A light hearted poem inspired by the predictability and Chaos theory |
One fateful sunny day I was walking through the park I was only just sixteen and full of pubesant spark I had in my breast pocket with a single purpose to assault the deadliest and most elastic multi functioned catapult I decided to myself that I would play and evil game and so on seeing a swooping blackbird naively I took aim My shot was not that good and I missed But inevitably as fate rules directly hit a robin in his now tender family jewels the now paralised plummeting bird was not best pleased. as well you can imagine and neither was the man driving the manure wagon who was forced on a direct path straight towards the man in the outdoor swimming bath. As the cart went into the pool and as gravity will tell you.. It wasnt very long before the man was bathing in cow poo Now if the robin had predicted that the stone would hit his regions then the man would not be bathing in the biproduct of unhealthy friesians but if the robin had predicted that this fateful thing would happen then it would never have been foretold and so follow the same pattern.... So the message of the story is incase that you are lost is that predicting predictability will end in utter chaos and the moral of the story is incase your head is throbbing? Never underestimate the power of a half castrated robin |