An Introduction to Speed-Reading

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Aloha Generalissimo! your speed-reading dollars, your plenty, it is to serve you on a platter, thus taking these advice. How to approach the text: The text is devil-sticks. The text is "what goes down stairs" i.e. Slinky. The text is one one thousand two one thousand three one thousand monkey on the council lungfish farm. Tip: The eyes should move independently. The left eye should overtake the right eye on the straight. The mouth should blow indolent spit globes, the correct embouchure is shown in fig. 8. Tip: Hold the text as you would hold a bad red cabbage i.e. away from you and preferably out of the window. Scold it without remorse, say BAD CABBAGE, say that. Stick it in the shredder marked Deutsche Bank. Tip: The text is an ornery slut you push a starting pistol up its gaping wimbledon hole it will moan like a blind calf shove it on up. Ways of disabling the text: (1) pin-down (2) half-Nelson(3) "Matt Thorne, the idiot novelist." Tip: Make the cat read it. Getting started: First read the page as a bitmap. What is a text what a image so on ad plasmam. Readers possessed of "the funk" (see fig. 9) may use multiple algorithms to analyse the stroke edge: oh mother she will go wandering off. I've never had a multiple algorithm. Well then baby take an average. Plunder the good earth. Reading myths, #1: "Reading is linear." Au contraire Claire, reading is in a bent hoop belle of oval what blatant Valerie blent is what that, obviously. How to get more out of the text: In the first stages of reading, the objective is to obtain as much meaning as possible from the text. Synthetic word-splitting enzymes such as Phonemase can help improve meaning yield by up to 98% per cent / exploded banana republic. Throw me a dry-loving bone here mailman / the pulp wash process: make sure jellification of the text is avoided during concentration. During what. During concentration I think he said. It's more of a blip. If that's a blip I'm Quincy. Pod: There is in the town of Coblenz a poor man who is bewitched in this way. In the presence of his wife he is in the habit of acting after the manner of men with pamphlets, that is to say, of practising reading, as it were, and he continues to do this repeatedly: nor have the cries and urgent appeals of his wife any effect in making him desist. And after he has read two or three pamphlets, he bawls out: "We are going to start all over again." After an incredible number of such pamphlets, the poor man sinks to the floor, utterly exhausted. Tip: Hey! Have a shit fit. Do a benny. Do a brassica. Replace every fourth thought with "Bo Diddley" (fig. 10). Tip: Stick map pins in its outset. Find a sturdy looking-surface. Before it goes swimming down Filibuster Cove change its mind, its arrows, cut its Speedos henry: salt mustard virgula shopsoil. Leave it to Beaver at the tan-skin crossroads heading south. Tip: Undertake to read the text in a smoky environment. The text will think it is on fire and the words will form orderly queues and proceed to the nearest exit. Tip: Disrobe the dirty begging text and lube its wilful vertices. The text is a reverb chasm awaiting steamboat operator's contra-snatch. Reading myths, #2: "Reading is a laborious process and is time-consuming." Nothing could be further from the sofa. Get a mandrel bent exhaust system. Install an underdrive serpentine pulley. Grab a witch-hammer. Make your fucking Hispanic pool-cleaner move the book while you keep your eyes absolutely still as if you were in some kind of academic catatonia or waking lifestyle narcosis, pausing once every minute or so to gargle your dark brown spawny pina colada. Allow your mind to wander from (a) sea to (b) shining sea and (c) back again. Tip: Phone society. It's society's mess. Tip: a note on bookmarks. [insert bookmark note here] Bullet point: "When a text, proud of its interior-exterior relations, deceives its reader, then the king should ensure that it be torn apart by dogs in a place much frequented by people. …