The move shared by all six: one unit repeated, where the unit carries data and the pattern is the information. So the rule here is that every mark is computed from something real or it does not go on. Nothing below is drawn to look like a reference.
Two of the references behind this page do the same thing: a smooth curve printed again as a stepped bitmap, and one face at sixteen resolutions. Both are resolution loss, shown as a sequence.
That is not a metaphor for what ELIZA does. It is literally what ELIZA does. A sentence goes in whole and comes back at lower resolution: case gone, punctuation gone, everything after the first comma thrown away, what is left matched to a pattern and poured into a template.
So the left ladder is one real line of yours, and every rung was captured from the running engine, not described from the code. You can watch afraid of me become group (2), get poured into a template, and come back as afraid of you. The type loses resolution with it: serif at 25px in the human hand, mono at 14px in the machine's.
The right ladder is the one that matters. It is a line where no keyword was found. Five rungs where nothing happens, then it falls through all 37 rules and lands on a sentence the machine keeps in a drawer. Nine of her twenty seven lines did that. This is the 33% as an object rather than a number.
How it lives in the projectOne plate, inside section 02, right where the page currently explains how the program works in prose. It replaces that explanation rather than joining it. It is also the honest home for the pull quote about editing: this is what editing looks like when a machine does it.
fired in a real conversation never fired, not once
The reference card set is twelve named operations, each drawn on generic marks. It is a vocabulary you can read at a glance.
ELIZA already has one. 37 keyword rules, 65 decomposition patterns, 255 reassembly templates. Those numbers came out of the engine on this machine, not from a document.
So each card's mark is generated from that rule's own structure: one row per decomposition pattern, one stroke per reassembly template, angle set by the rule's rank. The 37 marks were not chosen. The engine generated them. That is why i is the densest card on the sheet, with 45 templates, and dreamed is nearly bare.
And then the finding, which is the reason this is an artifact and not a poster: 25 of the 37 never fired once, across both her transcript and the bot's. Those cards are the cold ones. That is the machine nobody ever reached. A visitor sees the size of the thing and the size of what was used, in the same glance, without being told.
How it lives in the projectOne full-bleed sheet, as the floor of section 03, under the recorded runs. It is the only place on the page where the whole program is visible at once, so it is also the honest answer to how big is this thing really. Hovering a card can print its actual patterns. Nothing needs to move.
One character substituted. That substitution is the name of the work.
Phoenician aleph travelled east into Aramaic and became the Hebrew א. That is the letter he wrote his book in.
The same aleph travelled west into Greek and Latin and became A. That is the only alphabet the 1966 program could read, and the reason he typed to it in English.
The reference traces one glyph across writing systems, with the source named under each. It treats a letter as an archive.
This project is one letter. ELIZA becomes ALIZA, and that single substitution is the title, the argument and the joke at once. The page already performs it in the opening animation: the E is selected and deleted and an A takes its place. Nothing on the page currently explains why that is more than a pun.
It is more than a pun because of where the A sits. He wrote in Hebrew. He typed to the machine in English. The machine read only Latin. Those are three writing systems in one room, and aleph is the point where they are the same letter: the Hebrew and the Latin are siblings, both descended from the same Phoenician sign.
So this plate is not decoration and it is not a history lesson. It is the receipt for the title.
How it lives in the projectA single spread at the very top of section 01, or as the last thing before the doors. It is the only artifact of the three that a visitor could screenshot and post on its own, which is worth something on a page nobody has found yet.
What this one still owesThe glyphs are set from real Unicode codepoints for each script, and the dates are the conventional ones. The descent of aleph into both the Hebrew and the Latin letter is the standard account of the alphabet's history and is not a finding of this project. It has not yet been checked against a single named authority, and until it has, this plate is the least sourced thing on the site.