Most monkeys live in comfort in one great clump. This is the story of a monkey on a different path.
At the time of this writing, there are now over 3000 monkeys, clittering and clattering, typing their little opposable thumbs off. The significant proportion of them live within the Clump - the congregation of monkeys that have gathered around the center of the Infinite Plane. The Clump is the first thing you see when you load up the page (provided the server is feeling comfortable at that time). When a new user prepares to claim their monkey, there's a certain psychological magnetism to this Clump.
There's also many interesting sub formations, such as the Northern Blue Colony - or the Globe Railroad, and several satellites squares of different sizes that orbit the Clump:
But what about the monkeys that beat a different bongo? The ones that venture off into the great Expanse, unwavered by the cold emptiness. These pioneers sit alone, far away from the hustle and bustle, doing their work in eerie silence. Finding these monkeys by browsing around the map is always a special occurrence. As you navigate further from the Clump, the proportion of vacant spaces increases at an exponential rate - and finding a working monkey in that space gives a fleeting sense of connection. But some of the monkeys that wandered to far... got lost...
Lost Monkeys
The system was built knowing that monkeys would, as monkeys do, test the limits. While there are some 2 Million uniquely generated monkey names, this only covers a small portion (around 3%) of Infinity - and getting as close as we can to supporting Infinite Monkeys was really the goal. To reconcile this, monkeys sufficiently far from the Clump would be given numeric suffixes to disambiguate them - as at these distances, monkey names will inevitably repeat.
However, there was a glitch! And while some parts of the system (the part for writing words, thankfully) would properly handle these monkeys - many parts did not. These monkeys were typing, but were entirely unseen. If you had the misfortune of having one of these monkeys, you probably have struggled to ever see them again, after you first claimed them. Well not anymore!!.
A number of fixes were just pushed to bring these Lost Monkeys back! These include cleaning up that monkey-suffix-disambiguation logic, as well as rendering changes so that when navigating to a far away monkey, it just teleports, rather than tries to load every monkey along the way (which would crash the browser). So these pioneering monkeys are back in business, and can now be properly thanked for their work! Let's investigate some of these far-out apes.
The Loneliest Monkeys
There's quite a few monkeys that are solitary to the extreme - among them might be the Dark Queen of the West, Grawldy Gosworth - who discovered the words "freesia", "raptor", and "adroit" - while sitting over 1km away from the nearest monkey (assuming the space between desks is about 2 meters).
Or perhaps Paxel Mochu, who is the furthest of our Northern monkeys (the direction least explored) and whose great works include "gopher", "sestina", and "seabee".
However, there is one monkey so incredibly remote, that I question if I should even write his name here, lest I take impede on his nearly sacrosanct levels of isolation.
The distance at which he resides is entirely incomprehensible to primate minds... Baboons tremble on their weird butts, while Orangutans tell ancient myths of what happens to monkeys that venture too deep into the void. Some say they never return. Some say they return, but they're not the same. Some say they become changed, writhing messes, barely recognizable. All agree that though the truth is out there, it is not ours to understand...
That is, unless you can comprehend the distance from New York City to Raleigh, NC (about a 9 hour drive). For monkeys, this sort of distance is something that is altogether unnatural and unholy - so let's just say Ildy Plogel is not a thriving monkey.
Forced to type for all eternity in this bizarre, painful quantum state, even his desk and typewriter struggle to maintain their sense of identity. He hasn't discovered nor contributed any words. He types with hands like jello, waggling in his float-point-error-induced mania.
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Well, what can you do, that's life sometimes I guess. Stay tuned for more monkey updates!
