Hi,
 Re this question of how to use Prizmo: below are two fairly long extracts the 
first taken freehand using Prizmo and the second using the stand scan pro. 
Neither of these OCR renditions are perfect by any means, however, they are 
taken from the newspaper and The newspaper has been folded to give me a smaller 
size to photograph. Especially the one using the stand scan pro had to be 
folded much more and is by no means lying flat. Thus, at the end of the text  
there  is quite a lot of nonsense and rubbish. So, for anyone new to using OCR 
packages on their phone, these two renditions do at least give you the flavour 
of the article in question. I could have chosen to use something flat like a 
letter and in that case I would expect the results to be very good both 
FreeHand and using the stand scan pro. But I wanted to demonstrate something 
that is actually very difficult. In the past, especially freehand, it was very 
difficult to get any results at all from the newspaper article. The print is so 
bad and because of the size of the sheet one had to move the phone too far away 
so the characters would be very tiny. However, Prizmo and TextGrabber  are 
maturing as apps and are becoming more and more usable both FreeHand and using 
a lightbox like the stand scan pro.

With the latest version of Prizmo, I take the shot in the following manner: if 
I am using the stand scan pro, I placed the phone on the top of the box in the 
right position, I slide the target text inside the box, then I tap the screen 
in the middle button where it says quick capture. I touch the same place again 
and here take picture, so I double tapped  That. And Prizmo does all the rest 
for me.

Using Prizmo freehand, nowadays is easier than it used to be. It offers us 
sound clues and verbal directions to help us find the correct position in which 
to hold the phone. So, if you're new to using Prizmo and your iPhone I suggest 
you play with it. Without a light box such as the stand scan pro, it is much 
more difficult to get a good result, however, it is possible!

Good luck,
Sandy. 
Heaven knows I'm miserable still

Morrissey's memolrs, the best written by a musician since Dylar~ echo the anger 
and (vricism of his songs, says ]Veil McCormick

Monissey: Autobioqraphy

480PP, PENGUIN CLASSICS, ~ £8.99 (PLUS £1.35 P&P) 0844871 1515 mmmmm

~
"~ ~ anchester is the old I • ] II
fire wheezing its last, I • ] I
where we all worry I V l ourselves soulless, ..L " ._It. forbidden to be 
romantic." As fans, we approach musical autobiographies with trepidation, 
fearing that, stripped of melody and rhythm, our lyrical heroes will reveal 
themselves to be unremarkable artists and shallow thinkers. But from the 
opening pages of Morrissey's autobiography, which evokes the grim backdrop of 
"Victorian knife-plunging Manchester" with relish, you know you are in good 
hands.
With characteristic pretension, Morrissey's first book has been published as a 
Penguin Classic, a move that has offended purists - something that, one 
suspects, was always part of his intention,

harsh working-class poverty and atrocious education, with only the warmth of a 
large Irish family as (inadequate) protection.
Morrissey produces pungent passages on the useless brutality of sink schools, 
reminiscences of dejected teachers and tormented children, a cold burning 
condemnation of a system where "shame is cattle-prodded into kids who are in 
pursuit of bliss amid the unrelenting disapproval".
Still, in the midst of this horror, Morrissey can be sharply amusing.
The sympathy he gains sporting a bandage for a burn teaches him "all I shall 
ever need to know about attention and style". He demonstrates how depression 
and narcissism can be survival tactics, noting, in passing, that "sadness is 
habit forming".
Music and television provided succour, and Morrissey writes illuminatingly 
about both, but the real revelation is how his fascination for poetry (picked 
up in libraries after school, waiting for his mother to collect him) helped him 
develop He seems to understand what makes him so fascinating as an artist and 
difficult as a human

+
Rag
REVIEW BOOKS

Heaven knows I'm miserable still

Morrissey's memoirs, the best written by a musMan s&ce Dylan, echo the anger 
and lyricism of his songs, says Nell McCormick

Morrissey: AutobiocjraDhy 480PP, pENGUIN CLASSICS, • £8.99 (PLUS £ 1.35 P&P) 
0844 S71 1515 ~M anchester is the old fire wheezing its last, where we all 
worry ourselves soulless, forbidden to be romantic." As tans, we approach 
musical autobiographies with txepidation, fearing that, stripped of melody and 
rhythm, our lyrical heroes will reveal themselves to be unremarkable artists 
and shallow thinkers. But from the opening pages of Morrissey's autobiography, 
which evokes the grim backdrop of "Victorian knife-plunging Manchester" with 
relish, you know you are in good hands.
With characteristic pretension, Morrissey's first book has been published as a 
Penguin Classic, a move that has offended purists - something that, one 
suspects, was always part of his intention.
Morrissey carries off this audacious literary heist with a beautifully measured 
prose style that comhines a lilting, poetic turn of phrase and an acute quality 
of ohservation, revelling in a kind of morbid glee at life's injustices with 
arch, understated humour, a langllter that

harsh working class poverty and atrucious education, with only the warmth of a 
large Irish family as {inadequate) protection.
Mon'issey produces pungent passages on the useless brutality of sink schools, 
reminiscences of dejected teachers and tormented children, a cold burning
condenmation of a system where "'shame is cattle-prodded into ldds who are in 
pursuit of bliss amid the unrelenting disapproval".
Still, in the mi&st of this horror, Morrissey can be sharply amusing.
The ssn'npathy he gains sporting a bandage for a burn teaches him "all 1 shall 
ever need to know about attention and style". He demonstrates how depression 
and narcissism can be survival tactics, noting, in passing, that sadness is 
habit forming".
Music and television provided succour, and Morrissey writes illuminatingly 
about both, but the real revelation is how his fascination for poetry (picked 
up in libraries after school, waiting for his mother to collect him) helped him 
develop He seems to understand what makes him so fascinating as an artist and 
difficult as a human such a distinctive style, leading from the sharp couplets 
of Edward [,ear mad Hilalre Ballot to Dorothy Parker, Oscar Wilde, Stevie 
Smith, WH Auden and John Betjeman, "a monument to the sadness .of human wrtu .

is a shadow away from depression
lie quotes long passages of or anger. As such, it is rccognisably
favourite verses that could, with the _~ • . . . . - .
~ ddition of shimnae, ry guilar lines, the voice ~,t the most distractive
,l~.,~~th.~_. _.{ -.
;. ~.-,t-..o~°° 0--- .........


Sent from my iPhone

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