It is it

I wish to explicate as much as you wish to know it, perhaps even more, but there is a problem; the root problem, by definition, is that which cannot be defined. Its definition is the eternal absence of words...

...but so too the eternal effort of description.

And as long as effort has existed it has been applied to answering or avoiding this question, the question, such that at this point there is a remarkable body of information concerning it.

And for the person who has read and understood it all there will be a complete absence of understanding.

The root problem, by deduction from that title, is the essence, the most essential, fundamental, principle, basic, foundational. It is the singular, the completeness, space, time, everything and nothing aside.



The root problem is The Question whose answer is all answers,
And it is The Answer which answers all questions.

The root problem is Enlightenment,
And it is Anti-enlightenment.

The root problem is Good and Evil, Heaven and Hell, Order and Chaos;
The root problem is Zero and Infinity.



The root problem is paradox, not as in those we can conceptualize, but as in those vastly more numerous, those that we can't. Seeing how paradoxes are already really quite confusing, it is not so surprising to find that the root problem is the paragon of paradox,

and well fit to explain why the root problem is so hard to explain.



The root problem is holy peace arising from bitter conflict;
Thought and Reaction,
Sense amidst the Senseless.



It is difficult to say anything more apt, more fitting than nothing at all. The words, they can be read but entirely misunderstood; even a studious glance may yield the interpretation that I'm merely listing contradictions, and that there is no profundity in an exercise as simply listing contradictions. But I can hardly do anything else. The root problem is fundamentally contradictory, but the conflict of it is almost irrelevant compared to the inexplicable subtext.



The root problem is the area where opposites collide, but the same as the whole area where opposites reside.

The root problem is The Meaning Of Life, It is The Purpose;
It is Mortal and Immortal, Man and God as They are the same.

The root problem is nature, reality, existence;
It is evolution and creation,
temporal and spiritual.



And oh, how like the root problem to be the The Final Irrefutable Answer to the meaning of life, yet also the most unfulfilling, empty, fully incomplete Answer. Yes it is! It is the womb and the coffin, the origin and destination! I know I said that the conflict was practically irrelevant, but that is only partially true, part of the time; the root problem is as much about the oscillation aside start and end as it is those points.



It is the indefinite defined and the indefiniteness of definition; the answer as it is a question.



It is it.



Do you understand now?




If you think so, please reconsider. If you think you understand, you do not understand.













But if you think not... well, then you have begun to understand.





















And if you not think but be

Atop the wild wave he rode, adrift upon the tumult of the unknown

Ever before, Ever here, Ever after. All is change changing, yet the looked looks the same. "It is impossible," the indescript void of knowledge those before passed, "to cross the same river twice."

All sayable said, all thinkable thought, and all doable done, left to drift as an orphaned leaf, tumbling amidst the cooperative competition of forces greater than itself.

In all things beauty, life, the tempest of energies birthing at no end a magnificent aesthetic wandering wonder. Destruction as a form of creation, the most epic battle of paradox as the unwitnessed witness witnesses the unwitnessed witness witnessing. So man does as man has done, the unknown deed of the system that has unknowingly done him. A problem, an answer. No problem, no answer. But if it's isn't, is it or isn't it? To say it is can not be true, because it's isn't. But to say it isn't is also false, because it is isn't. So then what? Then develop mathmatical models. Then resign in unknowing. Before then. Then. After then. What is it anyway? Is it possible to not be? Suppose I were to describe something that did not exist, for instance, a unicorn. If a unicorn does not exist, how is it possible to describe it? Perhaps it does not exist in the same manner as horses, however it exists as a thought. Thus it does exist. What then could one describe that didn't exist? It is impossible to describe something that does not exist, as the very description of it brings it into existence. But this question suddenly becomes much more complex in one specific situation, the same confusion wrought before when wondering if it is isn't: if it is impossible to describe something that does not exist, does nonexistence exist? Nonexistence by it's very nature can not exist, otherwise it would be existence. But nonexistence can not not exist because we are able to describe nonexistence.

How often does this seemingly irresolvable paradox even present itself in the daily course of life? All the time. Beginning to learn algebra the students are taught that apples cannot be added to oranges, becuase they're different. Unfortunately, neither can apples be added to apples, as even the most superficial observation of the individual fruit would yield the fact that they are completely different themselves. And yet everything works anyway...

The root problem?

The root problem isn't something keen to fit in the guise of normal words. It's something that one could spend a very long time explaining without ever getting much across the void between two minds. It can be clearly defined and remain ambiguous. The root problem, to begin, is the question. The question as it is a whole concept, not a mere iteration of said concept. It is very important, however, to emphasize that the root problem is also the answer, particularly in the manner that it, the answer, becomes a question itself. Thus, the root problem is the question and the answer.

You can't take my gold.

The other day I visited a strangers house, and, for a time, it was uneventful. Two of the few people in the room, friends, men, were talking about guns and how fun they were. One of the men brought up the practical aspects of gun ownership: "When you have a gun, nobody can take your gold."

"Yes," the friend confirmed.

"And not only that, when you have a gun, you can take other people's gold."
It was at this point that my friend, whom I admire for his wisdom, spoke up joining the conversation.

"You can't take my gold."

"If I had a gun, I could take your gold. You couldn't stop me. Even if you had a gun, you wouldn't be expecting me."

"You can't take my gold." My friend repeated, simply, with a grin.

I am not one who enjoys conflict. I was very uncomfortable and couldn't understand why my friend persisted so.

"Dude. I've had a gun pulled on me and let me tell you, when you see a gun, you know at any moment you could die. When you see a gun, you empty your pockets."

"I've had guns pulled on me. But you can't take my gold."

I could stand it no longer; I went outside to escape the pressure.

For a few days I pondered this scenario as it repeatedly surfaced in my conscious thought dialog. It did seem that someone with a gun could surely take someone else's gold quite easily, yet my friend had never wavered in his confidence. This friend, great as he is, I knew, has an ego. I had thought all along that he was being egotistical, sparring with words exhibiting strength and fearlessness; primal superiority, I thought, rode the undertone of his words... until it struck me.

Ryan's gold isn't made of metal.