A programmer in the US is using Amazon’s EC2 cloud computing system in order to prove the infinite monkey theorem. If you’re like me (and I sincerely hope you’re not), you’ve heard of this not because you have a deep love for and understanding of probability theory but because of references from The Simpsons. I may have heard it in school, but I think even the teacher was referring to the same epsidoe, “Last Exit to Springfield” – arguably the greatest episode – in which Burns has a thousand Monkey’s working on a thousand typewriters. Jesse Anderson, the US programmer, is using a computer model to mimic the experiment – one can imagine the cost and perhaps outrage of animal rights groups if this test were actually conducted – and with some constraints will actually be able to finish the entire works of Shakespeare. A random sequence of nine characters is created and checked against all the texts to see if there is a match, otherwise it is discarded. Each match is saved until all of the works have been recreated. Without this restraint, if each work had to be created in it’s entirety, it would take, well, a long time. There are 5.5 trillion different combinations of any nine characters from the English alphabet. Burn’s monkey came up with the line “It was the best of time, it was the blurst of times”, a reference to A Tale of Two Cities (not Shakespeare). A zoo in the UK put a keyboard in the cage with six crested macaques who produced five pages of the letter “S” and broke the keyboard – still better than the writing in seasons 4, 5 and 6 of Lost. Enjoy the Simpsons clip.
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Bernd would have been proud. The premier of the latest adaptation of The Three Musketeers is a milestone in the development of the film market in Germany. While the country has been the backdrop for numerous Hollywood-productions of late, such as: Valkyrie, The Reader, and Inglourious Basterds, the new 100 million dollar production price tag marks Germany’s most expensive film – shot and developed entirely at home, it is intended for worldwide consumption. 


NME’s Short Schrift for This Modern Glitch
Again I hate to deviate from the world of film, but I just couldn’t get over Barry Nicolson’s review of the new Wombat’s album. You don’t have to read it, it’s short schrift to what is, in my opinion, a great album. You can dislike an album, but don’t base your opinion on your own predisposition. If you boil down the the piece and take out all the insults, there’s really no content left. People read reviews, perhaps for entertainment, but mostly so they can find out whether or not to invest their time and money in something. Now, after spending a combined 14 hours on transatlantic flights and being forced to watch heavily-edited, family-friendly movies I can understand the desire to carpet bomb certain pieces of work. But let’s be honest, This Modern Glitch is not the musical equivalent of Big Mommas: Like Father, Like Son. I can also understand prejudice, I think it’s unlikely that that Jason Friedberg and Aaron Seltzer will ever produce anything worth watching, but then again we’re not talking about the musical stylings of David Hasselhoff, either. My point is, they deserve a decent review, not one that is simpls dismissive. But the language tops the tone, what with the combination of two ower-used clichés (“guilty pleasure du jour”) and an obscure analogy, “nightwatchmen at the indie landfill.” What the fuck does that mean? Do you mean they applied for a shitty position in an already crappy organization – I can’t imagine a dump with more garbage than NME, imagine working there.
In douchebaggy scene-talk one might write: Nicolson’s tour de force is a puke-inducing, mud-slinging crapfest which will certainly one day feature in his published magnum opus of assorted reviews and tweets, soon to be found in the discount bin at your local book store.