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The good old English to English translator

August 31st, 2009

Some years ago, for a reason that I don’t remember, I wrote an English to English translator. Basically it translates from English through a whole host of other languages and then back to English.

Anyhow, someone out there on the Internet found it amusing and posted this comment on an unrelated entry:

dude your english to english converter rocks, where can i find something like this for microsoft word or a web version that i can use on large documents

So I responded in email, which spawned this conversation:

random internet guy to me:
Thank you for returning to me, I am very happy with this tool is useful for something in the translation from English into another language besides English, they speak English well, or to say that, like language, queen of Great Britain is cold, this tool is that the majority of Britons seem silly, but it is a kind of spiritual support, he plays all the tribal mentality of Le Mans. Whether or not interest me, but it seems very impressive and culturally cool. But Google was that of syntax or algorithm that is used, because we noticed that in motion, or at least five different languages.

me to random internet guy:
I am glad that he was a useful tool. I do not know why and I said, a translator, but it must be useful, since it is often in response to people who actually come to conflicting messages. Sometimes I wish I had heard that people are sent e-mail, yes, but again I sometimes think that life is absurd afraid of me. I do not know better, what the hell is going on in the head. In any case, I am pleased that, as a useful and entertaining.

I love the Internet.

General

  1. lace
    November 8th, 2009 at 07:30 | #1

    try putting Shakespearean sonnets in it, it comes out very interesting. On sonnet 154, one phrase came out “evil drug development”

  2. Anonymous
    February 14th, 2011 at 13:12 | #2

    “Let me not to the marriage of true minds
    Admit impediments. Love is not love
    Which alters when it alteration finds,
    Or bends with the remover to remove:
    O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,
    That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
    It is the star to every wandering bark,
    Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
    Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
    Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
    Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
    But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
    If this be error and upon me proved,
    I never writ, nor no man ever loved.”

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