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English essay



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Mon May 24, 2010 11:52 am
MiaParamore says...



First of all a big 'thank you' to all who will read this.

I have an assignment of writing a story on the topic What if there was no calculation'. Its such a stupid topic. Wouldn't we still survive? Any ideas are welcome. And the one whos answer would be most helpful will get 150 points. hehe:P

~Thanks in advance!
"Next time you point a finger
I might have to bend it back
Or break it, break it off
Next time you point a finger
I'll point you to the mirror"

— Paramore
  





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Mon May 24, 2010 2:17 pm
Rosendorn says...



We probably would, but if there was no calculation we'd probably be stuck in the stone age. No calculation means no addition, subtraction, multiplication or division (forget about anything higher). There might be other systems of getting stuff done, but I'm not sure how it would work.
A writer is a world trapped in a person— Victor Hugo

Ink is blood. Paper is bandages. The wounded press books to their heart to know they're not alone.
  





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Mon May 24, 2010 2:43 pm
MiaParamore says...



Thanks a lot Rosey!
"Next time you point a finger
I might have to bend it back
Or break it, break it off
Next time you point a finger
I'll point you to the mirror"

— Paramore
  





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Sun Jun 06, 2010 10:31 am
Lava says...



Well, here's something.
Humans would've evolved to overcome the calcualtion-disability but if there was no calculation, the current technology will be completely unheard of.
Unless, they evolved at a rapid rate to become species that didn't have to rely on calculations (Which still is difficult, because, math is that base of EVERYTHING. Like how would they ration food? Or how would there be a sense of belonging to a community? Or how would there be distances measured without calculation?)

Well, that's my point. >.<

EDIT-Oh wait, it's old. Anyway, :)
~
Pretending in words was too tentative, too vulnerable, too embarrassing to let anyone know.
- Ian McEwan in Atonement

sachi: influencing others since GOD KNOWS WHEN.

  








It had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny yellow brass knob in the exact middle. The door opened on to a tube-shaped hall like a tunnel: a very comfortable tunnel without smoke, with panelled walls, and floors tiled and carpeted, provided with polished chairs, and lots and lots of pegs for hats and coats—the hobbit was fond of visitors. The tunnel wound on and on, going fairly but not quite straight into the side of the hill —The Hill, as all the people for many miles round called it—and many little round doors opened out of it, first on one side and then on another.
— JRR Tolkien