To the northe of the great city of Inpherensse, almost touched by the shadows of the highest towers in our Majesty’s fortress, the glorious Guh-Ran-Mar, and protected by royal edict, there lies a hill which is inhabited by the most outlandish and byzarre of the wyld symbols. Strange tales have been told about such lands, but it is not a very… ah… safe place to be, at least for someone who still aspires to syntactical correction. But if your highness would allow me, i could guide a small voyage through the place.
You see, one of the great curiosities about this hill is that, though it does occupy a verily smalle expanse of our great realm of Lan-G’Ajj, it is never the less very central, very central indeed. This is of course the reason why even the most chaste of phrases sometimes has to thread those narrow passes that cross the dark woodes we now dare enter.
Ah! Over there. See? One of the most common critters we should expect to observe. It’s a pack of Dactilunus percussionensis. Those are the hand signals that Maracatu (or sometimes other kinds of perpussion groups as well) regents will do with their hands high above their heads to orient the players which is the next break to be played.
Sometimes you can also find their close relatives, the Dactilunus esportiva, wandering around, which are the hand signs that volleyball players do over their own butts to signal possible plays to the gal making the serve.
Why oh why, thou might aske, are those signes any special? Indeed, they are simple one-to-one correspondences, with clear, very objective, representamen and referent joined together by a simple training routine. Yes, yes, yes, but thou overlookes that those syntactic relationes are of no importance for those symboles. They are foremostly synchronization acts.
The cause is that no one is interested in their semantic properties, you see, but only in propitiating the correct actions at the same time. The alfaias play one strong and two lowes. The attacker leape at the correct time to get the setter’s ball.
Some advanced that the actions were the semantic content of those signes, but if so, wouldn’t a metronome be also a signe? Or the sun that makes the sunflower spin? Could we say the Moon is a representamen because it pulls the tides? Does a donkey represent anything because it pulls the cart?
No. Those hand signes are synchronization acts first, and, as a side-effect, they make symboles. Oho-ho…
But wait! I see tracks!
Yess, yesse… He! Follow me and have care that thou makes no noise, if we approach carefull… Look, look, over there! Beautifulle specimen, it’s an Involuntarium infantulus. Rare — that is, if thee never baby-sit.
This signe is that whereupon Francisco the baby extends his arm to reach the pack of Chocookies. There is only one idea in his minde, and we understand he wants the cookie, but the act itself is never an communication act. Francisco probably does not have the concept of “other people” in his head yet, not to say much respect to grammar or syntax, so when he reaches for the cookie we could actually call this just a symptom, it could be just like a high temperature that is interpreted as a symbole but that is not actually an communication act, but there is just one problemo.
Francisco the baby can’t hold the pack. He is not still strong enough to grab it (that will change soon enough — to the despair of the parents, hehhe). His action does onlie make any sense if we give the cookie for him. So… is it a symbole? Is there a syntax here? Can we say there is grammar in this wille? Hard to say, hard to say, n’est ce pas?
But let us not tarrie, for at this time of the day, proceeding with heed to a fountain i know near here, maybe we can spot a very, very famous signe, a verily wyld and short-tempered signe indeed.
The great Adamicu donatus. At the Garden of Eden, Adam points to each thing and gives a name.
The physiologie of such a signum yet defies all understanding. There was language before, since the deity had created the verb, but there were no words. Language was a vast space with not one inhabitant. Theretofore name giving here was a semantic act devoid of convention. It was a communication without a code.
How can such a symbole even survive? Still makes me amazzed.
As you no doubt surmised, no one has seen a female — or for that matter another specimen — of the donatus anywhere. And yet, sometimes histories surface of rogues that resemble this beast, like when the jungle boy points at his own chest and says “Tarzan” then at the girls and says “Jane”…
But oh! Oh! Have I lost my mind? We tarry, we tarry. It is late, a short time we have before the sun goes beyond the horizon and we have a long way to return home.
What? Another, you say? Imprudent, imprudent! We must go back, we must… But, but if you insist, follow me, but run. In a clearing that so lies on our path back you can see a symbole that carries some most exuberant rhetoricale appendages. It is a wyld symbole for it is somehow an example of itself!
It is when Splinter the mutant rat ninja master tells that “wisdom can come from strange places”. Indeed! You see it? Over there, under the shadows? It’s name is Autoargumentans ratus.
And now lets go.