On a slightly related note to my earlier comment about NSA data mining, I just read a rather amusing paragraph by Peter Preston in the Guardian:

The New York Times’s own search wizard recites his golden lessons for search referral. “Don’t get cutesy. Put yourself in the mind of your audience. Use the words your audience might use to seek your content.” Don’t say “Mourning crowds converge on Vatican”, say “Pope dies”. And don’t wander deep into the forests of argot, where Macca chases Mucca, where Big Ron used to be a footballer manager but may now be a tubby Brazilian centre forward, where German fans signal their enthusiasm for their English counterparts via “Love is in the Herr”. None of that is grist to the Google mill. All of it is search repellent. Bring me boring heads on chatty blogs. Computers don’t do jokes; it’s just pun of those things.

Nicely done Peter! Sometimes I wonder if the best writing in London comes after closing time on the Strand.

But more importantly, I also wonder if puns are not only classified by cryptographers as unbreakable to artificial intelligence, but whether they will find their way to clever linguistic acrobats trying to fly below radar. Imagine underground groups all speaking in puns. Oh, poetry, wherefore art thou…