Mathematical game
A mathematical game is a game whose rules, strategies, and outcomes are defined by clear mathematical parameters. Often, such games have simple rules and match procedures, such as Tic-tac-toe and Dots and Boxes. Generally, mathematical games need not be conceptually intricate to involve deeper computational underpinnings. For example, even though the rules of Mancala are relatively basic, the game can be rigorously analyzed through the lens of combinatorial game theory.
Mathematical games differ sharply from mathematical puzzles in that mathematical puzzles require specific mathematical expertise to complete, whereas mathematical games do not require a deep knowledge of mathematics to play. Often, the arithmetic core of mathematical games is not readily apparent to players untrained to note the statistical or mathematical aspects.
Some mathematical games are of deep interest in the field of recreational mathematics.
When studying a game's core mathematics, arithmetic theory is generally of higher utility than actively playing or observing the game itself. To analyze a game numerically, it is particularly useful to study the rules of the game insofar as they can yield equations or relevant formulas. This is frequently done to determine winning strategies or to distinguish if the game has a solution.
Blaufränkisch
Blaufränkisch (German for blue Frankish) is a dark-skinned variety of grape used for red wine. Blaufränkisch, which is a late-ripening variety, produces red wines which are typically rich in tannin and may exhibit a pronounced spicy character.
The grape is grown across Central Europe, including Austria, Czech Republic (in particular southern Moravia where it is known as Frankovka), Germany, Slovakia (where it is known as Frankovka modrá), Croatia (frankovka), Slovenia (known as modra frankinja), and Italy (Franconia). In Hungary the grape is called Kékfrankos (also lit. blue Frankish) and is grown in a number of wine regions including Sopron, Villány, Szekszárd, and Eger (where it is a major ingredient in the famous red wine blend known as Egri Bikavér (lit. Bull's Blood) having largely replaced the Kadarka grape). It has been called "the Pinot noir of the East" because of its spread and reputation in Eastern Europe. In America this grape is grown in Idaho, Washington State and the Finger Lakes region of New York State, where like in Germany it is known as Lemberger, Blauer Limberger or Blue Limberger.
Simulation video game
A simulation video game describes a diverse super-category of video games, generally designed to closely simulate aspects of a real or fictional reality.
A simulation game attempts to copy various activities from real life in the form of a game for various purposes such as training, analysis, or prediction. Usually there are no strictly defined goals in the game, with players instead allowed to freely control a character. Well-known examples are war games, business games, and role play simulation.
From three basic types of strategic, planning, and learning exercises: games, simulations, and case studies, a number of hybrids may be considered, including simulation games that are used as case studies.
Comparisons of the merits of simulation games versus other teaching techniques have been carried out by many researchers and a number of comprehensive reviews have been published.
History
While many credit simulation games beginning with Will Wright and SimCity in 1989, the true progenitor of the genre was "Fortune Builder", released in 1984 on Colecovision. Certain games such as SimLife and SimEarth were subsequently created and are capable of teaching players the basics of genetics and global ecosystems.
BARS
BARS may refer to:
Bars or bars may refer to:
Podcasts:
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by Canibus
100 Bars
by: CanibusYeah!!! That's the beat right there.
I'm about to black out with 100 bars on some professional shit.
So don't try this at home, yo.
Yo, yo, yo
My style of rhymin is ancient like Aztecs and Mayans
Because I recognize its all about timin
Me and my freestyle alliance practicin African voodoo science
In front of 20 ft. bonfires lookin skyward
Calculating May 5, 2000 the nine planets'll be in alignment
The arrival of the prophet in the cockpit
Of a starship the size of the Hale-Bopp comet
With mercury ion rockets
And a big ass "Canibus comin soon" poster on the side of it
I'm known geographically and intergalactically
That's why I got extraterrestrials that wanna battle me
They even tried kidnappin me
And they would've snatched me
If their craft didn't get trapped in the Earth's gravity
Engines stalled and failed. Crashed into a farmer's field
And that's really what caused Roswell
Undercover operatives workin for COM 12
Disguised as a nigga signed with a record deal
Lyrically I'm off scale
So all hail or get tossed towards Hell, whatever y'all feel
Briusin niggas, confusin niggas like Chip Fu from the Fu-Schnickens
Hit you with nuclear cruiser missiles
Hear the wild wolf growl
Styles stockpiled for miles from the ground to the clouds
Wack niggas wanna be down but its not allowed
Interrupt the cipher unannounced and you'll get punched in the mouth
With the southpaw southern fist
I'll bust your shit. Swell your lip and get the Bubba shrimp
Back the tougher shit. What a wimp
You giant Goliath. Niggas get shot with a rubber sling
I'm an experiment gone bad.
My brainwaves on an encephalograph show that I'm stark ravin mad
Your whole scientific staff'll get killed in a nuclear blast
When I throw the formula stashed in my hand
Flammable liquids in the lab explode
And you get stabbed with all the flyin glass
Trained to blow up commercial aircrafts
Trained in chemical weapons class
Just to see how long a nigga's breath'll last
I put him in a leather mask
Spray his ass with a can of pepper gas
Then watch him grab his neck and gag
Watch the nigga choke to death as I laugh
"You wanna battle?" is the type of question you should never ask
Nigga, pick a tougher task. See who the fuck'll last
Whoever lose'll get a solderin iron up the ass
You need to recognize
My hand is quicker than the eye
Quicker than the 5 speed Jamiroquai drives
A lifespan longer than 9 lives. Infinite rhymes that can't die
A nigga with a divine mind
I dedicate this to the wise. Dedicate it to dames
Dividin myself into 100 ten times
You can't deny the offerin's an offer
Flows that glow with aurora's the spark of light
Water fly like a saucer
With the torque of a Porsche
Murder a million MCs then autograph all of their coffins
Been gettin it on since I been born and I'm a live long
And I'm a be gettin it on till I'm gone
Look at all the stages I been on. All the songs that I spit on
I took an oath to rip everything I get on
A nigga like me should have Carpal Tunnel syndromes
In the wristbones from grippin microphones this long
I'm just a small fish in a big pond
And gets pissed off whenever I gets picked on
Nigga try to flip and get flipped on
My army march a million strong
Like the nation of Islam with suede timbs on
Extremely hostile
Fully armed troops dressed in frog suits and night vision goggles
A lyrical lynch mob
Shittin on niggas drawn to a hideous form with horns and a mink on
Duckin down low like Vietnam fightin the Vietcong
Screamin "incomin" when I see a bomb
Speak to your leader. Surrender your arms
You need about a million more soldiers to even the odds
Plus 800,000 to even consider a war
And 200,000 more to even look hard
You better drop your flag and withdraw
My cavalry charge accompanied by a blizzard of wicked metaphors
And smash y'all. Attach y'all to the back of my horse
And drag y'all across the motherfuckin asphalt
9 out of 10 niggas is frauds
You know who you are always talkin about your bitches and your cars
Your jewelry and your girls. It's like we from two different worlds
You motherfuckers really get on my nerves
Cause I'm beyond them, on some futuristic cyborg shit
I close my eyes when I freestyle so I could read what picture crossed in
Then raise my arms like a sorcerer and cast a fireball into the audience
To barbecue your brain organs
You feel like you've been thrown in a microwave oven
I flame broil suckers and hit 'em with some more shit
The raw shit. Call my reinforcements, the four horsemen
Take a big piece of chalk and draw a line across the stage pulpit
I dare a motherfucker to cross it
I'll even call my man Black Rob at two in the mornin
Tell him it's important. Tell him to call Sting 3 way and sing a chorus
Break your camcorders so you motherfuckers can't record it
Call the news, I'll kill your reporters
Start a lawsuit, I'll kill your lawyers
Fuck the soft shit and fuck what y'all think
My album's gold cause my album was the bomb, shit
Y'all niggas got your ass beat cause you asked for it
Got your picture taken and put in a tabloid
Cause you a man and you like to touch little boys
You fuck 'em in the ass, then you give 'em cash for it
That's some sick shit homeboy
A hundred years ago, they'd have took you to see Sigmund Freud
You fraudulent. Feminine. Fragile as a feather is
With an effortless blow, I'll crack your whole skeleton
You think you're better than Canibus, where's the evidence?
You got below average intelligence and poor penmanship
You need to shut the fuck up cause your breath stink
Take fifty cents and purchase a pack of peppermints
Battlin me you never win
You thought you was the only nigga that could sneak a weapon in?
Nigga guess again
Cause after I'm finished wreckin this shit
Latest News for: 100 bars game
GTA 6 Might cost $100, and this Twitch streamer thinks that’s totally fair
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