The magics of cereal boxes

Sunday, 05 January, Year 12 d.Tr. | Author: Mircea Popescu

Discussion in the log brought something into focus. Do you perchance recall the discussion of how small children take tumbles ? How about the discussion of what hermeneutics even is ?

If you do, as if you don't : obviously all acts of interpretation, which necessarily include all reading, revolve around decoding signs into sense, symbols into whatever they signify... you're supposed to read the words but find their meaning and so following. How is that actually done ?

Depends by whom. Children, for instance, ain't got either the time or the resources for much reference lookup, look-ahead parsing or careful macroexpansion. Instead, they proceed in their usual fixed manner : here's a decoder ring they found in the cereal box, therefore everything will be an assembly-line-stamped flower-pattern to the child holding a plastic hammer.

This approach may even be good enough for a whole lifetime spent among the primitive (endonym : "traditional") hordes ; but over here in town children are supposed to intellectually mature past that point. It's a pons asinorum that should normally be cleared right around (though ideally before) sexual maturation. Such is the basic expectation civilised society runs on : that by the time the tits on her are anything like'd interest you, she's already solidly capable of decoding text with a decoder that's open to negotiation with the very text in question ; by the time she's about ripe enough to participate in adult conversation, she's also (and therefore) ripe enough to appreciate her breast being called dun for what it is : a conceit.i

Needless to say, most of the worldii stands very far from urban. Instead of anything like a city there's just endless fields still, today as five centuries ago ; and upon that endless field utterly uncivilised hordes of Joseph Smiths tarabostes all over, like bison exactly. Here, have an example :

There's no privacy interest in the dead ; yet fucking corpses is a crime.

What exactly could possibly be the crime, if indeed there's no privacy interest in the dead ?

Fixed systems interact with each other... "imperfectly", let's call it, though meaninglessly would probably be a better term. As a result the abstract downstream of a node was moved, to make way for socialism's ever-inflating needs of self-representation, while the concrete downstream was neglected in place. The result is illogical, and rationally indefensible, but then again that's why they call it "precedent" in the dead system, and that's why "community standards" have to be a basis.

Self-obviously the notional universe from which you inherited your corpse handling routines also included very similar protections for the abstract remains of the departed. Back in the day you're unwittingly copying, there was privacy interest in the dead, and in fact burial rites exist principally as a token for that interest. The logic of the time read along the lines of "so great is the privacy interest in the dead, we even go to the trouble of moving seven feet of earth : it's supposed to show how great that is by how inconsequential the great inconvenience of this is proposed to be." I expect you never dug a hole with your own hands, nor have much notion of just how damned heavy earth is ; but go, try. It'll round out your understanding of this world you supposedly live iniii.

Most first class abstractions floating about the brainbox of "people themselves" suffer from the same problem. From "traditional marriage" to "rape"iv, from "money" to "social mobility"... in fact you'd be hard pressed to find any abstract item that's not been well gummed over by redditards with magic decoder rings.

I shudder to think what Trilema must look like to one of those barbarians ; but I surmise it must very, very fucking scary indeed. Then again... I guess it should be.

  1. Not that this perfectly legitimate expectation is all that often satisfied. It isn't, the sadnesses abound, yet... what of it ? Failure has no effect, that's why it's called failure in the first place. []
  2. Lost among this "most", our hapless, meanwhile failed colonies across the water. []
  3. "Ioane, dragi-s fetele ?"
    "Dar tu lor ?"
    "Si ele mie!" []
  4. Literally "the harvesting of biomaterial without permission from the owner", somehow retconned into "inconveniencing a precious cuntlet's self-narratives". []
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