maldv/crabcanon · Datasets at Hugging Face

text stringlengths 0 174

Achilles: That's quite a bit to swallow. I never imagined there could be a world above
mine before-and now you're hinting that there could even be one above that. It's like
walking up a familiar staircase, and just keeping on going further up after you've
reached the top-or what you'd always taken to be the top!

Crab: Or waking up from what you took to be real life, and finding out it too was just a
dream. That could happen over and over again, no telling when it would stop.

Achilles: It's most perplexing how the characters in my dreams have wills of their own,
and act out parts which are independent of MY will. It's as if my mind, when I'm
dreaming, merely forms a stage on which certain other organisms act out their lives.
And then, when I awake, they go away. I wonder where it is they go to ...

Author: They go to the same place as the hiccups go, when you get rid of them:
Tumbolia. Both the hiccups and the dreamed beings are software suborganisms which
exist thanks to the biology of the outer host organism. The host organism serves as
stage to them-or even as their universe. They play out their lives for a time-but when
the host organism makes a large change of state-for example, wakes up-then the
suborganisms lose their coherency, and case existing as separate, identifiable units.

Achilles: Is it like castles in the sand which vanish when a wave washes over them?

Author: Very much like that, Achilles. Hiccups, dream characters, and even Dialogue
characters disintegrate when their host organism undergoes certain critical changes of
state. Yet, just like those sand castles you described, everything which made them up
is still present.

Achilles: I object to being likened to a mere hiccup!

Author: But I am also comparing you to a sand castle, Achilles. Is that not poetic?
Besides, you may take comfort in the fact that if you are but a hiccup in my brain, I
myself am but a hiccup in some higher author's brain.

Achilles: But I am such a physical creature-so obviously made of flesh and blood and
hard bones. You can't deny that'

Author: I can't deny your sensation of it, but remember that dreamed beings, although
they are just software apparitions, have the same sensation, no less than you do.

Tortoise: I say, enough of this talk! Let us sit down and make music!

Crab: A fine idea-and now we have the added pleasure of the company of our Author,
who will grace our ears with his rendition of the bass line to the Trio Sonata, as
harmonized by Bach's pupil Kirnberger. How fortunate are we! (Leads the author to
one of his pianos.) I hope Not, find the seat comfortable enough. To adjust it, you- (In
the background there is heard a Junn~ soft oscillating sound.)

Tortoise: Excuse me, but what was that strange electronic gurgle?

Crab: Oh, just a noise from one of the smart-stupids. Such a noise generally signals the
fact that a new notice has flashed onto the screen. Usually the notices are just
unimportant announcements coming from the main monitor program, which controls
all the smart-stupids. (With his flute in his hand, he walks over to a smart-stupid, and
reads its screen. Immediately he turns to the assembled musicians, and says, with a
kind of agitation:) Gentlemen, old Ba. Ch. is come. (He lays the flute aside.) We must
show him in immediately, of course.

Achilles: Old Ba. Ch.! Could it be that that celebrated improviser of yore has chosen to
show up tonight-HERE%

Tortoise: Old Ba. Ch.! There's only one person THAT could mean-the renowned
Babbage, Charles, Esq., M.A., F.R.S., F.R.S.E., F.R.A.S., F. STAT. S„ HON.
M.R.LA., M.C.P.S., Commander of the Italian Order of St. Maui-ice and St. Lazarus,
INST. IMP. (ACAD. MORAL.) PARIS CORR., ACAD. AMER. ART. ET SC.
BOSTON, REG. OECON. BORCSS., PHYS. HISI. NAT. GENEV., ACAD. REG.
MONAC., HAFN., MASSIL., ET DIVION., SOCIUS., ACAD. IMP., ET REG.
PETROP., NEAP., BRUX., PATAV., GEORG. FLOREN, LYNCEI ROM., MCT.,
PHILOMATH., PARIS, SOC. CORR., etc.-and Member of the Extractors' Club.
Charles Babbage is a venerable pioneer of the art and science of computing. What a
rare privilege!

Crab: His name is known far and wide, and I have long hoped that he would give us the
honor of a visit-but this is a totally unexpected surprise.

Achilles: Does he play a musical instrument?

Crab: I have heard it said that in the past hundred years, he has grown inexplicably fond
of tom-toms, halfpenny whistles, and sundry other street instruments.

Achilles: In that case, perhaps he might join us in our musical evening. .Author: I suggest
that we give him a ten-canon salute.

Tortoise: A performance of all the celebrated canons from the Musical Offering.

Author: Precisely.

Crab: Capital suggestion! Quick, Achilles, you draw up a list of all ten of them, in the
order of performance, and hand it to him as he comes in!

(Before Achilles can move, enter Babbage, carrying a hurdy-gurdy, and wearing a
heavy traveling coat and hat. He appears slightly travel-weary and disheveled.)

Babbage: I can get along very well without such a program. Relax; I Can Enjoy Random
Concerts And Recitals.

Crab: Mr. Babbage! It is my deepest pleasure to welcome you to "Madstop", my humble
residence. I have been ardently desirous of making your acquaintance for many years,
and today my wish is at last fulfilled.

Achilles: That's quite a bit to swallow. I never imagined there could be a world above

mine before-and now you're hinting that there could even be one above that. It's like

walking up a familiar staircase, and just keeping on going further up after you've

reached the top-or what you'd always taken to be the top!

Crab: Or waking up from what you took to be real life, and finding out it too was just a

dream. That could happen over and over again, no telling when it would stop.

Achilles: It's most perplexing how the characters in my dreams have wills of their own,

and act out parts which are independent of MY will. It's as if my mind, when I'm

dreaming, merely forms a stage on which certain other organisms act out their lives.

And then, when I awake, they go away. I wonder where it is they go to ...

Author: They go to the same place as the hiccups go, when you get rid of them:

Tumbolia. Both the hiccups and the dreamed beings are software suborganisms which

exist thanks to the biology of the outer host organism. The host organism serves as

stage to them-or even as their universe. They play out their lives for a time-but when

the host organism makes a large change of state-for example, wakes up-then the

suborganisms lose their coherency, and case existing as separate, identifiable units.

Achilles: Is it like castles in the sand which vanish when a wave washes over them?

Author: Very much like that, Achilles. Hiccups, dream characters, and even Dialogue

characters disintegrate when their host organism undergoes certain critical changes of

state. Yet, just like those sand castles you described, everything which made them up

is still present.

Achilles: I object to being likened to a mere hiccup!

Author: But I am also comparing you to a sand castle, Achilles. Is that not poetic?

Besides, you may take comfort in the fact that if you are but a hiccup in my brain, I

myself am but a hiccup in some higher author's brain.

Achilles: But I am such a physical creature-so obviously made of flesh and blood and

hard bones. You can't deny that'

Author: I can't deny your sensation of it, but remember that dreamed beings, although

they are just software apparitions, have the same sensation, no less than you do.

Tortoise: I say, enough of this talk! Let us sit down and make music!

Crab: A fine idea-and now we have the added pleasure of the company of our Author,

who will grace our ears with his rendition of the bass line to the Trio Sonata, as

harmonized by Bach's pupil Kirnberger. How fortunate are we! (Leads the author to

one of his pianos.) I hope Not, find the seat comfortable enough. To adjust it, you- (In

the background there is heard a Junn~ soft oscillating sound.)

Tortoise: Excuse me, but what was that strange electronic gurgle?

Crab: Oh, just a noise from one of the smart-stupids. Such a noise generally signals the

fact that a new notice has flashed onto the screen. Usually the notices are just

unimportant announcements coming from the main monitor program, which controls

all the smart-stupids. (With his flute in his hand, he walks over to a smart-stupid, and

reads its screen. Immediately he turns to the assembled musicians, and says, with a

kind of agitation:) Gentlemen, old Ba. Ch. is come. (He lays the flute aside.) We must

show him in immediately, of course.

Achilles: Old Ba. Ch.! Could it be that that celebrated improviser of yore has chosen to

show up tonight-HERE%

Tortoise: Old Ba. Ch.! There's only one person THAT could mean-the renowned

Babbage, Charles, Esq., M.A., F.R.S., F.R.S.E., F.R.A.S., F. STAT. S„ HON.

M.R.LA., M.C.P.S., Commander of the Italian Order of St. Maui-ice and St. Lazarus,

INST. IMP. (ACAD. MORAL.) PARIS CORR., ACAD. AMER. ART. ET SC.

BOSTON, REG. OECON. BORCSS., PHYS. HISI. NAT. GENEV., ACAD. REG.

MONAC., HAFN., MASSIL., ET DIVION., SOCIUS., ACAD. IMP., ET REG.

PETROP., NEAP., BRUX., PATAV., GEORG. FLOREN, LYNCEI ROM., MCT.,

PHILOMATH., PARIS, SOC. CORR., etc.-and Member of the Extractors' Club.

Charles Babbage is a venerable pioneer of the art and science of computing. What a

rare privilege!

Crab: His name is known far and wide, and I have long hoped that he would give us the

honor of a visit-but this is a totally unexpected surprise.

Achilles: Does he play a musical instrument?

Crab: I have heard it said that in the past hundred years, he has grown inexplicably fond

of tom-toms, halfpenny whistles, and sundry other street instruments.

Achilles: In that case, perhaps he might join us in our musical evening. .Author: I suggest

that we give him a ten-canon salute.

Tortoise: A performance of all the celebrated canons from the Musical Offering.

Author: Precisely.

Crab: Capital suggestion! Quick, Achilles, you draw up a list of all ten of them, in the

order of performance, and hand it to him as he comes in!

(Before Achilles can move, enter Babbage, carrying a hurdy-gurdy, and wearing a

heavy traveling coat and hat. He appears slightly travel-weary and disheveled.)

Babbage: I can get along very well without such a program. Relax; I Can Enjoy Random

Concerts And Recitals.

Crab: Mr. Babbage! It is my deepest pleasure to welcome you to "Madstop", my humble

residence. I have been ardently desirous of making your acquaintance for many years,

and today my wish is at last fulfilled.