A letter. If we review the host of syntactic structures available to the cognitive species, then the very conceivability of the state of affairs is measured to the broadest extensional architecture available to physical reality. Our specimen itself is the example of such cascading forms of emergent morphological expression. The phrase “A letter” is composed of many letters, and yet itself identifies one; by one interpretation it picks out many such derivative forms, or is itself consistent with their creative throughput. Any such letter will not do, yet the world therein each is the multitude of language. No such arbitrary set of mechanizations of organic matter will get you just those letters necessary for such a statement to be true, yet wildly uncommon languages might terrify our sensibilities, those who approximate the minimalistic worlds who give such a phrase meaning. As a descriptor, it tells us almost nothing and deceptively all there is to know in the mind of a species, or any some great number of ancestor simulations dividing almost certain the radically large optionality immanent to our actualization of the actual. No reference to itself holds little weight in the minds of infants or extraterrestrials we have yet to meet, or the horizontal transfers between ourselves in the present or, if nominalizing, its past.
A letter to itself
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