“Our logic is full of holes...
I can see the bubbles.”
This part of the website is dead. It is kept online both as a public record and as a dreadful warning. For current content, please consult the root of this domain.
void* Randomness ( )
/* How are you gentlemen? All your James Joyce are belong to us! */
{
/* March 27, 2004 */
/* It feels like there's a flame in the back of my throat. It licks the back of my pallette with feeble heat. Like someone's lit a candle in my oesophagus.

Some days there's nothing but masks. All the way down. Lies upon lies upon lies. */
/* March 21, 2004 */
/* I'm back in Soton now. It's nice to hear the servers whirring as I sleep... */
/* March 8, 2004 */
/* I rather wish I could buy sleep like mobile phone credit, in addition to sleeping the normal way. Just present my card and say "I'd like six extra hours please" and hand over a probably inordinate amount of cash and just be recharged. Not to replace the existing system, merely to augment it, say at around essay time. */
return 0;
}

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