Rubio's piece is about as good as pure-sophistry+logic can do.. with/to Language
(I wot)
Such IS the problem with (the-use/abuse) of Language, at its best. The root-problem with all Language-usage seems to be ~ the absence of a common-to-all [Referent] for the meaning(s) of each. word. Boolean logic--so handy within the pedestrian needs of transistor-junction flip-flops--is only peripherally related to--whether in support or denial of an issue--sweet Reason in her pretty-blue dress.
So then.. never shall there Be a fucking-algorithm which ~"guarantees the %Truth-iness" within a proposition (or a mugging).
The Words CAN kill. us. [All]. under all circumstances of ~Pearls-before-swine-Class argumentation. But sans a quorum of The Reason-"ABLE" within the melee ???
Well, you know: we're within a crap-shoot somewhat comparable to Henrik Wilem Van Loon's cute simile:
If you put all of humanity within a [then!] 1-mile-size cube, perfectly-balancing this at the very edge of the Grand Canyon: a little dog can push it over the brink with his nose.
Oops, methinks I feel a sniffle coming on ... is it Chi's little bio-present to the world? angst about the nearly-successfully-choreographed overall Extinction?
..or just some 'bad piece of meat' within last night's supper.
I remain a steadfast-Believer! And next I Believe I'll smash the piggy-bank so to obtain a (smallest size bottle) of some $$single-malt Elixir, to be placed in the anachronistic glove-box of the Tesla-S (or better) locomotion-device, scored via liquidation of most of the Stuff. We're all just watching the daily-Maya, here anyway; What? Me Worry against the metaHumor of the ineffable cosmos?
Such IS the problem with (the-use/abuse) of Language, at its best. The root-problem with all Language-usage seems to be ~ the absence of a common-to-all [Referent] for the meaning(s) of each. word. Boolean logic--so handy within the pedestrian needs of transistor-junction flip-flops--is only peripherally related to--whether in support or denial of an issue--sweet Reason in her pretty-blue dress.
So then.. never shall there Be a fucking-algorithm which ~"guarantees the %Truth-iness" within a proposition (or a mugging).
The Words CAN kill. us. [All]. under all circumstances of ~Pearls-before-swine-Class argumentation. But sans a quorum of The Reason-"ABLE" within the melee ???
Well, you know: we're within a crap-shoot somewhat comparable to Henrik Wilem Van Loon's cute simile:
If you put all of humanity within a [then!] 1-mile-size cube, perfectly-balancing this at the very edge of the Grand Canyon: a little dog can push it over the brink with his nose.
Oops, methinks I feel a sniffle coming on ... is it Chi's little bio-present to the world? angst about the nearly-successfully-choreographed overall Extinction?
..or just some 'bad piece of meat' within last night's supper.
I remain a steadfast-Believer! And next I Believe I'll smash the piggy-bank so to obtain a (smallest size bottle) of some $$single-malt Elixir, to be placed in the anachronistic glove-box of the Tesla-S (or better) locomotion-device, scored via liquidation of most of the Stuff. We're all just watching the daily-Maya, here anyway; What? Me Worry against the metaHumor of the ineffable cosmos?