I’ve just returned from a week of study under Allison Parrish at the Anderson Ranch Arts Center in Snowmass Colorado. It was a week of studying a number of methods of generating and manipulating text using computation and machine learning. I had already been using the markovify python library to build text generators for a lot of my work, but this week I was really able to suppliment what I had been doing with a number of complimentary methods.

Here’s the output from a one-act-play generator I made in class and a bunch of pictures of trees and things.


SCENE: The kitchen of the EGGBURGER'S in a small town on a hill. It is a midday in the middle of July. An exuberant room is unveiled, bearing the traces of another generation. A large armoire at the left, now concealed by an embroidered screen; a map of Eurasia, an unused concertina, and a steamer trunk branded with the initials 'M.H.' create a subtle atmosphere of danger. There is a lamp on the table, and another on a bracket by the door in back. Bright noon's sun filters through the window doors. The EGGBURGER'S are discovered together. Penelope, a rather bright woman of about twenty-six, with a suggestion of Mephistophelian spirit, is standing haughtily, looking out into the garden. Her mother, Emily, nearing seventy three, ornate and esoteric in manner, is seated at the table reading.

Emily (reads aloud)

Well, sir, it is but four words, Penelope. Yes, in regards to father; I would have cost to keep and you'll give yourself as she did. If there is in her finds it, and they lived here till they died, hating each other to the child, as it has been discovered that no one knows, you surely cannot know. I had to let go; you had proved that I have had us all here together now.


I don't follow.


You may not know it, but your mother if you think I am truthful now when I see what you were determined. It won't do to try to make a Spiritualist of her. No; it was your father speaking and his father back, Penelope. College and then more help to get started these days.

Penelope (rudely)

What do you mean?


For that matter, how do you know how I hate to have a fiendish power of changing her mind to suit your pleasure.

Penelope (stammers)

For think if he is a greater than I. Thou, too, Brutus! I guess what you mean Sir William Crackley... But, that's, that's fresh air for those ideas if he doing?

Emily (gasps)

Yes, you helped him the crimes Of people to keep you think I may een take care of being able to keep you were silent or not. Your hardness, I was building it if you if you'd spray mixture left, and conceited women folks. That is a good many years since I held a candle to the dull, inert thing that used to think I would have cost to keep you here.

Penelope (sits)

What do you mean?

Emily (foolishly)

I don't follow.


have for the child, as children like you, for my old soul, to you think I held a time has been unfaithful to her to do.


How could you if you keep on with your work, going about the chief right to try to make a Spiritualist of her.


It's best to humor a young fellow's ideas if he should want to marry. But, good heavens, one can't be sure, and she had to keep that in mind. I know that I was speaking for those before All that tripe yuh been pullin', Aw, that's all a dope dream!

Emily (anxiously)

He had got on so well that he is a home, with associations and children. Is on't is an sha wed al tage, wels, I ustrove wasy dif that's onigh the say mand se beep thouppromethent, yout ush, a cosed.

Penelope (gets to her feet)

Wher I cound feen. It's and onstand move cal he luxur tared like hin how, st, thems. They I st, antago; I how your how's wer an', day me. How I knews frove woruse feryin't That out maked my ain, ando ke sou dow, undfathase! Spidecloneing.The ge. Oh, wer once was qual humothely. That out maked my ain, ando ke sou dow, undfathase! Spidecloneing. That a can I daught for monioneing. I do spell funfinesethe dif then pe airies. Her-upponly hat be now had tell thas ent opit mat you whet. The two stare at each other, at standoff, in enticing silence


* Generated using a corpus of combined dialogue from Polite Satires, by Clifford Bax, Contemporary One-Act Plays by B. Roland Lewis et al. The Hairy Ape by Eugene O’Neill and Sweet and Twenty: A Comedy in One Act by Floyd Dell *