ellauri119.html on line 688: From a philosophical viewpoint, Ayn Rand´s objectivism is an inconsistent pile of faulty axioms and absurd conclusions. Her tautological A = A and her invalid claim that all thought is verbal have been shown, long ago, to be either useless information or demonstrably false. Wittgenstein dismissed tautologies as telling us anything new about the world before Rand came to the USA and phenomenology had dismissed a verbal mentalese grammar of the brain. Noam Chomsky´s innate grammar is only true for words, but thoughts are far more than just words since all thought appears to be motor based. What you might need is a grammar of the body instead. Thoughts seem to be closer to the movements of an athlete than to the words in a sentence. For some reason most people ignore that all speech is base on wagging the tongue, and the vibrations in middle ear and cochlea, a motor based capability that we have learned to use to communicate with. Is there an isomorphism between the movement of the tongue and those of sign language that would show a fundamental grammar shared by both?
ellauri161.html on line 590: Don’t Look Up wants to paint our inaction with regard to climate change as the result of denialism and being distracted by silly things like, say, a movie streaming on Netflix. But climate change isn’t a comet headed our way in less than a year — a lousy, faulty metaphor for where we’re at right now. Except that IT IS! It's probably too late already. Now get a big mouth fuck goddam Allison Willmore,
ellauri432.html on line 344: On May 31, 2017, President Donald Trump, already well-known for his tweeting and faulty vocabulary, tweeted: “Despite the negative press covfefe.” The random-seeming tweet remained untouched and unexplained for more than six hours, during which the internet exploded in speculation, largely in the form of puns, jokes, and made-up definitions for this non-word.
xxx/ellauri166.html on line 310: We are all international activists—the yeshivah student struggling for clarity in an abstruse Talmudic passage, the storeowner who refuses to sell faulty merchandise, the little girl joyfully lighting her candle before Shabbat, the hiker who reaches the top of her climb and breathlessly recites a blessing to the Creator for the magnificent view, the young father who has just now started wrapping tefillin every morning, the subway commuter who lent the guy next to him a shoulder to sleep upon, and the simple Jew who checks for a kosher symbol on the package before making a purchase. Our destiny is tied to the destiny of those books, that merchandise, that time of the week, that mountain, that morning rush, that neighbor and that train, and the food in that package. We cannot live without them, and their redemption cannot come without us. We are all sanitation workers.
xxx/ellauri176.html on line 154: The novel was translated into English by Vizetelly & Co. in the 1880s as Abbé Mouret's Transgression, but this text must be considered faulty due to its many omissions and bowdlerisations, as well as its rendering of Zola's language in one of his most technically complex novels into a prolix and flat style of Victorian English bearing little resemblance to the original text. Two more faithful translations emerged in the 1950s and 1960s under the titles The Sinful Priest and The Sin of Father Mouret.
xxx/ellauri176.html on line 892: In 1963, a report from the Defamation League found that Rockwell had only 16 “troopers” in residence with him in a rickety two-story barracks in Arlington, Virginia. The plumbing was faulty and the American Nazis were subsisting on canned hash, chicken stew and even cat food, the report said.
xxx/ellauri229.html on line 533: Much impressed by what I had heard, I returned to my reading, the third volume now of Dichotican history. It described the Era of Transcarnal Centralization. The Sopsyputer at first worked to everyone´s satisfaction, but then new beings began appearing on the planet-bibods, tribods, quadribods, then octabods, and finally those that had no intention whatever of ending in an enumerable way, for in the course of life they were constantly sprouting something new. This was the result of a defect, a faulty reiteration - recursion in programming language or - to put it in automata terms - the machine had started looping. Since however the cult of its perfection was in full sway people actually praised these automorphic deviations, asserting for example that all that incessant budding and branching out was in fact the true expression of man´s Protean nature. And this praise not only held up the repairs, but led to the rise of so-called indeterminants or entits (N-tits), who lost their way in their own body, there was so much of it; completely baffled, they would get themselves into so-called bindups, entangulums and snorls; often an ambulance squad was needed to untie them. The repair of the Sopsyputer didn´t work - named the Oopsyputer, it was finally blown sky high. The feeling of relief that followed didn´t last long however, for the accursed question soon returned, What to do about the body now?
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