Have you always loved poetry?

[EroticOrogeny]

What regifting thing?

From a little while back in this thread - your question:

Don't know if I am allowed to put this on here but I sure would like to know how it's done!
How does this work??!!

and my response:

Yes, basically. The answer is always a multiple of 9:

a = 10*n + m - n - m,

where n and m are integers between 0 and 9 (i.e., a digit).
The first page always seems to start with 25 - 2 - 5 = 18,
so there n = 2 and m = 5.

We can continue our algebraic manipulations:

a = 10*n -n = 9*n

Each multiple of 9 box is filled in with the same item, the other boxes don't matter. The only thing I don't know is how the boxes are filled for each cycle - is it a random number or a simple loop over names.

Similar to the problem of squaring a number ending in 5,
for example,
35 * 35 = ?
The shortcut gives 3*4 = 12, and add a 25 on the end:
35 * 35 = 1225
This holds for all positive integers, thus
for 55 * 55
we have 5*6=30, and the answer is 3025.
This was a little problem posed in Martin Gardner's Mathematical Games in Scientific American a long time ago.

For extra credit, find the rule for cases where the sum of the final digits is 10
(e.g., 33*37) and show that this is true.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

Ooops yes that was very kind of you to explain even though it rattled the cogs in my brain somewhat! I passed it on to the person who sent me the original email by the way and got a very rude answer back ! Tut tut some of my friends have no manners lol

 

[sassynyc]

Language is my first love. In all it's forms, I've always adored it. As a kid, I read anything I could get my hands on. I developed a dark facination with Poe in the third grade. And so, it began. Music is my other great love. I can't possibly choose between the two, which I guess, makes me artistically polyamorous. The beautiful thing about poetry is, it's the music of language. Rhythmic expression that can be composed by anyone, whether or not you can actually read or write music.

 

[sassynyc]

OMG....math!!!!
*runs for the hills*

From a little while back in this thread - your question:


and my response:


Similar to the problem of squaring a number ending in 5,
for example,
35 * 35 = ?
The shortcut gives 3*4 = 12, and add a 25 on the end:
35 * 35 = 1225
This holds for all positive integers, thus
for 55 * 55
we have 5*6=30, and the answer is 3025.
This was a little problem posed in Martin Gardner's Mathematical Games in Scientific American a long time ago.

For extra credit, find the rule for cases where the sum of the final digits is 10
(e.g., 33*37) and show that this is true.

 

[EroticOrogeny]

OMG....math!!!!
*runs for the hills*

We can use math to better understand those hills, or running, for that matter.

 

[The_Fool]

I watched Tony Bourdain's No Reservations last night (I love him; he's like a Lou Reedish/gastronome/journalist all rolled into one cynical New Yorker). Anyway he was in Montana and interviewed the wonderful writer Jim Harrison and this painter (whose name I forget). But essentially what they both said was that they didn't so much choose their life--artists in Montana where, as Harrison said, "everyone is a rancher and they ask what do you do and you say "I write stories" or "I draw pictures." Lol. But they do it because they need to--to write, to paint, to make art. And I totally get that. I can't remember a time when I didn't feel like I needed to write stuff. And it also helps me understand writers who stop for a while (or forever) and explain that "I didn't need to anymore." So it's not about liking or loving poetry, though I do, but that I need to write. If I don't I think I implode or spontaneously combust or something.

In that same show, the painter described poetry as that which cannot be translated. I can almost grasp that as an adequate definition. The best I have heard so far. But even that suffers fraying at the edges since every ready translates the poetry differently. There is no poetry. There may be poems, but there is no poetry. And she is the bitch from hell that makes me angry until she drags her fingernail down my zipper.

 

[Angeline]

In that same show, the painter described poetry as that which cannot be translated. I can almost grasp that as an adequate definition. The best I have heard so far. But even that suffers fraying at the edges since every ready translates the poetry differently. There is no poetry. There may be poems, but there is no poetry. And she is the bitch from hell that makes me angry until she drags her fingernail down my zipper.

You could be quoting from my story, you perv.

 

[sassynyc]

We can use math to better understand those hills, or running, for that matter.

have mercy on the mumerically challenged.

 

[The_Fool]

You could be quoting from my story, you perv.

I would say that you have no idea, but you probably do have some idea of how much of a perv I really am.

 

[Angeline]

I would say that you have no idea, but you probably do have some idea of how much of a perv I really am.

Yup. I been knowin you a while.

 

[vrosej10]

Language is my first love. In all it's forms, I've always adored it. As a kid, I read anything I could get my hands on. I developed a dark facination with Poe in the third grade. And so, it began. Music is my other great love. I can't possibly choose between the two, which I guess, makes me artistically polyamorous. The beautiful thing about poetry is, it's the music of language. Rhythmic expression that can be composed by anyone, whether or not you can actually read or write music.

I am mad about language too. As a child, I was what you would call linguistically gifted. I could speak in sentences at nine months old and have not shut up since. Writing is just a concrete form of talking!

 

[bogusagain]

I enjoyed poetry in English lessons but it was when I heard pop poets like Adrian Henri of the Liverpool Scene I started to think poetry can have smething to say about my world and not some rarified world poetry up till then seemed to inhabit.

Batpoem by The Liverpool Scene

Love Is

We'll All Be Spacemen Before We Die

They also made me realise poetry could be performed as opposed to just read. OK, it's not the greatest poetry ever but at the time it was for awhile.


This is a poem I loved when I was young May I Die A Young Man's Death by Roger McGough.

 

[CharleyH]

I've never been into metre or poetic grammar, but I have written poetry since I was young. In a poetry exercise in grade 10 the teacher wrote on my paper that I 'should quote the author'. She failed me, thinking I had plagiarized. I did not and challenged her to prove it, with my parents at hand. It was an original production and eventually I got an A+ and haven't written that good of poetry since then, but that's me... once I accomplish what I set out to do, it's time to move on for me. I love and admire many poets on Lit simply because unlike me they strive to do best. Keep it coming.

 

[Safe_Bet]

I've never been into metre or poetic grammar, but I have written poetry since I was young. In a poetry exercise in grade 10 the teacher wrote on my paper that I 'should quote the author'. She failed me, thinking I had plagiarized. I did not and challenged her to prove it, with my parents at hand. It was an original production and eventually I got an A+ and haven't written that good of poetry since then, but that's me... once I accomplish what I set out to do, it's time to move on for me. I love and admire many poets on Lit simply because unlike me they strive to do best. Keep it coming.

You made me think of the first poem I ever remember writing. I was in either second or third grade...

OWLS

I like owls.
Big starry eyes and beaks
Ears that come to peaks
Brown ones or gray ones or the rest
I can't say whoooo I like the best
I just like owls.

*Snerk* My meter hasn't changed much, has it?




ETA: Hi Fool, you stud muffin, you!

 

[hmmnmm]

This'll probably go over like Cartman yelling Fuck Jesus at Christfest.
But not really. Never really appreciated poetry until recent times. I was among those who helped keep poets impoverished. When blessed with moments or hours of personal liberty, I can't recall ever seeking out poetry, whether to read or write. My preferences were more along the lines of Mad and then National Lampoon... but down through the years I was nonetheless often accused of inflicting random acts of poetry upon the society I would happen to be in, which I always felt was a grossly false accusation to which I adamantly claimed innocence and if I had not the means or ability to erect adequate defense (biased and hostile juries) I always managed to escape being so recognizably tagged. It has only been these last couple years, being here, that I've begun to accept the lot fate has apparently so cruelly decided to deem as mine. So it's more of a reluctant resignation. I still haven't reached the point that I can openly admit full acceptance of this fate. This is the only venue I openly do it, for which allowance I am indeed grateful.