_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Come, every frustum longs to be a cone, And every vector dreams of matrices. Hark to the gentle gradient of the breeze: It whispers of a more ergodic zone. -Stanislaw Lem, "Cyberiad"
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^__^
(xx)\_______
(__)\ )\/\
U ||----w |
|| ||
sort namesd.txt | uniq -cd