Riddle: My author's uncertain yet my title's the same, I contain random text yet order's my aim. Read me one day and see my pages are totally bare. Try again another day and the words will be there. I'm not a book of magic although it may sound, I can predict the future, and inside, your life can be found. Move my eye, I become involved in lactic extraction. But that's just a clue, a minor distraction.
What am I?