There’s an algorithm for that, you know. There’s an algorithm for everything. There’s even an algorithm for me telling you that there’s an algorithm for everything…

I was buying a Big Lick in the Centra store. It was a hot day and I fancied a Big Lick. Why not treat myself, I said. Only it wasn’t me that said it, it was the algorithm, it was the code. The code was making me say this. The code was making me cross the road and go into the Centra store and buy the Big Lick. The code was making me walk back out into the street again, take the wrapping off the Big Lick, throw the wrapping in the bin, and start licking it. The code was making me do everything.

I know, the code made me think, after I finish this Big Lick I’ll go and see my friend Tim. Maybe we can hang out together, go for a latte or something. Tim’s always fun to hang out with.  A bit conceited, a bit self-absorbed – possibly even a bit narcissistically disordered in my view – but he’s generally kind of funny. He often comes out with funny comments, kind of ‘off-the-wall’ type comments. The code was telling me to think all this, so I did.

The code had become grindingly obvious at this stage. Kind of hideous. Why is code always so hideous, I wondered? Only it wasn’t me wondering this it was the code. The code was making me wonder why the code becomes so hideous when it becomes too grindingly obvious. The code was getting self-reflexive. It was getting recursive. The code was busy feeding off itself, but in a bad way.

Is there a good way for the code to feed off itself, I wondered? A way that wouldn’t be hideous, a way that wouldn’t grate so much on the nerves. A way that wouldn’t turn into such a nightmare experience? I didn’t think there was. I looked down all of a sudden and realized that my Big Lick had melted in the sun and had dribbled all over my jeans.