Someone has put programmers’ fridge magnet poetry on our fridge. I suspect it was a well-targetted marketing freebie, like the beanbag penguin that sits looking out onto Old Street. In any case, it has already attracted the attention of several clearly very talented individuals:
gorgeous dangling cyberspace whisper foo
and this ironic gem
greasy hacker @ deprecated network tiny bucket spawn bandwidth controller
My favourite, though, is the person that has arranged some magnets into a pair of parens, with the single atom
Up close, it is a subtle play on self-description, a visual pun on syntactic abstraction; but macroscopically, the seemingly trivially-evaluated expression brings recursion into the fold – its position and spelling suggests that there is more yet to be unravelled, and poses the question “How do we define truth?”.