The function of a "unit cell" in the perception lattice

Old post, now archived thus.

--

Beginning from the quantification of perception, we see, hear and feel the objects around us. We understand animation, we derive motion, we negotiate shapes, and we respond to changes. There is nothing to philosophy if only for our ability to become opinionated and a sense of good and bad, whence we also derive judgment and the skills of decision-making. Just as we have left and right to orient us in the physical realm, we have problems and solutions to orient us in the mental realm.

A problem is perceived in its deviation from normality, and in the exposition of abnormality to alert us to one change in particular and in even greater specificity, its incompatibility with normality as we see it. Problems can arise in many forms - as many as we have come to perceive. It is the solution we come to, the one particular decision to alter things as they are and to set them in positions that would resemble in positions they were. We try to reinstate normality as it should be, devoid of anything erroneous, error-prone or error-causing and greatly limitable by one's own actions as they will be.

While walking on a straight road, the need to perceive a change in direction is responded to by taking a perpendicular turn at the most. The sense of left and right, henceforth, seem to more pronounced owing to the presence of an original path that now takes up the first slot in the history of the journey. While travelling on a straight road, without having to take any turns at any points of space and time, the journey consisted of an abode and destination separated by a distance consisting solely of linear displacements; in other words, there was a problem, and there was only one feasible solution.

But once you have taken a turn, say to the right, then you have an angularity associated with your journey: you have reoriented yourself, and analogously, you have altered your direction in favour of a new solution to the same problem. The presence of an original plays an important role in that it gives rise to comparative decision-making, and a variety of opinions with significant variations between them.

The traversal of a straight road gives rise to no such notions because of its inherent inability to deliver comparability. And this is where a theory of nothing, which is only a set of some questions that seem to answer themselves at first, is born. Man’s natural need to quantify the objects, changes and adaptations around him is only understandable. Only with quantification comes perception. This is because, at the most fundamental of levels, the changes around us are used to keep track of time. When an object moves from point A to point B, it marks a change of position and gives rise to displacement. Therefore, the quantification of the phenomena around us empowers us with the tool of recollection, which can be put to immense use when we use comparative decision-making.

The same problem may have given rise to multiple solutions, but when a problem with only one possible solution occurs repeatedly, the problem can be filed away as a one-time occurrence and the solutions that were used previously to tackle it can be thought of as multiple and, therefore, employed again. This concept, in its turn, brings us to the breakdown of time into logically similar categories. When you leave your home for work, the morning may be divided as:

1. You at home,


2. You while driving, and


3. You at work.

By the logical organization of time periods, alternatively ‘time spans’, you find a sense of progress. When the same tasks are performed on a fairly regular basis, the scenario transforms into a routine and the requirement of a logical categorization becomes suppressed by the commoditized grouping of these tasks into blocks characterized by the observation of relatively progressive changes in a parallel walk of life.

For example, when you work at the office, you perform the tasks assigned to you (as conforming to a division of labour). However, the progress is observed in your personal life when you earn money, and in your employer’s business, which seems to want you to work efficiently for it to profit from the collective efficiency. Subsequently, an instance of multiparallelism can be drawn out between all such cases of analogous systems.

In the said cases, quantification has been observed only because it was being looked for; what about when one desires quantification in some other region of perception but is unable to find it? Does that mean that what one perceives is nonexistent? That is absurd because the validity of my perception is then annulled!

In trying to come to terms with change and the relativity of existence itself, we have subconsciously but inevitably generated the need for quantification. But of course, the coexistent fundamentality of the very notion is an excuse enough and has, therefore, qualified itself as a positive sign of progress.

Our understanding of the people and social machinery around us only deepens our faith in the social pedestal upon which we stand, and thereby also increases our commitment to the understanding of other parallel phenomena. So, pre-quantification, we have change, orientation, progress, and some parameters with which we are enabled to measure them. If these parameters were to be absent one at a time, then the ease of quantification becomes reduced, but on the other hand, even the presence of one of these parameters at times becomes a cause for problem. It is the combination of them that may possess any expectations of standing true.

However, when something as abstract as any other fundamental elemental constituent of logic, like logic itself, is subjugated to the detection of such parameters and the establishment of quantified judgment becomes very complicated owing to logically overriding incompatibilities. Therefore, in dealing with such terms with immense applications in reasoning, we have to define the most fundamental of these terms such that those incompatibilities arising out of hierarchal disturbances in the logical structure of reasoning itself are not dealt with.

In other words, we have to define the smallest units of existence which posses the least amount of elemental reasonability and, therefore, can be parallelized to arrive at a logical conclusion to any statement or problem.

The function of a "unit cell" in the perception lattice

Old post, now archived thus.

--

Beginning from the quantification of perception, we see, hear and feel the objects around us. We understand animation, we derive motion, we negotiate shapes, and we respond to changes. There is nothing to philosophy if only for our ability to become opinionated and a sense of good and bad, whence we also derive judgment and the skills of decision-making. Just as we have left and right to orient us in the physical realm, we have problems and solutions to orient us in the mental realm.

A problem is perceived in its deviation from normality, and in the exposition of abnormality to alert us to one change in particular and in even greater specificity, its incompatibility with normality as we see it. Problems can arise in many forms - as many as we have come to perceive. It is the solution we come to, the one particular decision to alter things as they are and to set them in positions that would resemble in positions they were. We try to reinstate normality as it should be, devoid of anything erroneous, error-prone or error-causing and greatly limitable by one's own actions as they will be.

While walking on a straight road, the need to perceive a change in direction is responded to by taking a perpendicular turn at the most. The sense of left and right, henceforth, seem to more pronounced owing to the presence of an original path that now takes up the first slot in the history of the journey. While travelling on a straight road, without having to take any turns at any points of space and time, the journey consisted of an abode and destination separated by a distance consisting solely of linear displacements; in other words, there was a problem, and there was only one feasible solution.

But once you have taken a turn, say to the right, then you have an angularity associated with your journey: you have reoriented yourself, and analogously, you have altered your direction in favour of a new solution to the same problem. The presence of an original plays an important role in that it gives rise to comparative decision-making, and a variety of opinions with significant variations between them.

The traversal of a straight road gives rise to no such notions because of its inherent inability to deliver comparability. And this is where a theory of nothing, which is only a set of some questions that seem to answer themselves at first, is born. Man’s natural need to quantify the objects, changes and adaptations around him is only understandable. Only with quantification comes perception. This is because, at the most fundamental of levels, the changes around us are used to keep track of time. When an object moves from point A to point B, it marks a change of position and gives rise to displacement. Therefore, the quantification of the phenomena around us empowers us with the tool of recollection, which can be put to immense use when we use comparative decision-making.

The same problem may have given rise to multiple solutions, but when a problem with only one possible solution occurs repeatedly, the problem can be filed away as a one-time occurrence and the solutions that were used previously to tackle it can be thought of as multiple and, therefore, employed again. This concept, in its turn, brings us to the breakdown of time into logically similar categories. When you leave your home for work, the morning may be divided as:

1. You at home,


2. You while driving, and


3. You at work.

By the logical organization of time periods, alternatively ‘time spans’, you find a sense of progress. When the same tasks are performed on a fairly regular basis, the scenario transforms into a routine and the requirement of a logical categorization becomes suppressed by the commoditized grouping of these tasks into blocks characterized by the observation of relatively progressive changes in a parallel walk of life.

For example, when you work at the office, you perform the tasks assigned to you (as conforming to a division of labour). However, the progress is observed in your personal life when you earn money, and in your employer’s business, which seems to want you to work efficiently for it to profit from the collective efficiency. Subsequently, an instance of multiparallelism can be drawn out between all such cases of analogous systems.

In the said cases, quantification has been observed only because it was being looked for; what about when one desires quantification in some other region of perception but is unable to find it? Does that mean that what one perceives is nonexistent? That is absurd because the validity of my perception is then annulled!

In trying to come to terms with change and the relativity of existence itself, we have subconsciously but inevitably generated the need for quantification. But of course, the coexistent fundamentality of the very notion is an excuse enough and has, therefore, qualified itself as a positive sign of progress.

Our understanding of the people and social machinery around us only deepens our faith in the social pedestal upon which we stand, and thereby also increases our commitment to the understanding of other parallel phenomena. So, pre-quantification, we have change, orientation, progress, and some parameters with which we are enabled to measure them. If these parameters were to be absent one at a time, then the ease of quantification becomes reduced, but on the other hand, even the presence of one of these parameters at times becomes a cause for problem. It is the combination of them that may possess any expectations of standing true.

However, when something as abstract as any other fundamental elemental constituent of logic, like logic itself, is subjugated to the detection of such parameters and the establishment of quantified judgment becomes very complicated owing to logically overriding incompatibilities. Therefore, in dealing with such terms with immense applications in reasoning, we have to define the most fundamental of these terms such that those incompatibilities arising out of hierarchal disturbances in the logical structure of reasoning itself are not dealt with.

In other words, we have to define the smallest units of existence which posses the least amount of elemental reasonability and, therefore, can be parallelized to arrive at a logical conclusion to any statement or problem.

The function of a "unit cell" in the perception lattice

Old post, now archived thus.

--

Beginning from the quantification of perception, we see, hear and feel the objects around us. We understand animation, we derive motion, we negotiate shapes, and we respond to changes. There is nothing to philosophy if only for our ability to become opinionated and a sense of good and bad, whence we also derive judgment and the skills of decision-making. Just as we have left and right to orient us in the physical realm, we have problems and solutions to orient us in the mental realm.

A problem is perceived in its deviation from normality, and in the exposition of abnormality to alert us to one change in particular and in even greater specificity, its incompatibility with normality as we see it. Problems can arise in many forms - as many as we have come to perceive. It is the solution we come to, the one particular decision to alter things as they are and to set them in positions that would resemble in positions they were. We try to reinstate normality as it should be, devoid of anything erroneous, error-prone or error-causing and greatly limitable by one's own actions as they will be.

While walking on a straight road, the need to perceive a change in direction is responded to by taking a perpendicular turn at the most. The sense of left and right, henceforth, seem to more pronounced owing to the presence of an original path that now takes up the first slot in the history of the journey. While travelling on a straight road, without having to take any turns at any points of space and time, the journey consisted of an abode and destination separated by a distance consisting solely of linear displacements; in other words, there was a problem, and there was only one feasible solution.

But once you have taken a turn, say to the right, then you have an angularity associated with your journey: you have reoriented yourself, and analogously, you have altered your direction in favour of a new solution to the same problem. The presence of an original plays an important role in that it gives rise to comparative decision-making, and a variety of opinions with significant variations between them.

The traversal of a straight road gives rise to no such notions because of its inherent inability to deliver comparability. And this is where a theory of nothing, which is only a set of some questions that seem to answer themselves at first, is born. Man’s natural need to quantify the objects, changes and adaptations around him is only understandable. Only with quantification comes perception. This is because, at the most fundamental of levels, the changes around us are used to keep track of time. When an object moves from point A to point B, it marks a change of position and gives rise to displacement. Therefore, the quantification of the phenomena around us empowers us with the tool of recollection, which can be put to immense use when we use comparative decision-making.

The same problem may have given rise to multiple solutions, but when a problem with only one possible solution occurs repeatedly, the problem can be filed away as a one-time occurrence and the solutions that were used previously to tackle it can be thought of as multiple and, therefore, employed again. This concept, in its turn, brings us to the breakdown of time into logically similar categories. When you leave your home for work, the morning may be divided as:

1. You at home,


2. You while driving, and


3. You at work.

By the logical organization of time periods, alternatively ‘time spans’, you find a sense of progress. When the same tasks are performed on a fairly regular basis, the scenario transforms into a routine and the requirement of a logical categorization becomes suppressed by the commoditized grouping of these tasks into blocks characterized by the observation of relatively progressive changes in a parallel walk of life.

For example, when you work at the office, you perform the tasks assigned to you (as conforming to a division of labour). However, the progress is observed in your personal life when you earn money, and in your employer’s business, which seems to want you to work efficiently for it to profit from the collective efficiency. Subsequently, an instance of multiparallelism can be drawn out between all such cases of analogous systems.

In the said cases, quantification has been observed only because it was being looked for; what about when one desires quantification in some other region of perception but is unable to find it? Does that mean that what one perceives is nonexistent? That is absurd because the validity of my perception is then annulled!

In trying to come to terms with change and the relativity of existence itself, we have subconsciously but inevitably generated the need for quantification. But of course, the coexistent fundamentality of the very notion is an excuse enough and has, therefore, qualified itself as a positive sign of progress.

Our understanding of the people and social machinery around us only deepens our faith in the social pedestal upon which we stand, and thereby also increases our commitment to the understanding of other parallel phenomena. So, pre-quantification, we have change, orientation, progress, and some parameters with which we are enabled to measure them. If these parameters were to be absent one at a time, then the ease of quantification becomes reduced, but on the other hand, even the presence of one of these parameters at times becomes a cause for problem. It is the combination of them that may possess any expectations of standing true.

However, when something as abstract as any other fundamental elemental constituent of logic, like logic itself, is subjugated to the detection of such parameters and the establishment of quantified judgment becomes very complicated owing to logically overriding incompatibilities. Therefore, in dealing with such terms with immense applications in reasoning, we have to define the most fundamental of these terms such that those incompatibilities arising out of hierarchal disturbances in the logical structure of reasoning itself are not dealt with.

In other words, we have to define the smallest units of existence which posses the least amount of elemental reasonability and, therefore, can be parallelized to arrive at a logical conclusion to any statement or problem.

Philosophy and the scientific method

Philosophy's widely been called the classification of thoughts; although that seems like a simple definition, those requirements in place to ensure that it is also accessible to the principles of scientific enquiry make it a daunting and esoteric subject to pursue. While intriguing challenges central to the human nature are presented in no small numbers along the way, the latter quality has prevented it from embraced by the masses as another context within which to investigate the Universe.

At the core of the philosophical argument lies its ability to define principles—any principles—which are, in turn, what enable the classification of thoughts. Would that the Universe contained all of its information as a garble of colours and noise, the process of learning would've been substituted by the process of discovery entirely. However, the case has been demonstrably polar: there are patterns everywhere, patterns that show a remarkable similitude to each other in that they are all principled, in that they all display characteristics of endurance and not grant any incidents of epistemological construction the misfortune of stagnation as structures of the past.This is one of the foremost reasons that inquiry into these matters has proved crucial for social, economic and political progress irrespective of "germane concerns" such as ethnicity, culture or racial history.

In order to both discover and establish (or, recognise and understand) such a replicable ontology, an underlying experimental process is necessary that abides by the principles of scientific investigation and, essentially, empiricism so as to prevent the case of reductio ad absurdum as well as to be able to verify the credibility of any hypothesis without interfering with its functions.

Philosophy and the scientific method

Philosophy's widely been called the classification of thoughts; although that seems like a simple definition, those requirements in place to ensure that it is also accessible to the principles of scientific enquiry make it a daunting and esoteric subject to pursue. While intriguing challenges central to the human nature are presented in no small numbers along the way, the latter quality has prevented it from embraced by the masses as another context within which to investigate the Universe.

At the core of the philosophical argument lies its ability to define principles—any principles—which are, in turn, what enable the classification of thoughts. Would that the Universe contained all of its information as a garble of colours and noise, the process of learning would've been substituted by the process of discovery entirely. However, the case has been demonstrably polar: there are patterns everywhere, patterns that show a remarkable similitude to each other in that they are all principled, in that they all display characteristics of endurance and not grant any incidents of epistemological construction the misfortune of stagnation as structures of the past.This is one of the foremost reasons that inquiry into these matters has proved crucial for social, economic and political progress irrespective of "germane concerns" such as ethnicity, culture or racial history.

In order to both discover and establish (or, recognise and understand) such a replicable ontology, an underlying experimental process is necessary that abides by the principles of scientific investigation and, essentially, empiricism so as to prevent the case of reductio ad absurdum as well as to be able to verify the credibility of any hypothesis without interfering with its functions.

The handicap of the FI

Something is wrong with the fog index calculation formula.

FI = 0.4*((WPS) + 100*(N_C/N))

(FI, fog index; WPS, words per sentence; N_C, no. of complex words; N, total no. of words)

It denotes the number of years of formal English education (FEE) required to understand a particular text. Readers' Digest articles have an FI of 12 while texts that require near-universal understanding have an FI of 8 (to give you a picture).

How is it that a person with only 16 years of FEE as I can write with an FI reaching 60? In other words, how does 16 years of FEE for a writer seem sufficient to necessitate 60 years of FEE for a reader?

The conclusion seems easy if the parameter of "formal English education" is omitted from the consideration because, if excluded, the quality of an academic background could be held as a nullifier.

The formula seems to have only a strong empirical backing, but nothing in the way of dimensional analysis—in a metaphysical sense—seems to indicate that the proffered combination of variables is equitable to #FEE.

The handicap of the FI

Something is wrong with the fog index calculation formula.

FI = 0.4*((WPS) + 100*(N_C/N))

(FI, fog index; WPS, words per sentence; N_C, no. of complex words; N, total no. of words)

It denotes the number of years of formal English education (FEE) required to understand a particular text. Readers' Digest articles have an FI of 12 while texts that require near-universal understanding have an FI of 8 (to give you a picture).

How is it that a person with only 16 years of FEE as I can write with an FI reaching 60? In other words, how does 16 years of FEE for a writer seem sufficient to necessitate 60 years of FEE for a reader?

The conclusion seems easy if the parameter of "formal English education" is omitted from the consideration because, if excluded, the quality of an academic background could be held as a nullifier.

The formula seems to have only a strong empirical backing, but nothing in the way of dimensional analysis—in a metaphysical sense—seems to indicate that the proffered combination of variables is equitable to #FEE.

A reevaluation of (two kinds of) relationships

First kind

Last night, I had a weird set of emotions flowing through me - weird only because they were new, not because I thought they were wrong. First, I shared with T???? the short passage I'd written with 83 Ms. Perhaps it was me hoping to strongly that she would remark (directly) upon how it compared to V's monologue from the movie 'V for Vendetta'. Now that I think about it, T???? may have only been the usual inappropriately-unpredictable bitch she usually is, but I don't care: her response drove me wild. I hope it stays that way, too.

I don't know if I look like a merry-go-round on legs to some people, but I've had it. Some people are not worth it irrespective of how much I might need them. Be it M?, P????? and A????? for what they know about me, be it T???? for whatever I may have needed her for, be it anyone: I've realized that I've been a top-order fool to let myself be cowed down by my need to please others. More than the realization, more than the decision to "turn over a new leaf", what's important is that I continue to understand why it's important to feel that way, to live that way.

Second kind

That, in turn, prompts me to think how honest I've been with my diary, how honest I will be. I who write this diary – is that "I" different from I who embrace the reality, the interpretations of the interactions with which fills up the diary? A day ago, since when the questions have been lounging in the back of my mind, I had this fleeting vision of three layers of existence that I may interact through with reality (at least as I perceive it): the Outermost layer, which is composed of all sorts of spontaneous activities that I must perform, do perform, with any or little reflection; the Middle layer, which is composed of elements such as honesty, reliability and punctuality, amongst others – those entities whose evaluation for the sake of the self involves a comparison against past precedents (or, those entities that exhibit hysteresis by way of being 'path-dependent'); the Innermost layer, which constitutes (and is not composed of) the basal emotions such as joy, sorrow, anger, jealousy, etc. – those emotions that are directly influenced by variations in the quantity and quality of the spontaneous activities.

Why then don't I place these emotions in the Middle layer? Because the constituents of the Middle layer influence my immediate responses to the spontaneous activities; it is the case of an extended cause-effect linkage. Just as in thermodynamics, where there are mass-dependent (extrinsic) and mass-independent (intrinsic) properties, in this structure of the psyche, there is the segregation of response-inducers (RIs) into low performance-dependency (LPD) responses and high performance-dependency (HPD) responses. The LPD responses are actuated by our "sense of the self" in the Middle layer and the HPD responses are actuated by our "sense of the self" in the Innermost layer.

The LPD responses that contribute greatly to the formation of my long-term goals are less easily influenced by day-to-day activities (likewise for HPD) and their subjugation in favour of the HPD responses has kept me happy, etc., on a day-to-day basis but has taken me nowhere I want to be in the longer run. Further (?!), I need to be reliable unto myself first, punctual unto myself first, honest unto myself first, and so forth.

And, to answer the question first asked, this blog (transcripted), I hope, remains both immanent to each layer and transcendental.

A reevaluation of (two kinds of) relationships

First kind

Last night, I had a weird set of emotions flowing through me - weird only because they were new, not because I thought they were wrong. First, I shared with T???? the short passage I'd written with 83 Ms. Perhaps it was me hoping to strongly that she would remark (directly) upon how it compared to V's monologue from the movie 'V for Vendetta'. Now that I think about it, T???? may have only been the usual inappropriately-unpredictable bitch she usually is, but I don't care: her response drove me wild. I hope it stays that way, too.

I don't know if I look like a merry-go-round on legs to some people, but I've had it. Some people are not worth it irrespective of how much I might need them. Be it M?, P????? and A????? for what they know about me, be it T???? for whatever I may have needed her for, be it anyone: I've realized that I've been a top-order fool to let myself be cowed down by my need to please others. More than the realization, more than the decision to "turn over a new leaf", what's important is that I continue to understand why it's important to feel that way, to live that way.

Second kind

That, in turn, prompts me to think how honest I've been with my diary, how honest I will be. I who write this diary – is that "I" different from I who embrace the reality, the interpretations of the interactions with which fills up the diary? A day ago, since when the questions have been lounging in the back of my mind, I had this fleeting vision of three layers of existence that I may interact through with reality (at least as I perceive it): the Outermost layer, which is composed of all sorts of spontaneous activities that I must perform, do perform, with any or little reflection; the Middle layer, which is composed of elements such as honesty, reliability and punctuality, amongst others – those entities whose evaluation for the sake of the self involves a comparison against past precedents (or, those entities that exhibit hysteresis by way of being 'path-dependent'); the Innermost layer, which constitutes (and is not composed of) the basal emotions such as joy, sorrow, anger, jealousy, etc. – those emotions that are directly influenced by variations in the quantity and quality of the spontaneous activities.

Why then don't I place these emotions in the Middle layer? Because the constituents of the Middle layer influence my immediate responses to the spontaneous activities; it is the case of an extended cause-effect linkage. Just as in thermodynamics, where there are mass-dependent (extrinsic) and mass-independent (intrinsic) properties, in this structure of the psyche, there is the segregation of response-inducers (RIs) into low performance-dependency (LPD) responses and high performance-dependency (HPD) responses. The LPD responses are actuated by our "sense of the self" in the Middle layer and the HPD responses are actuated by our "sense of the self" in the Innermost layer.

The LPD responses that contribute greatly to the formation of my long-term goals are less easily influenced by day-to-day activities (likewise for HPD) and their subjugation in favour of the HPD responses has kept me happy, etc., on a day-to-day basis but has taken me nowhere I want to be in the longer run. Further (?!), I need to be reliable unto myself first, punctual unto myself first, honest unto myself first, and so forth.

And, to answer the question first asked, this blog (transcripted), I hope, remains both immanent to each layer and transcendental.

Why A Language Resembles Physics So Much

Here's why a language is like physics. It's common knowledge that both of them help us understand the world: physics is a study of the physical word, a methodological inspection of every phenomenon we encounter, every experience we are affected by; language is tool of conveyance, and the passenger borne is meaning, and so by speaking in a language, we are only trapping the meaning of out thoughts in words and setting them afloat in a sea of communication. However, the world of physics is split into two distinct factions: the wave theorists' and the particle theorists' factions. How does this bode for language?

[caption id="" align="alignright" width="300" caption="Particle detection in a cloud chamber"][/caption]

The particle theorists see the world as being composed of discrete packets of energy that are, all of them, bound inexcusably by the law of conservation of energy and all the laws of thermodynamics. The wave theorists see the world as being seated on manifestations of energy being propagated as a continuous wave; in other words, the discretion as particles is discredited even though the law of conservation of energy and the laws of thermodynamics still hold.

Amongst particle theorists, all the energy that is present in this universe is a constitution of a very large number of packets, each of which contains a definite amount of energy that is unchanging over time. If a space contains twice as much energy as another, it does not mean the packets are twice as voluminous, it only means there are twice as many such packets. When we look out into this universe, all that we understand or all that there is to be understood at all can be done so if only there is an "amount" of meaning attached to it. Our interaction with this meaning is possible only through a tool that allows us to exchange meaning in the process - a tool like a word. A word can be said to contain a discrete amount of meaning. Even though different people may see it to be different amounts, the innate value of that meaning does not change over time. The adjective "beautiful" ascribes different amounts of beauty according to different people, and to each person therein, the amount of beauty the word describes is the same. However, "beautiful" never does come to ascribe ugliness to an object - apart from signifying its absence.

Words are discrete, like particles of meaning being strung together to create a large volume of meaning called a sentence. Sentences are then strung together to create a larger concatenation of meaning: it could be multi-dimensional, too, because a paragraph might discuss the properties of different objects through different adjectives and, in the process, create an array of meaning, so to speak. Now, if we were to zoom out to view the bigger picture, what we see is a language: there are grammatical rules that are the thermodynamic tyrants of communication, and then there are various other principles and theories that lay down how meaning is generated as well as understood - the "laws of conservation of meaning".

Even though we have described words to be discrete capsules that contain a set amount of meaning, it doesn't mean that the language as such prevents us from ascribing some amount of meaning to the gaps between these particles. Between one word and another, there is a boundary that prevents the spillage of any semantic entity, a boundary that holds it within a space in the confines of which it exists and can be understood. At the same time, with the combination of words, we create a "wave" of meaning that is present everywhere - even unto where "beautiful" and "pulchritudinous" can't reach, thereunto does "of a winsome exquisiteness surpassing the glow of a young star".