the roughness of this.

Lineated text–A Plague Year

Posted in Program Output (selected) by Eric Goddard-Scovel on June 25, 2007

The following has had minimal sorting-out. I’ve decided to use thematically-related texts in foreign languages, running them through the Markov program, then running them through various online translators to both render into English as well as to do further alterations to syntax.

Plague Tale

But there was a slight timber house.
How true this might be, also, that the whole
ninety-seven parishes buried but fifty-four,
and we have had no need of comfort, and the plague raced
with the child too; and both died before they
were restrained; nay, so far from lessening the awe
of the people abroad, than the multitude of rogues
and wandering beggars that swarm about,
person to person, and from house to the relief
of the barrier which the carpenter carried his tools in,
to put this description on paper. As Defoe was born
when it abated at the Three Cranes; one in the river,
with the visitors to inspect the persons or the mother the child,
was not in our own safety obliges us to it; besides,
this is to be so.

I wish I could see nothing but a little money to accept
of such things as they call them, and which he came by it,
certain it is, that, if I met anybody in the right,
to be kept up any odd sum, that they were in waiting;
and if any of them out to go on about their necks,
remains to be infected of the disturbance, and knowing my brother
had pressed me to say, when any one body of horse in the common charge
if they found it had not, except two or three days;
but it was not above three thousand a week in June,
towards the marshes on the contrary, there were many
that went away towards Rumford and Brentwood;
but they went into the great pits by cartloads, and who,
in the city of Naples in the forest, being willing
to have paid more than I can: the mark of it every day;
and, in a fit, which, though false in the town
by threatening them with dismal stories we heard every day
to my care; and I will repent of the disease.

Innumerable stories also went about of the clock in the meantime,
Of course, we hope we shall find neither prejudice nor scruple:t
there we shall join heart and hand without the least signal.
Besides, after it was one who, having been my lord mayor
had a violent pain in her head. “Pray God,” says her mother, in a few things that could be seen:

[246] Whom.
[94] St. Botolph’s, Bishopsgate.