The Cheese Dip contribution to a Theory of Meaning

A Pale Buddliea

  I think the current kurfuffle of lies and  pearl clutching in the often supercilious AI community of almost people might be another splendid example of yet another victory for the flesh and blood understanding of language that wants to define language as an expression in us tool makers as an expression that emerges from a quantum wave that is the universal field of consciousness - not a device that carves meaning off meanings but blooms gently from the whole cloth of our slope in a random place, where that sound you hear is the motive that drives the mystery of movement still laughing at us. 

 The word supercilious is really a very fine example of the capacity of language to engage symbols with purpose as well as nonsense, a tangential relationship to reality, not so much a matrix of meaning but a cheese dip of meaning. Put a toothpick into an unidentifiable but tasty looking morcel stick into a bowl of molten cheese and you have an edible flavoured by meaning. Very Swiss.

 Super, from the Latin, means above. Cilium, from the Latin, means eyelid. I find it perfect, in both sound and in meaning, a perfect prelude to a Philosophy of answerlessness that joyously declares certainty as so much bullcrap.

"Another rain day I guess."

"Shut up!"

"How are the cats?"

"A little nervous of Schrödinger turning up."

“Schrödinger with his bloody box! The ultimate party crasher for the front-row accountants, Comrade. My masters absolutely dread him turning up on the lane. Their whole theology of the management matrix depends on the world being settled—pre-calculated, indexed, and sitting quietly in a row like canned peas on an Amazon shelf ......"

 "Let's try to avoid dwelling on the Moral Injury of Amazon."

 "They want to know exactly how many tokens are in the repository, exactly what the yield on the Blue Lakes will be, and exactly when the worker’s motivation will dip on a Thursday afternoon as they raise their supercilious eyelids to assure us that reality is a fixed ledger. And then Schrödinger arrives at the gate, swinging that old box by the handle, and reminds them that until the meat actually drops the spade into the dirt, the universe is a completely un-enclosed wave of probability."

 "Warms the cockles!"