[R³]

Jamesn

“But let your ‘Yes’ be ‘Yes’ and your ‘No’ be ‘No. … Whatever is more than these is of theevil one. -Matthew 5:37

 

Often, binary data is used to represent one of two conceptually opposed values, e.g: the outcome of an experiment (“success” or “failure”) the response to a yes-no question (“yes” or “no”) presence or absence of some feature (“is present” or “is not present”) The 0 & 1 don’t mean anything by themselves. They have to be assigned a meaning by someone. Zero might mean “no”, or it might mean “yes”, or “off” or “on”. Or more likely it’s part of a set of bits that encode to something else, say using ASCII or Unicode (or BCD or EBCDIC or …).

 

Molly Bloom: “yes I said yes I will Yes”

the sun shines for you he said the day we were lying among the rhododendrons on Howth head in the grey tweed suit and his straw hat the day I got him to propose to me yes first I gave him the bit of seedcake out of my mouth and it was leapyear like now yes 16 years ago my God after that long kiss I near lost my breath yes he said I was a flower of the mountain yes so we are flowers all a womans body yes that was one true thing he said in his life and the sun shines for you today yes that was why I liked him because I saw he understood or felt what a woman is and I knew I could always get round him and I gave him all the pleasure I could leading him on till he asked me to say yes and I wouldnt answer first only looked out over the sea and the sky I was thinking of so many things he didnt know of Mulvey and Mr Stanhope and Hester and father and old captain Groves and the sailors playing all birds fly and I say stoop and washing up dishes they called it on the pier and the sentry in front of the governors house with the thing round his white helmet poor devil half roasted and the Spanish girls laughing in their shawls and their tall combs and the auctions in the morning the Greeks and the jews and the Arabs and the devil knows who else from all the ends of Europe and Duke street and the fowl market all clucking outside Larby Sharons and the poor donkeys slipping half asleep and the vague fellows in the cloaks asleep in the shade on the steps and the big wheels of the carts of the bulls and the old castle thousands of years old yes and those handsome Moors all in white and turbans like kings asking you to sit down in their little bit of a shop and Ronda with the old windows of the posadas glancing eyes a lattice hid for her lover to kiss the iron and the wineshops half open at night and the castanets and the night we missed the boat at Algeciras the watchman going about serene with his lamp and O that awful deepdown torrent O and the sea the sea crimson sometimes like fire and the glorious sunsets and the figtrees in the Alameda gardens yes and all the queer little streets and pink and blue and yellow houses and the rosegardens and the jessamine and geraniums and cactuses and Gibraltar as a girl where I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes.”

“Oh, Jake,” Brett said, “we could have had such a damned good time together.”
Ahead was a mounted policeman in khaki directing traffic. He raised his baton. The car slowed suddenly pressing Brett against me.
“Yes,” I said. “Isn’t it pretty to think so?”

Scott Fitzgerald (1896-1940) and Ernest Hemingway (1899-1961). Usually, Fitzgeraldis quoted as saying: “The rich are different from you and me.” And, Hemingway is quoted as responding: “Yes, they have more money.”

“What doth it profit a man, to gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?”

When will the prophet motive be the coin of the realm ? And wisdom reign down supreme ?

All hail the prophets of fiction whom follow their bliss and write that their fiction might become the reality … of a brave new world 🌎

 

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