the

words for the wisdom
are that this is

passive agression
and when the feelings of some

*x* equal

*y*,

what gets expressed should be more than

Ø.

(or,

as the pragmatic say, nothing)

but the formula is

unsatisfiable in this

universe
and

*y* is false

and there is no

function
reaching out from

the set containing *x*.

simpler to say

that nothing functions.

and so the silent

*f(x)*
sullies the air with pent-up rage and..

there just isn't any point in trying for a

solution.

possible

*y*s appear as mirages,

revealed to be

dirty little recursive functions
where every new parentheses is the unburied handle

of a hatchet that will complicate things for

infinite values of

*t* to come,

tripping up the

relationship
whenever anyone or anything needs make reference to

*y*. (

*why*?)

there exists some *x* such that

for all values of *y*, ¬

*y*,

*x* says

*y* <=> E

*x*A

*y*(¬

*y* ^ S

*xy*).