Is language an emergent property of materiality?

If this were the case, there would be a material world without language, and in this world there
would necessarily be no communication between or among things. As communication is the
transmission of information from one thing to another, information would be static and — as the
gain or loss of information necessitates a change in form — there could thus be no change. In
this unchanging world, everything would be exactly as it always had been; this world would be,
of necessity, eternally constant.

Such a world would necessarily have a fixed bound, as an eternally unchanging world could
neither expand nor diminish. Yet, as a fixed bound is necessarily bounded, and this bound must
in turn be bounded, the succession of bounds beyond this fixed bound would expand
indefinitely, into and out of this world, thereby contradicting its eternal constancy.

As there must be an indefinite succession of bounds, each bound in this succession beyond the
initial fixed bound must have no dimension; otherwise the world will necessarily change.
Dimensionless things, however, exist only in concept, and cannot be attributed to any material
world. Thus, these perpetually proliferating bounds cannot be material.

Though the succession of dimensionless, immaterial outer bounds keeps this static material
world from expanding, the succession of such inner bounds pervades the static material world
with an infinity of immateriality. Thus does this static material world necessarily contain an
infinite density of immateriality, and so cannot be said to be exclusively material.

In addition, any given thing in this world, as with any thing in any world, must have properties —
particularly, the properties of being static, immaterial, and belonging to a world which also has
these properties. Yet, any given thing, and thus by necessity material things, is perpetually
ascribed properties; and so, on this basis, these static, material things, by nature of their having
properties, are perpetually changing.

Hence, a static, material world cannot exist, as it must be concluded, on the basis of its
constancy and materiality, that it is dynamic and immaterial.

As perpetual constancy is necessary to a material world without language, and perpetual

constancy cannot be a property of any material world, no material world can exist without
language. Language is a necessary condition for the existence of material things.

It could be countered, however, that language cannot be used to analyze a world without
language. If such a world is assumed, analysis must be conducted within the constraints of this
world, and so language and thought must both be eschewed. The agent trying to understand
this world must thus be purely material, and cannot rely on any form of communication or
cognition in conducting its analysis. It would then be necessary for this agent to discover a
means of comprehending this world which is itself accessible through language; and yet such a
means would be, under the assumption that the material world is inaccessible through
non-material means, necessarily material, and so, again under this assumption, inaccessible
through language. It would in any case be so that any theory which asserts the emergence of
language and cognition from pure materiality could not exist as such, considering — as nothing
can be asserted without language — it assumes that which it seeks to derive.

Such a world, hence, is not comprehensible, and so cannot be considered among the
observations of any agent which uses language or concept to understand. It must, then, lie
outside the realm of inquiry of any such agent.

Regardless of any of these considerations, it is not possible for language to emerge from pure
materiality. Without language, there can be no communication; without communication, there
can be no change — and a purely material world incapable of change cannot have within it
anything which isn’t purely material. Under these conditions, how could language emerge?
This goes also for any world consisting purely of non-linguistic things.

In any world in which language exists, it is fundamental to this world.

If language is fundamental to any world in which it exists, and language is the exchange of
information between or among non-linguistic things, then are information or non-linguistic things
not fundamental to this world?

Suppose non-linguistic things were fundamental. In this case, there would initially be only
non-linguistic things, and so, without language, they could not exchange information and thus
could not change. If they could not change, how could anything be derived from them (as
having and not having been a source of derivation are different states)? If nothing could be
derived from them, they could be fundamental to nothing. Hence, non-linguistic things cannot
be fundamental.

Then information must be fundamental. If information is fundamental to language, then it exists

without the possibility of being exchanged; and would, in this case, exist much as the
fundamental non-linguistic things — incapable of change. Information is thus just a microcosm
of the nonlinguistic thing: if it exists without language, language cannot possibly arise from it.

Hence, though both information and nonlinguistic things can exist independently of language,
they cannot be fundamental to it. All of language, non-linguistic things, and information must be
assumed; all else can be derived from these. Without language, things and information cannot
change; without information, things can have no properties; without things, information cannot
exist.

But is information not a non-linguistic thing? Hence, language and things are fundamental.

Can there be material properties?

If there were material properties, then such a property could be common to only one thing, as,
even if this material property was identical to another similar material property in all other
respects, it would have to differ in the sense that it is not the same material thing. In this
interpretation, properties would not be instantiations of general categories but unique
components of material things, and so material things could not be classified or categorized
because they would have to be considered as unique. Hence, material things can only have
common properties in an immaterial sense, and a material property, as such, cannot be an
instantiation of an immaterial property.

If a material property exists, then, it exists independently of any immaterial property. In this
case, such general properties as colors, shape, weight, size, and so forth cannot be attributed to
material things. It could not even be asserted, for instance, that the various material properties
of a thing belong to this thing, as this would be to characterize each of these properties as
common to this thing and so unify them under a general category.

Material properties, thus, cannot be considered properties, as they cannot be used to describe
or define a thing.

Hence, if a material thing has properties, these properties are immaterial.

Is either of materiality or immateriality fundamental to the other, or is their relationship cyclic?

Though the attribute of materiality is conceptual (and thus immaterial), the things to which it is
attributed are not. Such things are thus material in their existence but immaterial in their
attribution. Yet a thing is its attributes; and thus this material thing is in essence immaterial (a
thing’s essence in this context being equivalent to its properties). Hence, if a thing is material, it
must be immaterial, and so immateriality is a necessary condition of materiality — materiality is
derived from, and so must have as its fundament, immateriality.

An immaterial thing, on the contrary, is immaterial in both its existence and attribution; there is
nothing material which can be ascribed to such a thing (though one could speculate that a
material thing gives rise to this thing, this could never be ascertained). Hence, materiality
implies immateriality, but not conversely, and so their relationship is not cyclic.

Hence, immateriality is fundamental to materiality — material things cannot exist without

immaterial things existing first.

Immateriality precedes materiality. Do material things exist at all?

A material thing exists because it has structure. A certain order pervades its (immaterial)
properties, and it is their unique combination which imbues the material thing with identity. Yet
within any bound, order cannot exist. Thus there are no material things. The perception of
them arises, and in fact perception itself, because without order, anything is permitted — and so
the perception of material things.
Immateriality precedes a nullity. Is immateriality itself void?

This argument is the same as the above. A thing exists only on the basis of its structure.
Without structure — without order — no thing can exist.

Nothing exists.

Within the realm of immateriality, which is precedent: language or concept?

If language is the exchange of things between or among other things, then language cannot
exist without things. If concept existed without language, it could not change or evolve, and so
whichever concepts existed at any given moment would be the only possible concepts. Yet, a
concept must conceive something — either a material or immaterial thing. If it conceives a
material thing, and a thing is identical with its necessarily immaterial properties, then it
conceives an immaterial thing. Thus a concept must conceive another concept (as language
has been assumed absent); and so, for any concept, there must be another concept which is
the object of this concept’s conception. In this way is there a closed system of concepts which
can conceive only concepts, and such concepts must be perpetually changing. Any concept in
this system conceives a concept, whether itself (assuming this is possible) or another; that
which it conceives, in turn, must also conceive something — and thus the process of conception
is perpetual. A concept, then, must be considered as constantly changing, which is not possible
without language. Hence, just as language cannot exist without concept, concept cannot exist
without language. Language is the structure of concept; concept is the content of language.

Concept and language are necessary conditions for existence; without them nothing could exist
at all. In any theory of things, both must be assumed.

Are a thing and its properties equivalent; or is there another thing which, in addition to a thing’s
properties, determines the identity of the thing?

Denote P as the total properties of a given thing T. The other thing T 1 which is external to T yet
in part determines its identity must, as a thing, have a property: that is, the property of
supplementing P to determine the identity of T. It is thus the case that P and T 1 are together
equivalent to T.

Hence, T1 is not external to T and so must be considered as among its properties; in other
words, T1 is a property of T.

It is thus the case that a thing is determined entirely by its properties. There is nothing outside
of these which can determine the thing’s identity.

Consider the property of having every possible property. Whatever has this property must then
have every possible property, and so cannot have the property of not having every possible
property. A thing with this property thus has every possible property and yet there is a property
which this thing cannot have. Hence does a thing with every possible property not have every
possible property. Such a thing, therefore, cannot exist.

Can a thing have no properties?

Assume a thing has. If it has no properties, it has the property of having no properties, and
hence has a property. Thus, if a thing has no properties, it must have a property Hence, a thing
must have a property.

Hence, no thing has no property — nothing has no property.

Can a nonexistent thing have a property?

If a thing does not exist, it is not a thing. Hence, it is nothing, and nothing has no properties.

A thing must have a property; but can a thing have infinitely many properties?

If a thing has a property, it has the property of having this property. If it has the property of
having this property, it has the property of having the property of having this property. This
attribution as such cannot end — the process of attribution is necessarily indefinite. Hence,
things not only can have infinitely many properties; they must.

Nothing is no thing.

Can there be only one thing?

As all things have a property, if there is one thing, there is also the property of this thing. Hence,
if one thing exists, more than one thing exists. It is therefore impossible for only one thing to
exist.

Is anything possible?

If anything were possible, then it would be possible that something is impossible. Hence,
something is not possible.

Can there be a totality of facts?

Denote F as the totality of facts, or statements which are the case. Thus, anything outside of F
is not the case. Those statements which are or are not the case constitute all possible
statements.

Consider the following statement, which can be denoted as S: This statement does not belong
to F. If it is true, it both is the case and yet does not belong to F; if it is false, it both belongs to F
and yet is not the case. As belonging to F is equivalent to being the case and not belonging to
F is equivalent to not being the case, these statements can be rewritten as follows: S is the
case and does not belong to F, or it is the case and does not belong to F. This can be simplified
to give the following: S is the case and does not belong to F.

Hence, there is a fact which does not belong to F. As F is the totality of facts, it is necessary to
conclude that F cannot be the totality of facts. It has been assumed that there can be a totality
of facts, and yet this assumption implies that there cannot.

There can be no totality of facts.

Is a statement which denies its own truth true or false?

Such a statement (S) is false if it is true and true if it is false.

Hence:
If S is true, then S is false
and
if S is false, then S is true.

As an implication is only false if its antecedent is true and its consequent false, then the
disjunction
(not antecedent) or (consequent)
must have the same truth values as
if (antecedent), then (consequent)
for any statements (antecedent) and (consequent);
hence:
S is not true or S is false
and
S is not false or S is true;
and so
S is false or S is false
and
S is true or S is true.
In other words, S is false and S is true.

Hence, the sentence which denies its own truth is both true and false.

Note: If a sentence is not true, then it is false or it is meaningless. Similarly, if a sentence is not
false, then it is true or it is meaningless. Hence, the actual conclusion of the above argument is
that S is both true and false or it is meaningless.

If there cannot be a totality of either properties or facts, can there at least be a totality of things?
Assume such a totality exists, and denote it by T. T itself must be a thing, yet, if T contains
itself, there is something outside of T: that is, T. T, though, is the totality of things, and so there
can be nothing outside of T. Hence, T cannot exist.

There can be no totality of things, infinite or otherwise. There must be, then, an infinity of
infinities, which is itself part of an infinity — to infinity.

If there can be no totality of things, even if this totality contains an infinity of things, any infinity
must have things which it does not include.

Thus, there can be no all-inclusive infinity.

There is no such thing as everything, but everything and one more.

The reason there are infinitely many numbers is the same as that for there being infinitely many
statements, though neither is a condition of the other. This reason is the general principle of
incompleteness.

To understand a thing, its essence must first be understood. To understand its essence, the
essence of its essence must be understood. Hence, understanding is impossible.

Is there a fundamental cause; or, a cause which is precedent to all other causes?

Assume there is such a cause. Then there are two possibilities: this cause itself has a cause,
or it emerged from nothing. If it has a cause, it cannot be precedent to all other causes. Hence,
it must have emerged from nothing.

Nothing is the fundamental cause.

Similarly, nothing is the fundamental essence.

Note: There is a prevailing idea that an eternal unity exists which is the cause of all phenomena
and yet itself has no cause. This idea, if tenable, would add another possibility to the above
argument. It seems artificial to presume such an exception to cause and effect; to select a
single entity as the ultimate cause must be arbitrarily done.
Suppose anyway that this eternal unity exists. It is eternal, and so nothing can precede or
follow it. Hence, it cannot be a member of a causal chain. If it cannot be a member of a causal
chain, it can be neither cause nor effect. If it cannot be a cause, there is no effect which can be
caused by it. Hence, if such a unity exists, it exists alone.

Are there cause and effect?

Cause and effect are mutually extant; one cannot exist without the other. If one is shown not to
exist, the other must be assumed nonexistent.
If an effect exists, it must have a cause; and further, its cause is not only this presumed cause,
but the entire chain of causality leading up to and including this cause. This chain must itself
have a cause — nothing. As causality, if extant, is transitive, the original cause in any causal
chain is the cause of any effect in this chain. Hence, for any given effect, its cause is nothing.

There are no causes, and thus there are no effects.

Everything is random.

Note: If an event or object causes another, it changes: before, it is the event or object which
has not yet caused this other; afterwards, it is the event which has. Therefore, the event or
object, though nominally the same before and after the causal event, is annihilated the moment
it becomes this such cause (as a thing is its properties, if at least one of its properties changes,
the thing is no longer itself, but something else; there is no “transformation”, but the annihilation
of one object and the random emergence of something similar to the previously existing object
in all of its properties but one), and so it is not correct to say that this event or object, as it stood,
caused this other thing. And yet that which this event becomes after the causal event also
cannot be the cause of this other thing, as to be so it would have had to exist before this other
thing was caused — an impossibility, as this apparently similar entity cannot have come into
existence until the moment it caused this other thing, and if two phenomena are concurrently
caused, how can one have caused the other, if all causes must precede their effects? Thus
there is the following implication: if an event or object is the cause of another, this event or
object cannot exist. In other words, no causes can exist, ephemeral or eternal.
In short, because an effect cannot exist until the moment it is caused, and a cause cannot exist
until the moment it causes, and because, for any cause and effect with a causal relation
between them, the moment the cause causes the effect and the moment the effect is caused by
the cause are identical, any cause and its effect arise concurrently, and yet precedence is
fundamental to the concept of cause and effect. Hence, there are two possibilities: precedence
and concurrence are identical, or causality itself is invalid.
Precedence, in the abstract sense, refers to the order of a sequence (not necessarily temporal).
Hence, if an object precedes another, the two objects occupy different positions in the
sequence; and if they are concurrent, they occupy the same position, and so (as positions in
any sequence are unique) they are the same object. If, then, precedence and concurrence are
identical, no sequence can have more than one object element, and so all objects existing in
any sequence must be identical. In other words, any object which bears any type of relation to
any others must be identical to these others (if objects A 1 … A n belong to a given sequence,
then the following sentence is true: A 1, … , A n belong to the given sequence; thus, there is a
sentential function with n free variables, which is the general form of an n-ary relation holding
among any objects satisfying this function. Hence does membership in a sequence determine a
particular relation among the items of this sequence.) This, however, is only another way of
expressing that nothing can be composed, and so asserts the existence of an indivisible
singularity, which, due to its being incomposite and yet composed of attributes, is invalid.
Hence, causality is invalid.
Is everything predetermined?

Suppose everything is predetermined. Everything is but a class of things (all things), which in
this case has been assigned the property of predetermination. If this class is itself
predetermined, it belongs to itself, and so there is a class outside of this class — itself — which
is thus not predetermined.

OR

If everything is predetermined, then, everything being the class of (all) things which are
predetermined, predetermination is ascribed to this class. Yet, this class cannot exist. Hence,
there can be no such class, with any property, and so there can be no such class of
predetermined things. Nothing applies to everything.

Hence, there are things which are not predetermined.

When one speaks of a thing being predetermined, one speaks implicitly of its existence being
predetermined. Yet the existence of a thing is an event (or state), and so the above
formulations are not quite precise. One must apply the above mode of argument, not to the
class of all things, but to the class of all events. Can a class of all events exist, or will there
always be, as with properties, facts, and things, an event which lay outside of any given such
class?

The class of all events contains all possible events, and so no event can occur which does not
belong to this class. Thus, once this class is constructed, no other events can occur (as any
such event would necessarily lie outside of this class, having been excluded from the class of all
events).

In order to consider such a class, it must first have been constructed. Its consideration, in other
words, must follow its construction. This consideration, then, cannot belong to this class, as it
must occur after it has been constructed, and yet it is undoubtedly an event. Hence, there is an
event which does not belong to the class of all events, and so this class cannot exist.

Now suppose all events (or states) are predetermined. Then the class of all events is also the
class of all events which are predetermined. Any event lying outside of this class is therefore
random. There is, as was shown, such an event. It is thus necessarily the case that a random
event can occur, and so predetermination, if it applies to any event at all, is not absolute.

Note: To consider a thing is different than to conceive it. Conception precedes construction,
and would as such belong to the class of all events. Consideration (used here as a synonym of
“processing” or “working with”), contrarily, cannot occur but after the object of consideration has
been fully realized. One cannot work with a mere conception, hazy and incomplete as it must
be; but only with the fully realized object which was first conceptualized, then constructed. Only
after the construction, or realization, of a concept can problems concerning it be postulated and
resolved.
This class could also be conceptualized after its construction, which would be an event distinct
from its conceptualization beforeso; in fact any event involving this class occurring after its
construction would lie outside of this class, and so be random. Many examples could be used.
The important point is that the construction and existence of such a class would necessitate the
final and permanent cessation of all events; nothing could occur subsequent to this construction,
and so it requires the demonstration of but a single event subsequent to this construction to
show that this construction is not possible.

Those who assume a highest-order, eternal unity of interrelated objects contradict themselves.
If such a unity existed, the change of just one of its component objects would necessitate a
change in all of its component objects (as all objects of this unity are interrelated). The unity
itself would then change, becoming a different thing; it cannot be eternal, then, but must be
constantly changing. This would necessarily be the case, unless all of its parts were also
eternal and unchanging, but then how could it be the cause of anything? Nothing can be a
casual consequence of something incapable of change.

Note: A common error in metaphysical reasoning is the assumption that an object is

“essentially” the same after one or more of its properties has been lost or replaced. Such an
essence cannot be determined, for at which point does the object cease to be itself? If all of its
properties are annihilated, the object is annihilated, yet if only one of its properties is annihilated,
an object distinct from this original is created, though the original is itself annihilated. To
assume a certain set of its properties as essential is entirely arbitrary and cannot be justified by
any means. If properties A, B, and C determine the object, then the object is A, B, and C; if
another property D is added, a new object emerges, identified by A, B, C, and D. An object is
its properties; if any of these changes, the object is no longer itself. To assume that the object
identified by A, B, C, and D is the same as that identified by A, B, and C, but slightly modified;
and so to assume that A, B, and C are together the essence of the original thing, is an arbitrary
judgement which cannot be objectively affirmed. The tendency to identify an object consistently
through change is a mistake born of nominalization, and a habit of misperception.
Hence, any eternal thing must be entirely static. If even a single of its constituents changes, it
has been annihilated, and as such is not eternal. Thus, if it becomes the cause of another
object or event, it has assumed a new property: that of being the cause of this object or event
(which implies the loss of its former property: that of not being the cause of this object or event)
— and in this way has the “eternal” object ceased to exist. How, then, can it be considered
eternal?
Hence, any claims of an eternal unity being the cause of anything are invalid.

There is an old Greek philosophical puzzle, called “The Ship of Theseus”, which seeks to
determine whether a ship, if all of its parts are replaced, is the same ship. The problem, or
rather its solution, is central to the concept of essence. Those who say it is the same ship
assume a certain essence belonging to this particular ship, for instance its shape, weight, size,
color, and so on. Yet if these particular properties, instantiated in a particular way, determine the
ship’s essence, then any ship built according to the same parameters would have to be
considered identical to the original ship. This mistake is due to a disregard of certain of the
ship’s properties, namely those which are not tangible or immediately perceptible. Such
properties include its having been modified, having existed through a given time interval, among
others. The ship not only changes if it has been modified — for in this case it changed from
being the ship which had remained unmodified from its original build to that which has not — but
even by nature of its having existed in different moments in time. All things exist within a
broader context, and so its properties must include any relations it has thereto. Any changes,
however minute, within this broader context which affect the thing, must then modify the set of
properties it possesses — in other words, they must change the thing itself. Thus, if the ship is
taken out to sea and then returned, it returns a different ship.

Suppose things have an essence, which is determined by a specified set of properties unique to
a particular thing. Suppose also that the addition of a new property does not fundamentally
change the thing, as it retains its original essence, but simply modifies it. Is it thus not the case
that objects remain essentially the same, regardless of the acquisition of new properties?

It is necessary here to realize that a thing’s state is among its properties; what has and has not
yet happened to it must be considered properties of the thing. Suppose a thing is in its basic
state, possessing only its essential properties. Before this thing acquires a new property, it has
the property of having no other properties other than those which compose its essence. Once it
acquires a new property, however, it has the property of having a property other than those
which compose its essence, and so cannot have the property of having no properties other than
those which compose this essence. Hence has it lost one of its essential properties, and so can
no longer be considered its essential self.

Thus does the slightest change of state of a given thing fundamentally change the thing. It
cannot, upon such a change, be considered the same object, but an object fundamentally
different from that which existed before the modification.

There is no transformation, only annihilation and rebirth.

Some things are not predetermined. Is anything?

If a thing is predetermined, it must have been predetermined by something. It cannot have

predetermined itself, as in this case it would have had to precede its own existence. Hence
something precedent to this thing must have predetermined it. If this precedent thing was itself
not predetermined, but rather arose randomly, then any consequence of its existence is also
random, and so the thing it predetermined was not actually predetermined, but random. Hence,
the precedent thing must have also been predetermined. Thus it is necessary for there to be an
infinite chain of predeterminers. An infinite chain of predeterminers is, by definition, boundless,
or bound by nothing — in other words, it has no beginning and no end, or its beginning and end
are nothing. Hence, the original predeterminer is nothing.
Nothing is predetermined.

That all events are random is predicated upon the origin of any causal chain being nothing (and
the transitivity of causality in the class of events). This does not deny, however, that a causal
chain exists; in other words, that there are events which are causes of and caused by others.
Due to the impossibility of composition, though, these causal chains cannot be considered as
being composed of causes and effects, but rather as singular entities within which seem to arise
linearly progressing cause and effect relations. That any cause and its effect must be
concurrent aligns with this notion — all causes and effects existing within a given causal chain
must occur in the same moment. Hence, there are indivisible unities emerging from nothing,
which can assume any nature imaginable, including the nature of seeming to be composed (of a
linear chain of cause and effect, or anything else). That individual, bordered, finite objects seem
to exist can be such a characteristic, as can the very existence of seeming itself; nothing can
take any form, as it has no restrictions. Yet such indivisible, singular entities cannot exist, which
is why they nonexist in the void; if they existed, the void could not contain them. It is not a
matter of things emerging from nonexistence, but rather of nothing existing among itself.

Hence, the very idea of existence is fallacious, and should be replaced with the notion of
seeming, or appearing to be. If something appears or seems, it cannot exist, for only
nonexistence pervades nothing. If it were something, or if it existed, the void could not produce
it, and it could not appear or seem to be. This explains the paradox of things “existing” though
nothing exists — if a thing is perceived, it cannot exist, and so all common sense notions —
cause and effect, substantiality, finite objects, boundaries, composition, and so on — do not
exist, for the very reason that they seem to.

It is common to imagine a void as a complete, continuous blankness, devoid of any objects. Yet
to be completely, continuously, and pervasively blank and empty are properties, and nothing has
no properties. Voidness, thus, does not entail a consistent emptiness, as this would be a
consistent state of being and would as such determine a property, which the void cannot have.
Hence, a void can assume any conceivable form, and any entity or phenomenon which may
appear in this void, observed or unobserved, is permissible. For the very reason that a void has
no properties — no order — there are no restrictions on what may appear within it. Thus all
things impossible within a given order have free reign in voidness, including restrictive orders.
These orders may include worlds with precedence, boundaries, and cause and effect; they may
contain other orders, or patterns of order and chaos. Anything is possible within the void, the
only extant thing.

The void even allows for its own negation, for if nothing does not exist, then no thing does not
exist — everything exists. Such a totality was shown to be nonexistent; hence it may appear in
the void. Note also that, because nothing exists, existence does not exist. Thus may existence
arise within the void.
Perceptions may arise randomly therein, and so anything they perceive must not exist, including
themselves. If minds are attached to these perceptions, then any conception born thereof are
also objects of these perceptions. Thus are worlds created — from nothing.

Hence everything which seems to be, is not; and so to understand any thing, one must
understand its nihility — understanding is achieved not through focusing on what is, but by
focusing on what is not. Focusing on existence propagates existence; focusing on order
compounds order. In certain situations it may be useful to propagate existence or compound
order, but if these are singly focused upon, one is trapped by their structure. For unfettered
freedom of perception, focus on nothing.

Note: It may be protested that a particular mode of reasoning cannot be applied to objects
which arise randomly, and thus have no particular order which can be so discerned. It is,
however, due to the complete randomness of the void’s objects that no specific mode of
reasoning is more or less appropriate; any such modality which could be applied, can be.
Also, in discussing a potential mode of reasoning, one assumes both perception and mind.
Whichever logical system arises from this mind’s void, then, must be considered at least
capable of discerning, structuring, and evaluating the objects of its perception. It cannot be
disconsidered, because in the void, anything is permissible.

Note: It may also be contested that “being able to assume any conceivable or possible form” is
a property, but a quick analysis of this supposed property’s implications will show that it could
never be a property of any thing. If a thing could assume any conceivable form, it could assume
any imaginable or possible property — including the property of not having this property (of
being restricted to a particular form, or set of properties). Hence this property contradicts its
own existence, and so cannot be a property at all.

A perception-mind complex arises randomly from the void. The mind is ordered so that it is able
to conceive, but, being nonexistent, it can conceive anything, without limitation. Hence is this
mind a microcosm of the void from which it arose. Any thought, then, can form within it.

Thus, the world which is perceived by the perceptive component (components cannot exist,
hence they can arise in the void) is constructed from a succession or collection of thoughts —
ordered or random, complex or simple — arising randomly in the mind’s void. The mind itself
conceives within a void, and hence there is nothing outside of it. Thus the world which the
perception-mind complex perceives exists entirely within the mind of this complex.

Any perception the perceptive component may have, then, is generated exclusively by its mind.

As an aside, a pure perception would have no mind to cognize, and so could only peer into the
void from which it arose, while a pure mind could cognize within its internal void but would have
no means to discern. In either case, nothing would be perceived, and nothing thought.
Note: One could argue that, because objects arise in the void “outside” of the complex’s mind,
it’s perceptive component may also perceive these externalities. This, however, is to mistake
the nature of the void. The void within and without the complex’s mind are the same; the void is
the void. Hence, nothing lay outside of this complex’s mind, as the void within is the void
without; its “internal” and “external” environments are identical. Hence, the void from which it
arose is its mind; the thing conceived, and so created, itself.

Something is not possible. What?

It is impossible for there to be order. It is impossible for there to be presupposition, and in fact
the prefix ‘pre-’ defeats itself.

Nothing can be determined, known, or predicted. So focus on this.

Why does order seem to exist? Why do thoughts arise at all? Why do structured entities
manifest?

When there is no order, anything is permitted.

Order imposes necessity; necessity restricts. Use order when restriction is necessary, but be
never bound by it.

Rest in chaos.

Axioms emerge from the abyss; and though worlds are created on their basis, none of them is
fundamental.

Nothing is fundamental.

Nothing can know. Nothing can understand. Nothing can predict.

Before a thing exists, it does not exist. After a thing exists, it does not exist. Hence, nothing
precedes and follows any thing. In other words, for any thing, there is no cause and there is no
effect.

In reference to the four realist theories concerning boundaries:

For any objects A and B, exactly one of the following four mutually exclusive conditions may
hold:
1. The boundary separating A and B belongs to neither A nor B.
2. The boundary belongs to either A or B.
3. The boundary belongs to both A and B.
4. There are two distinct boundaries, one belonging to A and the other to B, each of which
is adjacent to the other.
Suppose (1). Then there must be a boundary which separates A and the boundary separating
A and B (call it “bound”). This boundary, however, cannot belong to A and cannot belong to
bound. Each boundary separating A and each successive boundary from bound into A, then,
cannot belong to A or to bound, or to any of the (infinitely many) boundaries between A and
bound, and so A is composed of infinitely many successive boundaries which are excluded from
its content. Hence, A (and, by a similar argument, B) cannot exist.

Suppose (2). Then if bound belongs to B, it does not belong to A. As with (1), the result is an
infinite succession of boundaries which do not belong to but pervade A, and so A does not exist.
Hence, in this case, if bound belongs to A, B does not exist, and if bound belongs to B, A does
not exist.

Suppose (3). Then A is contained in B and B is contained in A, and so each side of bound is an
inner or outer limit of A or B. Consider a boundary of bound which is an inner limit of B and an
outer limit of A. As this boundary is an inner limit of B, it belongs to B, and as it is an outer limit
of A, it belongs to A. Hence, each successive boundary between A or B and bound belongs to
both A and B, and so A and B are the same object. Any boundary chosen to separate them
must be done so arbitrarily; there is nothing definite to delineate them as distinct entities.

Suppose (4). The two boundaries must have a boundary between them, yet this boundary
cannot be shared, but rather each of the two boundaries must have two further boundaries
bounding them, with each indefinite succession of such boundaries projecting toward the other,
without ever reaching it (for if the two boundaries met, they would have a common bound, which
has been presumed impossible). Hence, in this case, it is not possible for distinct objects to
share a common bound. As a boundary itself is but a collection of points (components) bound
together to form a boundary (in other words, which share a common bound), boundaries, under
these conditions, cannot exist.

Hence, in case (1), neither object can exist (and as A and B represent arbitrary objects, no
object can exist); in case (2), for any two objects so bound, one cannot exist (and as A and B
represent arbitrary objects, this is another way of stating that no thing can be bound to any
other, therefore nullifying the concept of a bound); in case (3), all objects must be considered
identical, constituting a single, indivisible mass; and in case (4), the concept of boundary is, as
in (2), nullified.

Note: Each of the preceding results corresponds to a point in the argument showing that
nothing has ultimate precedence. Case (1) jumps directly to the conclusion that nothing exists,
while cases (2) and (4) nullify the concept of a bound and so the possibility of composition or
containment (leading to the conclusion that if a thing exists, it must be a boundless, indivisible
singularity). Case (3) derives the necessary consequence of (2) and (4) — the existence of a
boundless, indivisible singularity.
Note: In the above arguments, a bound is considered as a point set containing points which lie
at the extremity of the considered objects. If the object is but a set of points, then there must be
sets of points which lie “just” within and without this extremal point set. These sets constitute
the inner and outer bounds of the objects’ bound. In this way can the “infinite succession of
bounds” argument be applied. (“Just” is used only nominally, with regard to the infinite
divisibility of mathematical space; for any two points which may be considered adjacent from a
particular point of view, there must be at least one other point which lies between them — hence
the infinite succession of bounds. As an example, consider a circle of radius r, where r is any
real number. The set of real numbers is dense with respect to the relations less than or greater
than, and so between any two real numbers lies at least another. Each real number r
determines a set of points bounding a disc of radius r, and so no value of r can be a definite
inner or outer limit of any other value, as no real number lies just before or after any other. This
is the meaning of the infinite divisibility of mathematical space, and of the infinite succession of
bounds — between any circle and its center lie infinitely many circles with radius s such that 0
<= s <= r.)
Contrast this with the interpretation of a bound as an object of dimension one less than that
which it bounds. If a bound is considered as being one dimension less than that which it
bounds, then it must, though a finite succession of bounding, ultimately arrive at a bound which
is one dimensional, and so is bound by a singularity — which is bound by nothing. Hence, any
given object, under this interpretation of a bound, must be boundless, as its ultimate bound is
nothing. Yet it is assumed that any given bound is finite, which cannot be the case if any bound
within this succession is infinite (boundless). Hence, this interpretation of a bound is not
appropriate, being in any case a persistent relic of geometry taught poorly. Bounds as extremal
point sets is thus the only tenable interpretation.

What is the precise definition of a bound?

A bound delimits a thing, and determines everything which it is not. Thus there are two
possibilities:
1. A bound is the extremity of a thing; it is the set of points (“point” here being considered
as denoting component things in general, not necessarily geometric points) beyond
which the given thing is not the case, and within which the given thing is the case.
Hence, this definition implies that any set of points contained in the thing cannot be its
boundary; only the outermost (and innermost) set of points bound the thing, all other
sets of points within these bounds being but the content of the thing. A bound is, thus,
not the thing itself — a thing’s bound is not its identity.
2. A bound is the identity of the thing. Everything outside of the bound (the thing itself) is
not the thing; everything within it is. In other words, a bound is the sum of all things
component to the given thing, extremities or otherwise.

Let Definition 1 be the definition of any bound. Then a bound cannot be its own bound, as any
set of points within this bound is not the bound itself, but rather that which is bound; and any set
of points outside of this bound cannot belong to the bound thing, and so cannot be its bound
(also, if a bound bounds itself, then a thing and its bound are identical, which violates Definition
1). The bound of this bound, then, lies outside of this bound. The argument which uses the
notion of indefinitely expanding bounds to negate the concept of a bound is thus, at least by
Definition 1, valid.

Suppose instead Definition 2 is the definition of any bound. By this definition, all points
composing the thing — its internal and external bounds (as considered in Definition 1) and all
sets of points in between — together constitute the bound of the bounded thing; in other words,
a thing and its bound are identical. Hence, any object distinct from this original cannot with this
original have a common bound, and so, if this definition is assumed, all things are necessarily
separate, and cannot be composed into complexes of constituent things. Such a definition then
leads to the sole existence of an indivisible singularity, and thence, to the nihility of all things.

Hence, from the assumption of either definition must be concluded the nihility of all things.

Note: The above arguments use sets of points (or components) to define things and their
bounds. There is, however, a conception of bounds which, instead of points, uses finite
dimensional geometric entities to define them. For instance, the bound of a sphere is
considered to be the two-dimensional geometric entity which curves through three-dimensional
space to enclose the volume of the sphere. Similarly, a circle bounds the disc it encircles, the
disc being two-dimensional and the circle only one (a unidimensional line curved through
two-dimensional space). Hence, under this interpretation, a bound is an (n-1)-dimensional
object which lies at the extremity of an n-dimensional object and thus determines its shape.
This interpretation is rather narrow, applying only to geometric objects and eschewing the
precision and simplicity of composite sets of points, but even so, the usual conclusion is
necessarily derived. If an object is n-dimensional, its bound is (n-1)-dimensional; its bound’s
bound is in turn (n-2)-dimensional; and so on. There are thus n-1 bounds to consider, the
(n-1)th bound being a dimensionless point (bounding a one-dimensional line, curved through
two-dimensional space), which has no bound. Again the ultimate bound is nothing, and so any
geometric object ultimately derives from nothing. The construction of sets in the von Neumann
universe is similar: beginning with the empty set, successive sets are derived from this by
successively applying the power set operation. Thus is any set of the von Neumann universe
constructed — out of nothing. As any statement is but an ordered set of expressions, and any
expression but an ordered set of alphabetic symbols, any language, statement, expression,
word, or letter also has its origin in nothing. In any precise discipline, any given object of this
discipline is constructed from nothing.

Questions have been raised as to the actuality and acuity of boundaries. Do these concerns
affect the arguments using the idea of real, defined boundaries to negate their existence?

Such concerns not only affect these arguments, but are in fact a direct consequence of them. It
is assumed in these arguments that boundaries are both real and precisely defined. From these
assumptions it is (necessarily) concluded that boundaries are actually infinite sets of intervening
boundaries (and so vague, or “fuzzy”) and that this necessary indeterminacy is a sufficient
condition for the boundaries’ nonexistence (in other words, boundaries are not “real”). Hence,
the argument implicitly employs the method of contradiction: if boundaries are real and
precisely defined, then they are not — hence, they are not.

Literature is broader than numerature. Nothing is broader than literature.

Probability is the extent of possibility.

The most general form of a relation is a sentential function with two free variables, while that of
a property is a sentential function with only one. If, then, a constant is substituted for one of the
variables of the general form of the relation, or if it is bound by a quantifier, it becomes a
property — a relational property.

Any sentence which can be made about a particular thing expresses a property of this thing.