In a similar vein, there's DeLorean Ipsum, which I often use for fake text when mocking up UI: https://satoristudio.net/delorean-ipsum/
Not sure if my execrations have enough umph to propel a stainless steel-clothed automobile to 88mph.
An obvious typo, you might even say!
When correcting someone on a finer point, it’s only fair to subject yourself to the same even-handed criticism before posting.
(I am a descriptivist, not a prescriptivist when it comes to spelling and grammar, but I am a stickler for the rules when it’s time to follow them! It’s fair to assume that we didn’t know there was going to be a test, and I have made typos also. I just thought this was ironic. Carry on!)
Looks like somebody even made a cyberpunk style markov generator:
https://www.reddit.com/r/Cyberpunk/comments/6g4weu/i_made_a_...
This is the story of my life, and it's been turned upside down for a while, and I want to take a moment, sit there, and tell you how I became the leader of a town called Bel Air.
Born and raised in West Philadelphia, I spent most of my days in the playground. Taking it easy, being able to relax, being all calm, and throwing all B-balls outside of school.
When two men who were planning to do bad things, started causing a ruckus in my neighborhood, I got into a little fight and my mom got scared, and she said, "You're moving to Bel Air with your aunt and uncle."
I whistled for the car, and when it pulled up, the license plate said "new" and it had tickets in the mirror. If I could say anything, this car was rare, but I thought, "No, forget it, home to Bel Air."
I arrived at the house about seven or eight o'clock, and I called out to the driver, "Hey, house, smell it later." I looked around my kingdom, finally I was there, So I sat on my throne like the Fresh Prince of Bel Air.
I just tried asking GPT to generate some Gibsonesque filler text, I'll same you the slop reading the slop but I think it did a pretty good job.
What surprised me is that I can kind of guess which novels various words and ideas came from.
Staccato signals of constant information. A loose affiliation of millionaires and billionaires. Lasers in the jungle somewhere.
"The street pulsed with a neon hum, data streams threading through the air like ghost veins in a concrete jungle. Holographic hawkers flickered at the edges of vision, their pitches fragmented by the static of black-market neural rigs. She moved through the crowd, her optic implants slicing through the visual noise, parsing faces for tells of corporate loyalty or freelance desperation. Every step was a negotiation with the city's rhythm, a dance of survival where the wrong move could flatline you in a datastream dead-end.
In the shadow of a megacorp tower, its glass skin reflecting a fractured sky, the air smelled of ozone and recycled dreams. He jacked into a public terminal, his fingers dancing over a haptic deck scarred with use, pulling fragments of encrypted chatter from the dark pools of the net. The data was alive, slippery, coded in dialects of machine and man, whispering secrets of a deal gone sour in some offshore server farm. Trust was a currency nobody carried anymore, not when every connection could be a trojan horse.
She crouched in the alley, her smartcoat shimmering to match the graffiti-smeared wall behind her. The drone overhead was a cheap model, its sensors blind to her cloaking, but she didn’t trust it to stay that way. Tech evolved fast here, and yesterday’s edge was tomorrow’s obsolescence. Her neural feed buzzed with alerts—proximity warnings, encrypted pings from a contact she hadn’t seen since the Osaka run. The city didn’t sleep, and neither did its ghosts, their voices woven into the code that kept this sprawl alive."
:)
Coincidentally the pitch for my new startup.
G'day Boyter :-)
Not really sure if it’s just me, but I don’t really reach for them in my work anymore. Not sure if it’s because everything used to be a blog and now everything is an app, lower information density, or that content is less likely to be text.
dfxm12•6mo ago
Hack the planet!