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When sentences attributable to the BBC’s news service cease to demonstrate logical flow, and when you notice fragmented thought in a large proportion of the sentences in one news piece, you know we’re lost as far as clear communication in English goes.

Here are some sentences from one news story at bbc.co.uk on the 13^th of June, 2010. Ellipses indicate the omission of sequences irrelevant for our purpose here.

“Drinking three or more cups of tea a day is as good for you as drinking plenty of water and may even have extra health benefits, say researchers.”

Which researchers? The BBC these days routinely drops the relevant qualification of certain words, with “researchers” being a good example. Sentences like the above, and similar sentences from hundreds of news agencies, make the word “researchers” ring the same as “gods.”

Next: “The work in the European Journal of … dispels …”

Which work? With this, the reader is supposed to make the relation between “researchers” and “the work,” which can happen only when he or she accepts this: “Something in the current sentence is always related to something in the previous one.” The building of that relationship has traditionally been the job of the writer.

Next: “Tea not only rehydrates … but it can also protect against heart disease … UK nutritionists found.”

This sentence refers to UK nutritionists, whereas sentences prior referred to a certain work, a certain journal, and “researchers.” The piece thus far, comprising three sentences, might as well have been written by three different people. Where is the writer, and whither now the reader?

Next: “Experts believe flavonoids are …”

Now it is “experts.” This sentence as a fact-container in itself is fine; as a successor to the three that went before, it is invalid. To be crude, it is nonsense.

Then: “These polyphenol antioxidants …”

Which polyphenol antioxidants? The reader, who is being told about a certain piece of research on tea, and who is being persuaded of the health benefits of that beverage, has been assumed to know that flavonoids are polyphenol antioxidants. That is the obvious explanation; the alternative explanation is that we have seen two unconnected sentences placed one after the other, which is worse.

And: “They found clear evidence that drinking three to four cups of tea a day can cut the chances of…”

Notice “clear evidence” and “can cut.” Clear, or possible? This sentence cannot be!

From world knowledge, I can guess that the researchers mentioned evidence of risk and statistical significance. These concepts cannot be translated into plain English in the space of one sentence. When a casual attempt is made, as in the above, it either befuddles the mind or forces it to accept statements on faith. When those statements are supposed to be scientific, something bad is going on, I’m sure.

“Other health benefits seen included…”

They were not seen; they were inferred and/or proposed by the researchers. Seeing is categorically different from inferring. In fact, one cornerstone of science is: I will not believe or propose unless I see.

On and on the non-written piece of writing goes. Cause or effect? Seen or inferred? Proven or believed? What I am saying, or what you are thinking? Certain, or probable?

Need I be factual, or anecdotal, or should I stay confused, or perhaps I should rant? Or weep?

Mehr Licht, bitte!

Find out what “to list” means, then drop your books and listen. Or go right now back to your fingerprint-free, beclothed books. I wish to love you, Welt! Nicht mehr diese Töne! But I do not right now. In my horrible ego, I say: this two-minute session is the fleetest beast to take you to it, to what you want, to money and abs, and everything else! Go or listen! Better, list!

What everyone is saying and what I am saying is that what they and you and she and he are saying are all the same, as you know. Use more words, know more words, the bigger it becomes; the louder it becomes, the harder — difficult and more shaft-like — it becomes.

You don’t need me nor anyone else to tell you that all you know (and all I know) is crap.

They all knew it and so do you, and don’t bother telling me you don’t, or didn’t, or won’t, or anything. Whitman knew it, Paul (Simon) knew it, God knew it, all the German Namen knew it. Goethe knew and told. Schopenhauer knew and wrote. Germaine Greer knew and screamed that she didn’t; she screamed so hard that I knew she knew (pure quantity, if you will). Paul (Simon) knew and sang. Jesus knew and lived. The Upanishads have it written, and no human knows who wrote it, not even Schopenhauer, and he said that he didn’t know who wrote them; and of course it doesn’t matter. If you want to know who wrote them, you’re dead. Go, go! Find out whether Bach was sexually repressed and whether Schubert was gay! Whether Freud had a hidden agenda! Whether Paul was a New Yorker at heart and whether you are blah and blah! And who cares about your blah and blah? Nothing less than this is the Problem, yours and theirs and all’s: Paul cares, you care, your dog cares, on and on right up to Shiva who wil destroy you because you deny that you know, crossing past Schopenhauer der Sledgehammerer who didn’t give a damn to what you thought, and across to that little-known poet you identify with and are proud of having discovered and/or of the fact that no-one around you knows his or her poems, and who seems smaller than the Beatles (and smaller than Schrödinger and Heisenberg whose books you dont’ understand and so have kept away for physics class).

Eckhardt knew, but he wrote in German, and that is Herr Adolfs Sprache, so: problem. Beethoven sang, but he was deaf, so: problem. (What caused his deafness, temporomandibular disjointment or cochlear failure? Look up what Kerman has to say; compare and contrast with Sullivan, and write out your latest theory.) Schopenhauer told you all it is, but you don’t trust him because he says he knows it all, and worse: his sentences are long, ganz 45 times longer than the average full SMS.

One German word there and you hate me already! Lots of Germans all over here, oder? Und zo you poken Funnen an dem, no? And you want to learn the world from people spread across a hundred countries! AND you want equal opportunity and equal everything, but you are better, of course, because you’re more equal! And that sounds Russian! All this has become nonsense now!

Analyse all this and it is devoid of sensible material, no? Empty words, yes? And smug you are, no? And smug I am now, yes?

We are both smug; so muß es sein. Thus must it be, but drop it and it’s gone. Trust me. For it to go, you drop it. Simple enough.

Whitman knew it. Whitman wrote poems! Read them! Stop pretending you don’t know! Whitman didn’t! Beethoven didn’t! Whoever told you what they each knew, did they deny that they knew? And is that not how they told you?

Paul is so dear, but you want to analyse his life and his patterns. Analyse and you’ll get crap. Yes, no?

Christ was dear, but someone told you to critically appraise the relevance of the concept of A Messiah as Refuge in the contemporary context. Yes or no? When things become bad, Vishnu comes, then he goes; but he is a painting, yes? Pantheism is bad, yes? But monotheism is also bad, so… hmm. Maybe Zen is better, but they all have slit-like eyes, hence Problem.

Nietzsche speaks loud and goes mad because you didn’t hear, and you don’t listen to him because he was mad. Who is mad?

Where do you want to go from here? If you genuinely want no-one, why does everything you do seem to me like an attempt to place yourself where a god was? And you call me an egoist? Who is an egoist?

The fact is, there is no fact, just you — and now me, because I am speaking.

If I’m right, all your brain is belong to me, and that is your problem and mine too, but I have no problem, and that is the difference. So I’m better than you, and so you won’t listen, and perhaps I’ll be louder next time.

Have I left you with nothing?

One can easily dwell upon the following and derive many side-trains, so let us be on a straight track.

We usually think of “true but stupid” as: trivial, truism, not-useful, empty. Examples:

“One of the divisors of seventeen is unity.” (Trivial)

“Condensed milk contains milk as its main ingredient.” (Truism)

While we are talking about your uncle’s ill-health, I say: “There is a mouse on the table.” (Not-useful)

This sentence contains no information. (Empty)  

I just realised that there is a much more profound category: true but meaningless. Here are examples, assuming there is only a mouse and a monitor on your table:

“There is no apple on the table.”

“There is no heavy metallic object on the table.”

“In the past five minutes, I spoke exactly zero times about your aunt’s uncle.”

Etc.

“Meaning” refers to the mapping of the unknown to the known. It is true that there is no apple on the table, so let’s ask: why is the statement without meaning?

I can explain this in terms of “truism” and the other things as above (those are the intermediate nonsenses). This statement is without meaning because it is a truism *and* it is known. In words, we have: The fact of no apple is a “known truism.” Also, there is nothing beyond in principle. (There are, doubtless, higher nonsenses, but they can be derived the same way.)

Hence: You carry an infinite number of facts — one for each of the (known) objects that are not on the table.

Now, back to our question: Why is it meaningless to say “there is no apple,” while it seems meaningful to say “there is a mouse, but no keyboard”?

All the following are true:

1. This mouse is made of titanium.

(You were not aware of it, so this is called information.)

2. The mouse is on the table.

(You were already aware of it, so this is called truism, obviousness, etc.)

3. “No keyboard is on the table,” OR “The keyboard is not on the table.”

(You were aware of it, so it includes truism and obviousness, but it is considered more meaningful than #2 above because I am pointing you to something you only latently know.)

4. No apple is on the table. (You knew it. It is a “known truism.” You possess an infinity of such latent truths. The thing here is: Unlike in the case of the keyboard, I am personally creating the apple in your thoughts and then negating it. You say “yes, it is true” even though it was not in your thoughts — whereas when we usually say “X is true,” we are referring to something that is indeed in our thoughts.

The catch, as I see it, is that I am creating a truth when I make the statement. Sure, it is a known truism, and therefore not only useless but also meaningless, but I actually created it.

It seems to me that the truths we can create would have to be of this kind. Here are examples of such truths in real life:

“You will not be able to resist the thought of ‘a red apple’ in the next one minute.”  (Try it, and you will see that it is true. Then see this: it is true because I said that sentence.) This, extended to actions, translates to Temptation.

“Watch this scene and you’ll never feel like having apple pie again!” (Some even respond with “Yes, I’m sure! I won’t watch the scene!” — This we see in the phenomenon of movie spoilers.

“Walk wherever you want, but never, ever enter that area. It’s creepy. Don’t ask me why.”

This creates Ghosts.

“You think coffee and cheese are harmless? Just try three cups of coffee followed by six ounces of cheese, then have two more coffees after a two-minute break. I’ll do anything you say if you stay alive.”

This creates Fear.

On and on one can go, and the ultimate, of course, is:

“There will be a time when you do not exist.”

This creates the concept of Death.

In sum:

1. If someone says Falseness cannot come from Truth, he is wrong  

2. By combining various human elements with The Act of Negation, many powerful — and at the same time ephemeral –  humanly negative things can be created, all of which have the exact authority of truth. Learning to recognise The Act of Negation has immense therapeutic value, I’m sure.