{"id":10684,"date":"2018-05-17T21:00:36","date_gmt":"2018-05-18T01:00:36","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/oddpla.net\/modernwizard\/?p=10684"},"modified":"2018-05-17T21:02:15","modified_gmt":"2018-05-18T01:02:15","slug":"speech-to-text-fails-at-the-cremation-of-sam-mcgee","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/oddpla.net\/modernwizard\/2018\/05\/17\/speech-to-text-fails-at-the-cremation-of-sam-mcgee\/","title":{"rendered":"Speech to text fails at The Cremation of Sam McGee"},"content":{"rendered":"

Jill and I were reading poems into the default speech-to-text converter in my computer. It made the following hash of Robert Service’s Cremation of Sam McGee:<\/a><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
\nBy the men whom oil for gold;
\nThe arctic trails have their secrets tales
\nThat would make your blood run cold;
\nThe northern lights have seen queer sites,
\nBut the clearest and they ever did see was that night on the march of weight will barged
\nEye cream they did say and mickey<\/p>\n

own and now see and make the ad was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows.
\nWhy he Left his home in the cells to roll round of the poll, god only know
\nHe was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like Isbell;
\nthough he\u2019d all friends say in his home leeway that \u201che does sooner living in hill.<\/p>\n

On a Christmas day we were massing are way over the capital D. Dawson trail.
\nTop of your cold! Capital T through the park a\u2019s fold its data like the driven a nail.
\nIf our eyes we\u2019d close, then the latches froze till sometimes we couldn\u2019t see;
\nIt wasn\u2019t much fun, but the only one to winter was say a mickey.<\/p>\n

And that very night, as we wait packed tight in a ropes beneath the snow, new line
\nin the dogs were fed, in the stars O\u2019ER head We\u2019re dancing heel and toe
\nHe turns to me, and \u201ccapital Seatac,\u201d senate seat, \u201cI\u2019ll cast in this trip, I\u2019d guess;
\nAnd if I do, I\u2019m asking you that you will to refuse my last request.\u201d<\/p>\n

The world he seemed so low that I couldn\u2019t say no; then he says with a sort of Malone:
\n\u201c is that Kerr said cool, and it\u2019s got right hold till I and shield and cleaned through two of the bone.
\nYet taints mean dead \u2013 it\u2019s my all full dread of the icy grade that pains; soul
\nJill 5122 swear that, Val warfare, you\u2019ll cremate my last wing names.\u201d<\/p>\n

And a panels a last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail;
\nand we started on \u2013 and at the streak of Don\u2014But to god he walked a ghastly play all
\nHe crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee \u2013
\nAnd before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of sea and it may be.<\/p>\n

There wasn\u2019t a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horn were-driven.
\nWith the corps half head that I couldn\u2019t get read, because of a promise given;
\nIt was lashed two of the sleigh, and it seemed to miss a: \u201cyou may tax Yorba Roland and brains,
\nAnd by due from message true, and it\u2019s up to you to cremate those glass remains.\u201d<\/p>\n

Now a promise made is a debt on paid, and the trail has its own Mr. Knut code.
\nIn the days to comment, though my wits were dumb In my heart how I cursed and that load.
\nIn the long, long night, but alone firelight, while the huskies, round in arena,
\nHow old out to their woes two of the homeless snows \u2013 I\u2019ll guide! How I knew Loma De vaca!<\/p>\n

And ever read day that quiet clay seemed too heavy and heavier grow;
\nAnd on high winds, though the dogs were spent and the Robb was getting low;
\nThe trail was bad and I felt have mad but I swore I would not give an;
\nand on and off and stained to the heat full frame and if Harkey and we\u2019ve a Korean.<\/p>\n

Till I came to love the margin of late Labarge, and eight Daryl Et Tu their lady;
\nIt was jammed in the ice, but I sought in a trice it was called the capital Alice capitol may.
\nI look at it, and I thought a bit and I would get my eye frozen Jama;
\nVan \u201chere,\u201d said I, we have a sudden cry, \u201cis my crematorium.\u201d<\/p>\n

Some plants yet\u2019t four from the cabin floor, and I let the boiler fire;
\nsome coal I\u2019ve found that was lying around, and I heaped
\nThe fuel higher; the flames just sorta, and the furnace road \u2013 such a Belize you seldom see
\nAnaheim burrowed a whole in the glowing coal in iced often say and that guy.<\/p>\n

Then I made a height, For I didn\u2019t like to hear him say asshole snow;
\nAnd the heavens scowl will, and the huskies how old, and the way and two B and to blow.
\nIt was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don\u2019t know why I;
\nAnd the greasy smoke in an indy cloak when streaking down the sky.<\/p>\n

I do not know how long in the snow by a wrestled with grisly for years;
\nbut the stars came out and they danced the about ERE aga I ventured near
\nI was sick with dread, but I bravely said: \u201cI\u2019ll just take a peek inside.
\nI guess he\u2019s cut, and it\u2019s time I a look\u201d; E whips as then the door I opened wide.<\/p>\n

And their SATs AM, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace grower!
\nAnd he wore a smile you could CA mile, and he said: \u201cplease close that door.
\nIt\u2019s fine in year, but I greatly fear you\u2019ll let you know the cold and storm\u2013
\nSince I left capital plum tree, down in Tennessee, it\u2019s the first time I\u2019ve been warm.\u201d<\/p>\n

There are strange thing was Don
\nIn the midnight sun Five of them men Home Oil for gold;
\nthe arctic adults have their secret tales that would make your blood run cold;
\nThe northern lights have seen queer site but the query as they ever did see
\nWas that night on the march of lake Labarge
\nI cremated see him on and that guy.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Jill and I were reading poems into the default speech-to-text converter in my computer. It made the following hash of Robert Service’s Cremation of Sam McGee:<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-10684","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/oddpla.net\/modernwizard\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10684","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/oddpla.net\/modernwizard\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/oddpla.net\/modernwizard\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/oddpla.net\/modernwizard\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/oddpla.net\/modernwizard\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=10684"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"http:\/\/oddpla.net\/modernwizard\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10684\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10688,"href":"http:\/\/oddpla.net\/modernwizard\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10684\/revisions\/10688"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/oddpla.net\/modernwizard\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=10684"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/oddpla.net\/modernwizard\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=10684"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/oddpla.net\/modernwizard\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=10684"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}