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I’m sure you’re all going to think I’m getting obsessed with randomness, but before I leave the topic I’d just like to share a few words about the curse of predictability.

It’s not widely known that predictability as a curse began with King Sisyphus. Actually, he wasn’t one that needed pity, preying on travellers and his own citizens, but he was sometimes portrayed as representing the sun rising in the east and setting in the west, something that has had a fair bit of predictability to it for the last 4 billion years or so. Given his wicked deeds he was condemned to watch a boulder roll down a hill, only to have to carry it back up and watch it all over again.

I’m sure that’s enough for some of you to reconsider predictability already, but there’s more. You see, when I started work I began at 8am on the dot. They were nice enough to ask me to turn up, so I though it disrespectful not to oblige. In fact, I carried on turning up at 8am for the rest of that first week. This was a mistake. Before I knew what had happened they were expecting me to turn up every morning at 8am. Can you imagine it? Time and time again. 8am, 8am, 8am. There was no stopping them. I blame myself, of course. It’s too late for me, but I offer this as a warning to those of you who maybe considering obliging an employer with your presence.

I know that some maybe trembling with fear as I write, but I have one more warning.

This may come as a shock to many of you, but I have a friend; a real, live, flesh and blood, human friend. But this friend created a monster. With a moments carelessness he brought the curse of predictability straight from Sisyphus’s rock to his lottery ticket. Yes, you read that correctly. In the middle of the wonder and glory of random number selection, predictability reared its ugly head. How could such a mistake be made, you ask? Easy.

You see, when the lottery began in the UK, this friend decided on his lucky numbers of the basis of family birthdays and anniversaries. At first sight there seems nothing wrong with that, but he used the same birthdays and anniversaries every week. It only took a few weeks for that awful rock to roll downhill and the reality to dawn on my friend – he didn’t dare miss a week’s lottery. The numbers were called every week, and because of his predictability, he knew what numbers were his … whether he bought a ticket of not! He lived in fear of not getting a lottery ticket in case his numbers came up. I feel so bad that I let him fall into this crippling condition. Yes, I’m the friend who let his friend get too predictable.

There you have it, from the Greeks to the modern day, predictability lures the innocent into its trap. My advice is to reset your alarm clock, close your eyes when choosing your lottery numbers, and avoid anyone asking for a hand with a rock at all costs.00

Best wishes for a week most unpredictable.


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