[QUOTE=Octave;13743557]Go hom3 you guys, I hav3 manag3d to d3vis3 a way to r3pr3s3nt 3's without actually typing th3m, which was n3v3r stat3d as a rul3. As you can s33, I am a mast3r at scrounging out loophol3s, and that's why I am th3 top dog. Cl3arly it is tim3 for 3v3ryon3 to throw in th3 tow3l; I hav3 attain3d utt3r and total victory. I do not 3v3n know why I am still constructing this m3ssage of 3pic proportions. Wh3n I piss, is it suppos3d to burn? Good, b3caus3 it do3s not. Wish you would st3p back from that l3dge my fri3nd. I would und3rstaaaaaa333aaa33and. Salutations my buddi3s, I hope I s33 you in this life, or th3 n3xt one.[/QUOTE]
aw3som3.
I wish, I wish, I was a fish.
This place of discussion is stupid
In befo- FUCK
Looking at this paragraph with confusion? I'll aid you slightly. Is any odd gap, lacuna or omission obvious to you? Got it now? No?
That's right - this is a lipogram - a book, paragraph or similar thing in writing that lacks a symbol, particularly (but not always) that symbol fifth in rank out of our 26 script-signs (found amidst 'd' and 'f'), which stands for a sound such as that in 'kiwi'. I won't bring it up right now, to avoid spoiling it. I could play with lipograms morning, noon and night. So it is with joy that I submit to you this location – truly, a loquacious location – for lipogram fanatics to join as a unit to glorify this form of wordplay.
As far as I know, this location has a distinct honour: it contains such an abundant quantity of words without using this taboo glyph that no WWW location can outmatch it. As of right now, it contains 1500 words without any hint of that symbol. Naturally, many long lipograms abound in print, including books, rhyming stanzas, and similar works of fiction. Most notably, La Disparition (A Void) by a famous author of a writing group known as Oulipo, stands out as a paragon of lipogrammaticity. I cannot aim to surpass it, but as a fan, I can look upon it with admiration.
Writing lipograms is, as you might think, a difficult task. In my lingo, 2/3 of all words contain that symbol which I am now avoiding, including many common pronouns and similar words commonly found in writing. Without using abbrvs., slang and odd jargon, which most purists scorn as cop-outs, it's darn tough to impart information in a stylistically satisfying way. Stripping paragraphs of particular symbols has a way of making looking at lipograms jarring. No doubt about it, a lipogram is a particularly arduous form of wordplay.
Having said this, acquiring a knack for lipogram composition isn't that hard, and may assist you in your non-lipogrammatic writing. Not to say that I'm without aid in this activity; my dictionary is always handy, as is a book with synonyms for words. And, notwithstanding any drawbacks flowing from passing many an hour looking for unusual ways to say ordinary things, it might aid your socialization skills. Chicks truly dig lipogrammatists, or so my old lady says.
Sadly, a handful of critics find lipograms ridiculous, ugly or without worth (as fiction or as wordplay). To such sorry saps, I say only that in constraining your thoughts and writing in a particular way aids in promoting branching paths of thought, thus amplifying vocabulary and instilling adroit linguistic skills among both young and old. By putting into praxis ways of thinking that wouldn't occur normally, lipograms call for authors to look at writing as an activity in ways that, frankly, wouldn't occur to such niggling adjudicators of linguistic conduct.
Withholding a symbol found in so many words has drastic symptoms that disallow many topics of discussion. (From this point on, I'll stick to talking about that sign I'm skipping right now). Using math is almost an impossibility; you can only maintain 15 of all non-digital words for cardinal quantity up to 100, and hardly any at all past that point, though using digits is a good way out. You can go north or south, but talking about circumnavigating our world latitudinally is an impossibility. How can I possibly talk about various kinds of malt liquor, or parts of my body, without it? To top it all off, as an Anglo, strict prohibitions apply to naming of my own form of linguistic communication. I ought to thank my lucky stars that I'm not writing in lipogrammatic français, though, which holds on to only an octal portion of its original vocabulary.
But all is not lost. Surprisingly, profanity is mostly intact. As a practicing lipogrammatist, you'll find you want many such words, for it is a task so awkward as to call for cussing and cursing on a normal basis. A world map is truly a blissful oasis; my country (Canada) is totally satisfactory, as with most toponyms for nations (111 out of 186, by my count); with a bit of work, USA, UK, and so on, can still show up, and with twin island nations Trinidad and Tobago and Antigua and Barbuda (both with 17 glyphs) topping my list for prolongation. Musicians (particularly classical artists), astonishingly, hold firm as topics of discussion, with Bach, Bartok, Brahms, Chopin, Dvorak, Haydn, Holst, Liszt, Mozart, Orff, Puccini, Rachmaninov, Rossini, Scarlatti, Schumann, Strauss, Stravinsky, Tchaikovsky and Vivaldi void of my lost non-consonant.
An additional branch of family Lipogrammatica consists of univocalics. This form of wordplay is akin to a lipogram, but contains a solitary sign that's not a consonant. To wit, a univocalic might omit 'a', 'i', 'o', and 'u' (but what about 'y'?). A univocalic has a sonorant quality that a lipogram lacks, so you must look at a lipogram, but contrarily, a univocalic is both auditory and visual, and has a strong sound if said aloud. Univocalic writing is hard to pull off, but if it's good, its payoff is gigantic.
People as a rule will not stop to realize what a task such an attempt actually is. As I wrote along, in long-hand at first, a whole army of little E's gathered around my desk, all eagerly expecting to be called upon. But gradually as they saw me writing on and on, without even noticing them, they grew uneasy; and, with excited whisperings amongst themselves, began hopping up and riding on my pen, looking down constantly for a chance to drop off into some word; for all the world like seabirds perched, watching for a passing fish! But when they saw that I had covered 138 pages of typewriter size paper, they slid onto the floor, walking sadly away, arm in arm; but shouting back: "You certainly must have a hodge-podge of a yarn there without *us*! Why, man! We are in every story ever written *hundreds of thousands of times! This is the first time we ever were shut out!...
Press e.
Doing finito so far.
It isn't as hard as you think, just stay away from words with [B]E[/B] in it,
[editline]05:57PM[/editline]
[b]eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
[/b]
Hai Gaiz
[editline]06:07PM[/editline]
>:3
Emm, I don'y know what to say Fast Threads are stupid, look not a single E.
Omg
Now what am I to do? I can't start this shit so quickly in this morning hour. My brain hurts from so many things going on in my flat. Folks living by this flat can suck a fat cock for all that crappy rap music i put up with nightly. :/
Saying it isn't funny. Stop trying.
Gigi D'agostino was famous for two vids, stuck on MTV for weeks, which that great guy did.
[editline]09:55PM[/editline]
[QUOTE=RedStar;19275771]Looking at this paragraph with confusion? I'll aid you slightly. Is any odd gap, lacuna or omission obvious to you? Got it now? No?
That's right - this is a lipogram - a book, paragraph or similar thing in writing that lacks a symbol, particularly (but not always) that symbol fifth in rank out of our 26 script-signs (found amidst 'd' and 'f'), which stands for a sound such as that in 'kiwi'. I won't bring it up right now, to avoid spoiling it. I could play with lipograms morning, noon and night. So it is with joy that I submit to you this location – truly, a loquacious location – for lipogram fanatics to join as a unit to glorify this form of wordplay.
As far as I know, this location has a distinct honour: it contains such an abundant quantity of words without using this taboo glyph that no WWW location can outmatch it. As of right now, it contains 1500 words without any hint of that symbol. Naturally, many long lipograms abound in print, including books, rhyming stanzas, and similar works of fiction. Most notably, La Disparition (A Void) by a famous author of a writing group known as Oulipo, stands out as a paragon of lipogrammaticity. I cannot aim to surpass it, but as a fan, I can look upon it with admiration.
Writing lipograms is, as you might think, a difficult task. In my lingo, 2/3 of all words contain that symbol which I am now avoiding, including many common pronouns and similar words commonly found in writing. Without using abbrvs., slang and odd jargon, which most purists scorn as cop-outs, it's darn tough to impart information in a stylistically satisfying way. Stripping paragraphs of particular symbols has a way of making looking at lipograms jarring. No doubt about it, a lipogram is a particularly arduous form of wordplay.
Having said this, acquiring a knack for lipogram composition isn't that hard, and may assist you in your non-lipogrammatic writing. Not to say that I'm without aid in this activity; my dictionary is always handy, as is a book with synonyms for words. And, notwithstanding any drawbacks flowing from passing many an hour looking for unusual ways to say ordinary things, it might aid your socialization skills. Chicks truly dig lipogrammatists, or so my old lady says.
Sadly, a handful of critics find lipograms ridiculous, ugly or without worth (as fiction or as wordplay). To such sorry saps, I say only that in constraining your thoughts and writing in a particular way aids in promoting branching paths of thought, thus amplifying vocabulary and instilling adroit linguistic skills among both young and old. By putting into praxis ways of thinking that wouldn't occur normally, lipograms call for authors to look at writing as an activity in ways that, frankly, wouldn't occur to such niggling adjudicators of linguistic conduct.
Withholding a symbol found in so many words has drastic symptoms that disallow many topics of discussion. (From this point on, I'll stick to talking about that sign I'm skipping right now). Using math is almost an impossibility; you can only maintain 15 of all non-digital words for cardinal quantity up to 100, and hardly any at all past that point, though using digits is a good way out. You can go north or south, but talking about circumnavigating our world latitudinally is an impossibility. How can I possibly talk about various kinds of malt liquor, or parts of my body, without it? To top it all off, as an Anglo, strict prohibitions apply to naming of my own form of linguistic communication. I ought to thank my lucky stars that I'm not writing in lipogrammatic français, though, which holds on to only an octal portion of its original vocabulary.
But all is not lost. Surprisingly, profanity is mostly intact. As a practicing lipogrammatist, you'll find you want many such words, for it is a task so awkward as to call for cussing and cursing on a normal basis. A world map is truly a blissful oasis; my country (Canada) is totally satisfactory, as with most toponyms for nations (111 out of 186, by my count); with a bit of work, USA, UK, and so on, can still show up, and with twin island nations Trinidad and Tobago and Antigua and Barbuda (both with 17 glyphs) topping my list for prolongation. Musicians (particularly classical artists), astonishingly, hold firm as topics of discussion, with Bach, Bartok, Brahms, Chopin, Dvorak, Haydn, Holst, Liszt, Mozart, Orff, Puccini, Rachmaninov, Rossini, Scarlatti, Schumann, Strauss, Stravinsky, Tchaikovsky and Vivaldi void of my lost non-consonant.
An additional branch of family Lipogrammatica consists of univocalics. This form of wordplay is akin to a lipogram, but contains a solitary sign that's not a consonant. To wit, a univocalic might omit 'a', 'i', 'o', and 'u' (but what about 'y'?). A univocalic has a sonorant quality that a lipogram lacks, so you must look at a lipogram, but contrarily, a univocalic is both auditory and visual, and has a strong sound if said aloud. Univocalic writing is hard to pull off, but if it's good, its payoff is gigantic.[/QUOTE]
Believe it or not, there is not a single E in this paragraph.
[code]std::cout << "wish for no writEablE placE lEttEr";[/code]
Thank you.
Lol i didnt us3d th3 l3tt3r 3 on my answ3r
Ok
E
Ok, I won't.
My keyboard doesn't have the letter "E", only E
Damn you, OP.
Oh, wait. Haha.
(This is not hard.)
Should my post act utilizing only a solitarty group of words with a solitary punctuation mark, or may it contain many groups of words with a solitary punctuation mark?
(That is 30 words.)
purple omlats and ham
If Youth, throughout all history, had had a champion to stand up for it; to show a doubting world that a child can think; and, possibly, do it practically, you wouldn't constantly run across folks today who claim that "a child don't know anything." A child's brain starts functioning at birth; and has, amongst its many infant convolutions, thousands of dormant atoms, into which God has put a mystic possibility for noticing an adult's act, and figuring out its purport.
Up to about its primary school days a child thinks, naturally, only of play. But many a form of play contains disciplinary factor. "You can't do this," or "that puts out out," shows a child that it must think, practically, or fail. Now, if, throughout childhood, a brain has no opposition, it is plain that it will attain a position of "status quo," as with our ordinary animals. Man knows not why a cow, dog, or lion was not born with a brain on a par with ours; why such animals cannot add, subtract, or obtain from books and schooling, that paramount position which Man Holds today.
But a human brain is not in that class. Constantly throbbing and pulsating, it rapidly forms opinions; attaining an ability of its own; a fact which is startlingly shown by an occasional child "prodigy" in music or school work. And as, with our dumb animals, a child's inability convincingly to impart its thoughts to us, should not class it as ignorant.
Upon this basis I am going to show you how a bunch of bright young folks did find a champion; a man with boys and girls of his own; a man of so dominating and happy individuality that Youth is drawn to him as is a fly to a sugar bowl. It is a story about a small town. It is not a gossipy yarn; nor is it a dry, monotonous account, full of such customary "fill-ins" as "romantic moonlight casting murky shadows down a long, winding country road." Nor will it say anything about tinklings lulling distant folds; robins carolling at twilight, nor any "warm glow of lamplight" from a cabin window. No. It is an account of up-and-doing activity; a vivid portrayal of Youth as it is today; and a practical discarding of that worn-out notion that "a child don't know anything."
Now, any author, from history's dawn, always had that most important aid to writing:—an ability to call upon any word in his dictionary in building up his story. That is, our strict laws as to word construction did not block his path. But in my story that mighty obstruction will constantly stand in my path; for many an important, common word I cannot adopt, owing to its orthography.
I shall act as a sort of historian for this small town; associating with its inhabitants, and striving to acquaint you with its youths, in such a way that you can look, knowingly, upon any child, rich or poor; forward or "backward;" your won, or John Smith's, in your community. You will find many young minds aspiring to know how, and WHY such a thing is so. And if a child shows curiosity in that way, how ridiculous it is for to snap out:—
"Oh! Don't ask about things too old for you!"
Such a jolt to a young child's mind, craving instruction, is apt so to dull its avidity, as to hold it back in its school work. Try to look upon a child as a small, soft young body and a rapidly growing, constantly inquiring brain. It must grow to maturity slowly. Forcing a child through school by constant night study during hours in which it should run and play, can bring on insomnia; handicapping both brain and body.
Now this small town in our story had grown in just that way:—slowly; in fact, much too slowly to stand on a par with many a thousand of its kind in this big, vigorous nation of ours. It was simply...
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