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Guyton printed and Thompson laughed. Losing your hands to the printing press was nothing compared to losing self to an algorithm, a standardized operations to create "content." Coming from the genre of subjective's loss to evermore reflexive systems mirroring the structures they sat inside. Bochner to Asher. But Thompson's mirror churned through information processes arbitrarily translating randomized position into codified color produced as beautifully arbitrary as "pollen floating on water." From 3 standard stoppages to E. Kelly to McCollum arbitrariness in abstraction has a long history, and Markov Cheyney precipitating its endgames using of models that turn code into money.
