TKdvYhd3

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2#
3# Entertaining algorithmically-generated text from GROVER
4# trained as GPT-2 "1.5B". I used Google Colab notebook
5# released by project team to create the following text samples
6# Notebook is here: https://t.co/sgO6Wed5a6?amp=1
7# Generated text after <|endoftext|> markers was removed
8# (generally unrelated news-genre text noise)
9#
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11
12Seed text:
13Wall of flowers between myself and dinner guests
14Chain and stanchion between myself and all the rest
15
16Hot air between myself and any room
17Flaming sword between myself and the whole wide world
18
19
20Sample, 1  of  10
21Wall of flowers between myself and dinner guests
22Chain and stanchion between myself and all the rest
23
24Hot air between myself and any room
25Flaming sword between myself and the whole wide world
26
27It's a Chainring, it's a Stanchion, it's a (Poi)d-bell.
28
29'Chainring, stanchion, the whole wide world,' I murmured.
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31An unconditional 'chainring, stanchion, the whole wide world,' was heard in an enormous interior acoustic chimney.
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33The simple sight of the chainring by the sea to which he clung stirred his spirits, just as a door closes against intruders, and as a carved inscription on a face implies the existence of a will within.
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35That most of her paper collated writing with which you do not pay much attention to will not hold out very long, if you intend to be a careful and enduring reader.
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37It is against light chainings, such as wrought iron, that the obsidian is of greatest value, and against only great chains themselves, such as iron chains , emerald chains , bat'ne chauri, pythian chains, terra cotta chains, which are secured to the rocky extremity of the rock.
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39But had been a wood-wallet chain in the first place; it was costly—that, I am confident, is not to be imputed to all chainrings with screws or pinsels at the wrist—it was a cord or yoke, a toggle of hard metal, a whip or a lash of leather, shaped into a cheap form, something like a chainring .
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41The present method is easy to make (for the strips are merely connections to the hollow lengths, to make a coil), and the checks consist of rubbers, linen cloth, and chainring natures to which iron has been accoutred.
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43History often records that the following year brought an abrupt change to the nation's more established railroads, for it was in this year that the new railroad company of the Interior, Mr.
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45I had no choice.<|endoftext|>Oh, to be an Aussie in Los Angeles, circa 2012.
46
47When you're not swanning around in swim trunks, shopping with a human baseball bat or finessing out an Aussie accent in the hope that an old mate with a surfboard can recommend a place for you to surf, you're probably tagging along with a Los Angeles family planning to spend the summer tramping around the city and puzzling over the act of dining with a friend sitting on some jacked couch somewhere, while drinking from a vintage Pepsi bottle.
48
49On the other side of things, the parents seem to be doing a great job of raising their kids as Aussies, conducting your own version of Real Housewives all the while observing us in our peculiar way, be it with gossipy remarks about the kids' friendships or tips on home decorating to show off to their guests as if they were adopting one of those kids.
50
51Anyway, when we arrived, they were welcoming us like royalty and showcasing their knowledge of local establishments while introducing us to their tips, all while adorning themselves with bizarre Aussie taxidermy and awesome fashion, such as an oversized orange plastic belt, khaki shorts, and a blazer that looked like the inside of a stick of butter melting in the sun. They seemed to know all about every restaurant in L.A., and even where some of them would like to eat. And while all that is great to know, really, we need to eat.
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53
54Sample, 2  of  10
55Wall of flowers between myself and dinner guests
56Chain and stanchion between myself and all the rest
57
58Hot air between myself and any room
59Flaming sword between myself and the whole wide world
60
61A “bring me one to eat” basket, with enough books and candy for the whole family, and
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63A coat of thick, unfriendly paint from my local arts & crafts store. All over. For two people who aren’t leaving until I think it’s the absolute right time.
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65I get to work right after people’s take-home. You might think people get tired from that kind of work, but no. By nine, people have a table. By the middle of the evening, they’ve got a nice little desk. People get to change office styles a little.
66
67Most office coworkers are meant to be friends, but very few have the patience. A lot of people even buy each other drinks. But the difference is that when you leave, there’s coffee for the whole office. You take it from a folksy barista. There’s no having a huge fight over how you got it, or spilling coffee over the barista after “just one.”
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69When I wake up at three A.M., there’s always something that needs written. Everyone has to write something, including me. I don’t need the money, I don’t need the essay process, I don’t need to cram some drywall into my workshop, because I like my space and I like people. It’s just kind of natural.
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71
72Sample, 3  of  10
73Wall of flowers between myself and dinner guests
74Chain and stanchion between myself and all the rest
75
76Hot air between myself and any room
77Flaming sword between myself and the whole wide world...
78
79
80
81I wake up to a dream. I try to remember my dreams, but if I remember anything, it would be my thoughts. A dream that I am not alone, that is not of my own dreaming thoughts, that is not only a dream I dreamed, but also an adventure I'm truly embarking on tonight. As I look around the crowded apartment, I see I'm quite alone. A simple motel elevator in the hotel with nothing but a lonely, cold tree for company. As the elevator falls, it lifts up a floor. I don't want to see the room anymore, so I am looking for an exit point. I then find it: a small door with one person standing out the other side. He seems like a child, and I imagine the world he's living in is one created by joy as much as pain. I think about this and if, in fact, there really is hope for joy in the world today. I suppose I'd probably see the world differently if I was the child in this story. However, this isn't really what I want to talk about anyway. After a moment's observation, I realize that while my fears are correct, these two people have nothing to fear. That's when I start dreaming.
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83
84Sample, 4  of  10
85Wall of flowers between myself and dinner guests
86Chain and stanchion between myself and all the rest
87
88Hot air between myself and any room
89Flaming sword between myself and the whole wide world.
90
91While people eat their meals
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93Ominous tale between me and the world
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95Haunting story between me and the whole wide world
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97Pushing against me as I kiss my dinner.
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99I stood on the outside of the crowd, cold from the cold air, from the lack of food. No matter the food, however, it would not bring joy to me. I stood on the outside, knowing that the emotions I had had in the past few hours would inevitably transfer to the food, but I did not want to become angry or afraid, just numb, incapable of experiencing any pleasure without eliciting the whole wide world's immediate, sordid disgust and my own useless anxiety.
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101
102Sample, 5  of  10
103Wall of flowers between myself and dinner guests
104Chain and stanchion between myself and all the rest
105
106Hot air between myself and any room
107Flaming sword between myself and the whole wide world
108
109That sort of thing happened a lot back then. Today you get a whole variety of activities to do. Some of the games you play are admittedly simple (with hints), but they keep the reader engrossed and reaching for the next page (which often serves as a demo of that day’s activities). Notable mention has to go to a game called “Bit Blitz,” where you do a triple-jump-spray thing. If that doesn’t keep you interested in reading, I don’t know what will.
110
111
112
113The Chronicles of Amber: Age of Rebellion
114
115Novella
116
117Plot
118
119Disclaimer: I’ve never actually read this whole book and I am rather lazy about buying books. I’m not giving that information up so I can include it as simply a spoiler. For all I know this may still be a really good book. If it is, I’m tempted to just go purchase the entire series.
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121The Chronicles of Amber: Age of Rebellion is a giant book by Forgotten Realms standards. It is a war between the Realms and Ferelden, where the Realms are in the midst of a civil war while Ferelden is keeping its head down and living its own life.
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123I had a difficult time putting this one away. I sat through about half of it, just getting burned out and ready to get into more mainstream books. I don’t want to read a book like that for work. I’m just lazy. Anyway, this book is not my cup of tea. I just don’t find the fantasy stuff (in this case, it’s really world-building and telling a story within a setting) that compelling.
124
125The story is still pretty good though, and I still had a lot of fun reading it. I’d say the book probably could have used a little extra character development or atmosphere. But overall, it is a decent book and I will read it again if I find it not overly long.
126
127The Princes of Amber
128
129Novella
130
131Plot
132
133Summary
134
135The Prince of Amber is an old man who has lived alone for thousands of years. He was once one of the Great Princes of Amber, but now he is too old and tired to care and is doomed to die in the years to come.
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137The Prince has a secret: he has always been a wizard. He grew tired of living forever and didn’t care enough to pass on his magic. So he raised his young daughter to be a queen, and from her came new and slightly different princes who would succeed him. These princes are all trying to take over from him so he won’t be around to help them.
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139The Prince has always loved his daughter; she’s his pride and joy. But he knows that she will be a challenge to navigate through the challenges that come up as she grows older. And he is also aware that not all the princes want to be his daughter and may attack him when they find out about his secret. All of that is ancient history, however, and the Prince is looking forward to the day when his daughter is old enough to rule Amber herself.
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141This was by far the most fun book I read. I’m honestly surprised by how much I enjoyed it because at first it sounded a little dry and mediocre. But after the fist chapter, I was hooked, and it was hard to get away from. The plot is a little confusing (as is the plot for a lot of books) but the story is pretty interesting and focuses mostly on characters rather than a broader world.
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143After about halfway through I started paying more attention to the characters and the characters started to grow on me, and by the time I got to the end it had really become my favorite story of the week. It also ends with an interesting twist I didn’t see coming.
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145There are not a lot of reread opportunities for me in my job, but if this were actually the last time I read the book I would gladly go back for another read, preferably a few chapters before the cliffhanger I spotted and then pushed away.
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147This is a book that I’m certain would be one of the most popular books of the week if it were on my to-read list, and I’m sure others will agree. If this were in my job it would be for re-read purposes because it would probably be the most ridiculously long book in all the writers’ reference list. But then again, I’m not in the book industry so it doesn’t really matter anymore.
148
149This was an enjoyable read, but
150Sample, 6  of  10
151Wall of flowers between myself and dinner guests
152Chain and stanchion between myself and all the rest
153
154Hot air between myself and any room
155Flaming sword between myself and the whole wide world
156
157
158
159Your humble servant Aiwaz Ahmad
160
161Impressive, isn't it? I try to think positive thoughts, and then it happens. No matter what you might expect from me, it doesn't happen often, but when it does, it leaves me feeling pretty shattered.The painting itself seems smooth and round, almost a good idea to me when trying to understand just how someone can be so, well, stunning as to be considered a masterpiece. I don't know what the intention of the artist was, but the colours and movements used do not feel in sync with the rest of the piece. The birds seem almost at the same end of the frame as their bird in the painting. I have no idea, but I don't think this detail would come from the artist, who seems to be going for less decorative strokes.Perhaps this painting was painted by a low-level member, and this is just a clever way of showing off?No, no, no, that was all a mistake and a lie. Oh my dearest sweet puppet puppet. This is true.I can't remember who it was that told me the story, but there's a point at which either the pieces start falling into place, or you just kind of take in everything at once, smile, not blink. And yes, I am smiling at my friend Morad.Painted on yellow watercolour paper, starting at 13:40 - 18:23 and ending at 21:38 - 23:42
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163
164Sample, 7  of  10
165Wall of flowers between myself and dinner guests
166Chain and stanchion between myself and all the rest
167
168Hot air between myself and any room
169Flaming sword between myself and the whole wide world
170
171Extremities between me and my family
172
173Name: Ivan Smirnov
174
175Age: 28
176
177Location: United States
178
179Occupation: Media Director (Audio) and composer
180
181Weapon(s): Dual wield. Sword and Axe
182
183Hometown: Kiev, Ukraine
184
185Links: LinkedIn, Soundcloud, Youtube, Reddit
186
187Youtube: You can download the files here;
188
189I am a composer and media director by day. My work mainly entails creating, programming, and managing my radio station. Most of the work I do is in R&B or hip-hop. My musician side involves orchestral, electronic, and experimental instruments.
190
191Possibly the most visible output of this work has been my entrance into the hip-hop scene. It was a challenge I set out to work upon but one I found more than prepared for. I think I've been putting music into a lot of different peoples' ears, and seeing how listeners react to the results has been a huge part of my development as a composer and a human being.
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193
194
195If you're interested in learning more about how I approach music, feel free to visit my website to check out some music. If you like what you hear and want to keep updated, feel free to follow me on social media; I'll be doing stuff like 1/7ac. There will be new music every so often, though.
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198Sample, 8  of  10
199Wall of flowers between myself and dinner guests
200Chain and stanchion between myself and all the rest
201
202Hot air between myself and any room
203Flaming sword between myself and the whole wide world
204
205Key and phone between me and millions of people
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207Furry person between me and everybody else
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209Rider between me and somewhere or somewhere else.
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211Cases, bomb suits, parties. The key, the phone, the person. The ride. Sunset Room.
212
213See. It was this brown building with kind of a high ceiling. Across the moat I could make out stone. It was big. Vast.
214
215"B-b-b-bike mess, man," I said, "It's like something out of Road Warrior!"
216
217He nodded.
218
219That's when it hit me. I'd lost. I'd sort of chosen to lose. The situation I'd chosen wasn't even real, was it? I'd ceded the point, I'd acknowledged defeat.
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221I'd stopped believing in the end. The end that was always coming, the end that would bury me. I'd just been waiting for it, over and over, the air got heavier and then harder. But it wasn't coming.
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223But nothing had.
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225Meanwhile.
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227I had to find some sort of backup plan. Since, of course, the end never came. Something had to. Something that would buy me some time.
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229He'd slipped the key into my left shoe. With his hand I had seized it, given it to him. Holding it tightly, I threaded it through my pocket. I never liked to lose, so I always had a way to keep a thing or two.
230
231"No," I lied, "I didn't lose, it was someone else. It was the right thing to do."
232
233That's when I found it.
234
235At the foot of the steps I found a small path. I wasn't sure what kind of climb it could be, but I'd seen something like it at the other end of this building. By some fluke, this was also where my pedals and handlebars came in. The tracks I was touching kept going into the wall, further up the stairs. I'd lost. I'd thought that if I took the track up the stairs I'd found an end, or a place to set down. I'd thought that there would be a trail that I could follow, that I wouldn't have to use the motor.
236
237It was now I was mad.
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239Below, I could make out dark shapes. Like pools of, I don't know, darkness. They didn't look like houses, they didn't look like trees. They looked more like — that's the word — like someone's nightmares. The scurrying shapes, eyes as big as the doors, staring at me, looming over me. I'd been afraid to wake him. But I hadn't. And I didn't know how I could escape. So I was going to have to die. How to do it, I didn't know.
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241I tucked the track into my coat pocket.
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243But something in me had to do this. I had to do the things the end told me to do. To me, this had to be the end. So I'd grabbed the handlebars and climbed up the stairs. I hadn't seen a way out of there. Not at first. I just kept riding. And the thing on the tracks — I never knew if it was my motor or if I was living in a nightmare, but, yeah, I got to the end. I rode away.
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245And it was all by accident. But now, with no way out of this building, I've lost everything. And I don't know anything about anything.
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247It takes an effort to get to work, which I've recently discovered I like.
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249Everything I own is now of low value. I don't even know what I could buy if I got all of this. Everything I was planning to do with the money, I won't be able to do any of that with. And I feel so stupid. I have no clue how to fix this. How to come up with another plan.
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251But I have this bike. The bike that I lived on. And, if I just keep riding, I should find a way to get out.
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253I can't keep riding past the place I used to live. I can't. I can't even get the bike out of my house.
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255But here it is. Its owners probably won't even bother to give it back to me. After all, I haven't left the bike.
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257So I'll get it. I'll get it back.
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259I won't give it up this time.
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261Always keep it alive.
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264Sample, 9  of  10
265Wall of flowers between myself and dinner guests
266Chain and stanchion between myself and all the rest
267
268Hot air between myself and any room
269Flaming sword between myself and the whole wide world, because I love the world
270
271Foxon: Then what about that Prawn Suit dude you chase around the mountain?
272
273Curly Bill: He’s a goner, Phineas. He was born with a bad case of acid at birth, and nature runs him blind.
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275Foxon: So that’s why he doesn’t have his backpack?
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277Curly Bill: Pawnee’s been waiting for a callback like this for 60 years.
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279Foxon: Backpacks as mementos?
280
281Curly Bill: Case-in-point: Forgotten Toolbox in the stables.
282
283Foxon: So then what does your scarf look like?
284
285Curly Bill: Unlike the rest of these togs, it’s not made of linen or silk. We need something more durable that will last the entirety of Bill the Pony’s workday. Something like a covered wagon with a barrel of dye and a dozen beehives in it. Oh, and cotton and a waistcoat, so they’ll last through the winter. Wear it to the occasional cookout or Red-Haired Day party with rainbow trout and big smiles on your faces, either day, and you’ll be just fine.
286
287…
288
289…
290
291Foxon: Well, you know, maybe you could go back to making ladders now. Because that dude in the Prawn Suit and those zombies?
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293Curly Bill: Isn’t that where we come in?
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295Foxon: Yeah.
296
297Curly Bill: That should also cover the high cost of your dinner.
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299Foxon: That’s… uhh… like my problem.
300
301Curly Bill: I said it will. But I wanted to also offer an alternative, a symbol of hope and salvation to the world. So. One of the world’s greatest roller-skating competitions.
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303Foxon: I bet you could get everyone there to split a burger. I bet you could get 10,000 people at the horse races and they’d split a salad with hummus. I bet you could beat the hockey world and win the wrestling world.
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305Curly Bill: Vroom vroom, Vroom. Vroom vroom.
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307Foxon: So?
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309Curly Bill: So. Put on your varsity jacket. Come up behind a cheerleader. Punch ’em in the face.
310
311…
312
313Foxon: And lasso the guy down.
314
315Curly Bill: “HOW YOU DOIN’, CHIEF?”
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317Foxon: I’m scared. I’m really scared. What if I don’t? I don’t want to punch her in the face. What if I hurt her? What if…
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319Curly Bill: There are bigger obstacles out there. Like the fact that doing whatever you do could result in electro-active chemistry. And then you’d spend the rest of your life forever muttering, “It was the spur of the moment. That’s what happens when someone and someone and someone all come down from the clouds and challenge the whole world to a game of flop-sweep and I got rammed through the pre-wrapping as I went rolling on the floor behind the plane.” And then tomorrow, those people in the barn have skipped a day’s labor of goats, and they’re sitting around eating steaks, and there will be no reason to blame anyone else for anything they do. Tomorrow, the only people watching are poor, hungry, helpless idiots, and if they fail to watch over us, well, there’s no one to blame but themselves.
320
321…
322
323Foxon: Can you tell me what I was doing that day?
324
325Curly Bill: When the curtain dropped. When a pony and a bear were wrestled to the ground, amid ear-splitting screams from the crowd. When they said, “Boy or pony, which do you want to see win?” and the pony pointed to the bear, and the bear roared, “I hope it’s the pony, mister.” And you were like, “Good. Put on the Prawn Suit and beat up the fans until everybody wants to see us play hockey.”
326
327…
328
329Foxon: What were you thinking that day?
330
331Curly Bill: Thinking.
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333Foxon: What were you thinking?
334
335Curly Bill: That, three. You’re all of a sudden
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337
338Sample, 10  of  10
339Wall of flowers between myself and dinner guests
340Chain and stanchion between myself and all the rest
341
342Hot air between myself and any room
343Flaming sword between myself and the whole wide world
344
345The unstoppable entity known as the flame
346
347Bicycle messenger between myself and any public park
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349Dragon between myself and paradise (with an extra belt of flammable origami paper)
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351Jesus Christ above me and below me, between me and any possible pastry mall / airport / restaurant / boardroom / megamansion / temple / beach / crab bucket / car wash / cat in a sunbather ... whatever it is that exists on this Earth.
352
353I don't get these kinds of feelings everyday. Living is a daily existential crisis and trouble being "productive" while managing my friends and emotions at work and taking care of my two sweet little girls. Most days I just wish that I weren't surrounded by people that I have an oddly intimate relationship with, because it's like you're trapped in the shipwreck of your best memories. This is why being online has helped me far more than not being online: I can look outside my own eyes and envelop myself in the universal dragon and feel the energy of the world around me.
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355It's great and annoying simultaneously. I can see every person I have ever shared secrets with or laughed with, each passing inch of the asphalt road that reminds me of how I only even saw these people once and never lived to tell the tale (that extra belt of paper to hold all my skills to the flame, remember?)I can feel the diffuse shame and the simultaneous passionate support of my loved ones; I can revel in the divine or I can dwell in my own shame, but everyone will remember the way I made an emotional commitment (about ten years ago) to send money to a family that I found myself rooting for in a time of desperate need. Everybody will be convinced that I saw the beauty of love and I was totally wrong to be greedy and selfish to have them all in this, the greatest country on Earth.I'm on the train to Winnie, pretending to tell the gentle rider that I'm really grateful for this instance that I'm allowed to be honest with myself, to be myself, to recognize that there is a bit of darkness to be reached within me and that human beings are nice.Then I cut the cord, I win the game of Sim City, I win the game of Godzilla vs. Captain Planet, I win it all, yeah, I do it all, with my partner, who does most of the legwork, and the electro heat lamps, and my dreams, and then I've finished my debate with myself about compassion, and I'm getting on with the life of a normal person, and this is much, much better than the constant convulsions of my old body.This is so much better than the dull, incessant frustration of dealing with normal, average, untalented people as part of the literal fourth pillar of the media industrial complex: addiction to TV.The internet gives me the power to effortlessly interface with the world through filters in a way that I simply could not have before, back in my former life. I can slowly yet energetically start to restore whatever skill, curiosity, wit, life experience or definition that I was lacking while dealing with a human being that wouldn't give me the chance to assert my character.Conversations with strangers after work?That's old hat. Have breakfast, have lunch, have dinner and don't buy anything that's advertised to you and don't buy anything that's related to the television or anything else that you see on TV, because of course this is what our society wants us to do.If they bother to ask for the toilet paper, say, "Fuck this, can I go to the bathroom?" because the simplicity of that was never reduced in the New Normal.If they ask for the paper, be the shiny, shiny pile you always see; if they really insist on being nice, reply with a bit of "lady's banter," that gentle sarcasm that was simply to keep the boys in line as the girls finally outgrew their capacity for adoration, the same adoration that tells them that they don't need more than two breasts, that this is a reasonable amount of hair for this woman of earth and that then a man can fill that bit of hair with more hair and "work her ass off" at that job.Reality: the distribution of that original love, the mystical universal nature of that love, the tenseness of that unconditional love that by the twinkle of an eye was nothing more than an infinitesimal drop in the ocean of one tiny person's chemical state of mind, so that every time they could tap into that we could expect them to do so by a word, a fraction of a second, an event.Reality: the unfolding of that love was actually a kind of magic, in a paradoxical sort of way