🚀 go-pugleaf

No, GR, try, try again, or a few more times, though I'll be happy
to wait until after GOOKCITY.  Though the metaphor to quantum is
contrived, I'll loan it out to you (contrivances and cliches being
in the domain of mes yeux, n'est-ce pas?): but yet, you persist
with "building blocks", unwittedly sounding like a young Russell
(now, there, m'dear, was a TYPIST) before his lobe-splicing
accident.  No elements, all "as is" until something better-looking
whistles our way: nominalism with a kick, son, eating itself for
dinner (as, well, what else is there?) like the moon in the sky:
ALL UNDERSTANDING IS UNDERSTOOD AS METAPHORICAL, OVEREXTENDED, A
SLICE OF THE PIE, A PIE THEN THAT CANNOT BE HAD WITHOUT THE KNIFE
to slice it with, the plate to serve it on, the apron with which
to wipe your fingers barring the presence of one to lick the sticky
sweet substance from them, the waged-war labor which went in to
the constructivism (anyone seen Haines Brown?), the cockroach which
crawled into the sugar and died but was not extracted previously
from the mix, the digestive system which waits crouched to be
brought in to decon, the resultant excrement, the lawnchair in which
self sits pleased with placing it over the top of the anthill, the
PART THAT GOES UNEATEN AND GOES BAD IN THE IMPROPERLY FUNCTIONING
refrigerator which leaks harmful emissions which are damaging to
the ozone layer, the ozone layer which would not have been invented
were it not for the pie, and, of course, the extent of her feelings.


or so she said.