I did this twice with old LJ posts; once it told me I wrote like Nabokov, the other time like Orwell. My new memoir, Down and Out in Paris and Lolita, is being published later this year.
Back in the real world, I'm panickedly preparing for a conference tomorrow where I'm running one workshop (chairing a panel discussion, i.e. herding cats who are cleverer than me), timekeeping for another, and on the organising committee for the whole thing. I suspect that running through my notes for what I have to say in my workshop would be a better use of time than creating an .ics for the conference programme. On the other hand, I also know that if I was trapped on a desert island with nothing but the notes of a presentation I had to give the next day, I'd probably come to the conclusion that the grains of sand on the island really could do with counting.