Semantic Constituency

 In language the question of what exactly can be used to transfer information is frequently brought to our attention. Sometimes this information is obscure and difficult to detect: micro-expressions are a perfect example. While fleeting and inchoate, the smallest symbols can tell us more about a person's story and character.

Most of these are by now a subconscious recourse brought about by history and culture – communal devices, as language is typically a communal conundrum. Things like colour are indicative of sectors within society (green = nature, red = emergency, blue = government/corporations), and even sounds are given distinctions (rapid notes = liveliness, softer music = sorrow). We don't really need to stop to consider these – they are just things most of us know.

But it doesn't stop there. The layers of complexity compound with obscurity. Say for example we look at angles versus curves. If you live in a city, you quickly come to understand that angles feature heavily in architecture and engineering, while curves are a good deal less common outside of the natural world. We then compare the reliability of man-made technology with natural design (mechanic versus organic) and conclude that the organic curves are sustainable and godly while angles are brutal and basic. At the point this association was realised people started to incorporate circular buildings and sleek, curvacious logos.

That's just one example. The part of Hexaemer that I'm considering at the moment is that of constituents at their most basic level – the alphabet.

At what point do we start assigning value to parts of words? There are of course prefixes and suffixes, by which we can determine that arrangements like 'pre' indicate 'before', or 'ing' denotes the present tense.

It goes deeper. Think back to first grade. How did they make you remember your alphabet?

A is for Apple.

B is for Boy.

C is for Cat.

At that point – as though it were not enough to take a bunch of addled toddlers and make them remember 26 distinct letters – we started to give additional value to the most basic pieces of our language.

A is for Apple = Nature = Ordinary = Bitter = Earth = Growth = Sustenance = Positive

B is for Boy = Masculine = Incomplete = Bravery = Honour = Rebellion

C is for Cat = Agile = Wild = Pain = Capricious = Sharp = Cruel = Domesticated

These first encounters with each letter change how we think of them, and therefore how we use them. We may decide to use the word 'Mystery' rather than 'Puzzle' because 'Mystery' involves Machines, Yoyos (up & down motion), Robbers, and Snakes

rather than Zebras, Umbrellas, Pencils and Lions.

As we begin to learn new words, popularity affects our understanding, too:

---------------------

Popular Vowels

a

e

i

----------------------

Popular Constanants

c

r

s

t

l

m

n

------------------------

Average Vowels:

o

-----------------------

Average Constanants:

b

d

f

g

h

k

p

v

w

y

------------------------

Obscure Vowels:

u

-------------------------

Obscure Constanants:

q

z

j

x

--------------------

We stick with words that have familiar sounds to the ones we already know, because we are likely to remember what they are by analysing their parts.

The reverse is true, too; the sorts of words that letters frequently occur within give them new semantic value: like 'K'. K is a combination of a hard sound with forceful intent; kinetic, kick, crack, brick – after coming into contact with enough of these, we reach out for words with the K sound when we are describing brute mechanisms.

In Hexaemer, all of this is very important, because it is not solely a written language, a spoken language, or a musical language – it is a blend of all forms of communication. Because I am not a godly mind-over-matter force of nature, I have of course based the language around the 26 letters of the English alphabet and the most common blends of each letter (le; tt; er). Because I am not a drooling matter-over-mind force of ignorance, I have taken it a step further. The symbol

has the English equivalent of 's', but actually stands for 'A common soft-form dependent participle with deceptive undercurrents and fluid motion'. This could just as easily apply to a musical note like 'Middle C', or to a subatomic particle, like an electron.

Yay. Only several hundred more Sigils to go.

The Square Root

What one word describes all others?

This is an important question to me. If there is a monotheistic God out there, his face is totality. She would need to be the ultimate omni-being: all present, all powerful, all knowing. It is one thing to be considered the architect of a creation, but another to be a part of that creation itself. If God were a simple architect, The Universe would be a self-sustaining entity no longer reliant on the presence of it's creator (Like Reltash is), but if not, we are offered something completely different.

For a creation to be dependent, it has to be an actual part of its creator, like a thought or a feotus (is there a difference between the two?).Thus an Omni-God is not so much a creator of something physical as a being who sustains a reality within her own mind, because as I am sure all artists know once it has left the mind to be transcribed into something physical the artist loses control over it. Of course, one of the important attributes of God is that he is 'unknowable' and capable of modes of thought we ourselves are not. I've always struggled with this idea. I can imagine her being very smart, imaginative and aware (heightening human attributes) but no further than that. I suppose imagining something unimaginable is something God can do but everyone else can't.

Anyway. Let's move on. Words. What exactly are words? Semantics dictates that words are symbolic compounds that describe other concepts or physical matter. Most important to the human experience is that words are not only physically transcribed for understanding (written characters) but also spoken compounds (sonic frequencies), which suggests that they can in fact be applied to any of the senses with a little work and a dictionary.
That leaves us with the task of understanding symbols, and though I'm no semioticist I'm pretty sure that symbols are representative examples of concepts. Whether or not 'representative' implies that something cannot be a symbol of itself is another matter which I will skirt over completely because loads of people choose to self-represent themselves in court and they don't pop out of existence when they do. Either way, almost everything is a symbol anyway, because we mostly just look at something and assume that it holds other characteristics without needing to lick and smell them to qualify our assumptions.

So yeah. Entities can be self-representative symbols, ergo symbols equate those entities themselves, ergo words equate to the entities they describe. Most people know this without having to read my blog, but they also know that everyone else needs a colon to survive even though they don't know why. That's very silly, because their colon may very well be planning to strangle them while they are sleeping.

When I ask "What one word describes all others?" I am not asking about the little electronic twigs you are staring at right now, I'm asking about entities. What one entity describes all others? If there is a single symbol that holds the whole multiverse within it, what is that symbol, and what does it represent?

This question is difficult to answer because we are limited by physical perceptions, even though we are quite competent in mental ones. I'd like you to join me in a simple mental exercise to find the answer we're looking for.
Look ahead of you. All of that and everything behind that has a word to describe it (or 'is a word'). All of it is also made of smaller words, or fragments of words, or longer words with smaller substances. Now that you are holding all that in your mind remember that reality has at least four dimensions. Incorporate everything behind you; trucks, trees, supernovas, photons. Now everything on each side of you (walls, emotions, gravity,  sounds). Above you (weather patterns, stars, temperatures, light). Below you (Caverns, pressure, shoes, odours).
Now recognise that everything you can name and cannot name is moving through time too, forwards and backwards, one substance giving into another in cycles of entropy and dynamic consistency. Ignore the barrier between concepts and physicalities; all things are recognised equally as words. Lastly, accept possibility. Understand that though you have perceptions, those perceptions can be wrong. Any one word may mean something else completely - as a good friend once pointed out to me, how can you be certain that your 'blue' is not another person's 'purple'? The symbol stays the same, but the entity shifts beneath it.

Swimming in this ocean of havoc and unity we are left with the task of naming two things: the reality, and the symbols (a duality which, once again, equates). There are many words we use to describe things we have never known; 'Absolution', 'Totality', and my favourite, 'Eternity'. If you consider the name for a group of complimentary words the best answer is 'Language'. This too is the crux.

Eternity and language. The one has the intention of shaping the other. One negates substance to something neutral and complete, while the other separates and labels. I am in love with both. Eternity is the word I chose to describe the sum of every other word, and I gave it this symbol
as a foundation for every other that would follow.

Six and twelve, folks.

Hexaemeric Law is what I named my 'Language of Eternity'. Writing is the substance of Reltash in more ways than one.