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
(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 ys 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 <=> ExAyy ^ Sxy).