What matters is fixing the problem. And that can only be done by us.
No matter how to describe something, the reality of what it is remains what it is. I know this is probably a truism, and I sympathize with anyone who has become frustrated with words. The word pencil is not a pencil ...
One of the math texts I am ever so carefully and slowly going through has a few "journal exercises" at the end of each problem set that attempts to motivate the student to "write about mathematics." I was enthusiastic about this when I started out, but, do you know what? I have skipped each one so far! It is not that easy. Hence, the exercise.
I will try to be more careful while posting here, as I tend to unleash my confusion, using language as a way to express my frustration (with communication) rather than disciplining myself to "say what I mean and mean what I say."
The confusion arises when I am not so sure what it is I am trying to communicate other than my honest frustration.
In a haphazard and non-calculated manner, maybe this communication HAS been successful since, in more than a few correspondences, Holden and I, you and Holden, and now you and I, have placed right on the table for all to see our sincere doubt in the power of alphanumeric language to represent or communicate "reality".
This is not a bad thing, in my opinion. I think it is great that we have this "unwritten understanding" that our words are a finger pointing at the moon, and not the moon itself.
I see the idea of a Reptilian Predator in Charge as kind of useful, and it is certainly not far fetched to take for granted that "the masses" are hypnotized. After all, when one pecks at the ATM machine for cash, we are not that much different than domesticated fouls pecking a contraption for their feed. When we hand the cash over at the grocery store, or eliminate the ATM machine altogether, and just hand the cashier the debit card, we do so in a hypnotic manner.
We are dependent upon a gargantuan artifice for our sustenance, and we certainly don't have the confidence of a large wild cat in the jungle that finds its nourishment by teeth and claw.
In this most basic sense one may condemn oneself as a gort, but I think once one has rubbed one's eyes and taken a moment to reflect on the "Indian Reservations", the inner city projects (Village Ghetto Land), the factories, the prisons, the war machine, the extraction of natural resources, etc, one sees this, but one may continue to have a sense of powerlessness to actually do anything but groan in horror.
Welcome to the nightmare? Welcome to the Taker Prison?
It really has more to do with the behavior of the masses, and there is little one can do to stop this species from driving off the cliff into extinction. And all she wants to do is dance ... and all I want to do is study math ... hysterical.