Image Credit: https://www.flickr.com/photos/theredproject/3968278028 by Michael Mandiberg
It's interesting what can happen when your phone spell checks things.
Recently I was working on a short film where my scene was simply to sit down and text myself for a few minutes.
I decided to have some fun with this, so I thought of bits of several poems I remembered and started texting them to myself.
Here's what my phone wrote:
To be perfectly normal be. Whether to nobler in the mind to suffer the perils of death or to somehow end them
There not to reason why there nut to do and di into the calle y rode the six hundred
Twas brilliant and the sl8tjy tones and the m9m rots outgrabe.
Beware the kabberwoxk, my son, the teeth that bite the mouth that alip.
And rest s9d he by the tum rum tree to await the fearsome jabberwoxk.
The coral blade went anixkwe- snack.
And he went galp9jg back.
Ahu son hast this slain the jabberwock, how father chortle in his jot. Oh yy bish bot, oh franking day.
There once was a woman who lived in a show and had so many children she didn't know what to do.
For comparison, here's what I was quoting from:
To be or not to be. Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing end them?
Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die. Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. (from Charge of the Light Brigade)
’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves, and the mome raths outgrabe.
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
So rested he by the Tumtum tree and stood awhile in thought.
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack! He left it dead, and with its head He went galumphing back.
And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.
There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.
She had so many children, she didn't know what to do.
