Not the Grail, just a regular one - Bablokos!!! - page 505

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Anatolii Zainchkovskii:
No factories, it's time for the traders to develop. All records of local traders are broken, now the last record is to be broken in terms of subscribers.

it's gonna be a lot easier to bargain with now.


..:
... And after death the souls of dead traders go to the factory! )))

and for those who practiced martingale when they were alive, there is a special workshop in the afterlife

 
Occasionally you may notice that the lost traders as phantoms try to come back and even try to talk and write messages..... they are like the ghostly inhabitants of Carcosa howling and circling in the black abysses of despair - without name, without memory, without purpose... recalling their unholy adventures and martingale carousels in hideous irrational detail... the life of such a ghost hovering over the cauldron of the chthonic factory would be regrettable, but it is no longer a life, but merely the metaphysical consequence of their unrighteous lives... with no hope of salvation and at the very bottom of existence... verily I say unto you - all the depth of corruption is reflected in their burnt-out souls...
 
The silence of the evening in the Sect's lobby was broken only by the soft clinking of glasses. The logs crackled in the fireplace and the rain drummed outside the window. Suddenly the door swung open and a gloomy figure appeared. The stranger was recognised by his tight trousers without pleats and with small buttons, a woollen monochrome suit, and of course a tweed travel-hunting cap with two visors and a curved pipe. The smell of strong tobacco spread through the hall.

-- I hear you've been talking about the war," he began at once and pulled out some reels of film. -- Well, it's not too badly made, but you can't get enough of it.

And the odious detective took a seat in a dark corner of the hall. If he were near, an attentive observer would find him carefully calculating something in a notebook. The sectarians pulled out a projector and started the tape.

-- The Ministry of Defence is immediately distrusted as almost everything is propaganda. All the archives are not opened yet. Though the clever ones have already got the whole picture. Even the Anglo-Saxons have questions, to say nothing of all the others... -mathmaker muttered.

The other sectarians were leafing through war albums and maps. At that moment a barbarian with an axe came flying down from the upper tier, swiftly leaping over the balustrade as usual to find himself in the centre. In his hands he held scrolls and drawings, which he immediately unfolded. Everyone saw a diagram resembling a Laplacian distribution and a cumulative function.

-- Is this a rare occurrence here? -- rumbled the barbarian? -- I have 60 of these pictures!

-- A rare occurrence is one that seldom happens," the desert prophet said gently but sneeringly. He practised only his own situational methods of analysis and his dishdasha was embroidered with gold threads forming the numbers 123... -- I see you have learned the operation of the arithmometer well,' added the desert prophet, appreciating the beauty of the diagram.

The mathematician, looking at the diagram, pointed out that it was necessary to take into account successive increments of one sign, because it affects the final probabilities in the transactions. The other sectarians did not understand the barbarian's allusions and continued their evening epicurean conversation. The barbarian disappeared as swiftly as he had appeared, and only an attentive observer would have noticed that a plaster trowel and spatula were sticking out of his trousers.

The detective from the corner continued diligently summarizing the figures in his notebook, not even paying attention to the barbarian's boisterous presentation, muttering something. Nothing foretold any surprises, but suddenly a new figure in a black robe and mask popped out from behind a curtain, and leaned ominously over the detective.

-- You're here again!? -- The cloaked figure exclaimed, and before the detective realized it had changed from one mask to another in a flash and added in a whisper: -- If you sell your cab, don't take it to the stock exchange; buy an omnibus or get a job at a chimney-seller's. Think of your life!

-- You damned junkie, I'm not going to ask you, you've already worn me out... - replied the detective and nervously got out of the way, while the many-faced man in the cloak changed his mask again. Everyone knew that he had a whole stock of these masks, but no one knew who he really was, for which they called him the many-faced.

-- Betting martingale is evil! -- It is unwise to increase your risk exposure if the posterior probability does not increase. If the trend cutoff doesn't work, it doesn't work. It's better to put a short lived box on news momentum. And don't forget your movie tapes!

The detective grabbed the reels and dashed out of the hall into the darkness and rain.

-- What's going to happen to him now? -- The sectarians spoke up shatteredly.

-- It's not the first time it's happened," the many-faced one replied, looking at the first casino prophet who was beginning to slip away, falling asleep in his chair with a book whose cover read: "The Gift of the Eagle.

And hanging from the chandelier, in a fluttering robe, the many-faced man began, in characteristic fashion, to quote at length: -- There is no ultimate material layer that is more real than another. For the animate and inanimate, there are different sequences of the universal code unfolding in the universal mind. Matter is the programmed assignment of perception of material phenomena. There are planting markers, i.e. code elements that indicate that a certain combination of code can temporarily become a foothold of consciousness. The world mind is the only level of being that cannot be simulated, but it is not the great void. Conscious code sequences, these are souls, do not necessarily disintegrate after death occurs. If there are no serious defects in them, they are attracted to similar metaprograms, attractors, programme clusters. The world mind is totally immobile and is not a personality. The mechanism for the emergence of consciousness, a conscious code sequence as a result of hypercomplex network evolution and it is not just about the landing markers, it is also about the quantum engine that drives the whole mechanism...






 
 
Aleksandr Volotko:
You're such a scumbag, @transcendreamer.

So that's the drummer who broke the doughboy? And now he's not doughboying any more?

Now there's definitely nothing left but the plant. :(

 
So, no one was able to identify any patterns in the naked stats? ....
Nicola is a crafty man, a HUMAN!
Without knowledge of coding, but intuitively at the level of casino experience saw the possibilities of forex. I do not know if I earned or not is not important.
And therefore dablokos alive .... Even on the bare statistics.
 
Heh heh heh
 
transcendreamer:
Heh heh heh
!
 
transcendreamer:
The silence of the evening in the Sect's lobby was broken only by the soft clinking of glasses. The logs crackled in the fireplace and the rain drummed outside the window. Suddenly the door swung open and a gloomy figure appeared. Everyone recognized the stranger by his tight trousers without pleats and with small buttons, his woolen monochrome suit, and of course his tweed travel-hunting cap with two visors and a curved pipe. The smell of strong tobacco spread through the hall.

-- I hear you've been talking about the war," he began at once and pulled out some reels of film. -- Well, it's not too badly made, but you can't get enough of it.

And the odious detective took a seat in a dark corner of the hall. If an attentive observer were near, he would find himself carefully calculating something in a notebook. The sectarians pulled out a projector and started the tape.

-- The Ministry of Defence is immediately mistrusted as almost everything is propaganda. All the archives are not opened yet. Though the clever ones have already got the whole picture. Even the Anglo-Saxons have questions, to say nothing of all the others... -- the mathematician muttered.

The other sectarians were leafing through war albums and maps. At that moment a barbarian with an axe came flying down from the upper tier, swiftly leaping over the balustrade as usual to find himself in the centre. In his hands he held scrolls and drawings, which he immediately unfolded. Everyone saw a diagram resembling a Laplacian distribution and a cumulative function.

-- Is this a rare occurrence here? -- rumbled the barbarian? -- I've got sixty of these pictures!

-- A rare occurrence is one that rarely happens," the desert prophet said gently but sneeringly. He practised only his own situational methods of analysis and his dishdasha was embroidered with gold threads forming the numbers 123... -- I see you have learnt the operation of the arithmometer well," added the desert prophet, appreciating the beauty of the diagram.

The mathematician, looking at the diagram, pointed out that it was necessary to take into account successive increments of one sign, because it affects the final probabilities in the transactions. The other sectarians did not understand the barbarian's allusions and continued their evening epicurean conversation. The barbarian disappeared as swiftly as he appeared, and only an attentive observer would have noticed that he had a plasterer and trowel sticking out of his trousers.

The detective from the corner continued diligently summarizing the figures in his notebook, not even paying attention to the barbarian's boisterous presentation, muttering something. Nothing foretold any surprises, but suddenly a new figure in a black robe and mask emerged from behind a curtain, and leaned ominously over the detective.

-- You're here again!? -- The cloaked figure exclaimed, and before the detective knew it she had swapped one mask for another and added in a whisper: "If you sell your cab, don't take it all to the stock exchange; buy an omnibus, or get yourself a job at a chimney sweep. Think of your life!

-- You damned junkie, I'm not going to ask you, you've already worn me out... - replied the detective and nervously got out of the way, while the many-faced man in the cloak changed his mask again. Everyone knew that he had a whole stock of these masks, but no one knew who he really was, for which they called him the many-faced one.

-- Betting martingale is evil! -- It is unwise to increase your risk exposure if the posterior probability does not increase. If the trend cutoff doesn't work, it doesn't work. It's better to put a short lived box on news momentum. And don't forget your movie tapes!

The detective grabbed the reels and rushed out of the hall, straight into the darkness and rain.

-- What's going to happen to him now? -said the sectarians in a crushing voice.

-- It's not the first time it's happened," the many-faced one replied, looking at the first casino prophet who was beginning to slump, falling asleep in his chair with a book whose cover read, "The Gift of the Eagle.

And hanging from the chandelier, in a fluttering robe, the many-faced man began, in characteristic fashion, to quote at length: -- There is no ultimate material layer that is more real than another. For the animate and inanimate, there are different sequences of the universal code unfolding in the universal mind. Matter is the programmed assignment of perception of material phenomena. There are planting markers, i.e. code elements that indicate that a certain combination of code can temporarily become a foothold of consciousness. The world mind is the only level of being that cannot be simulated, but it is not the great void. Conscious code sequences, these are souls, do not necessarily disintegrate after death occurs. If there are no serious defects in them, they are attracted to similar metaprograms, attractors, programme clusters. The world mind is totally immobile and is not a personality. The mechanism for the emergence of consciousness, a conscious code sequence as a result of hypercomplex network evolution and it's not just about the landing markers, it's also about the quantum engine that drives the whole mechanism...
Holy shit!)
Where did you get that from? Or did you write it yourself?)
 
Aleksander:

well... since inquiring (bright) minds - masters of mathematical drainage don't like grail-like trading systems... well... especially for them, let's just say... there is no grail...

but what's left? - then we need something simpler - something that makes a profit... ...and preferably not a measly 100,000 percent a year... but more substantial... Thousands of percent.)

Later, I'll give you an Example - the state of real trading for 4-5 months, showing in my humble opinion, an acceptable result ... like an increase in initial deposit by 20-30 times...

"A measly 100 percent..." Ehhhhh where is all the enthusiasm of such comrades now...
Here, every 5% to the 50th probability of profit gives such an increase in profit, that with a guaranteed probability of 65% you get in any case, a plus for any period of time. That's the goal of doughnuts in reality. Not this mythical 1000%.
1...498499500501502503504505506507508509510511512...650
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