Context

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Context

Also on this page: {Context (coda)} The basic idea is: CONTEXT IS KING. That's it. Now go and contemplate that. It's evil twin brother is The Intentionalist Falacy (that is, somehow we can *gues* the INTENTION of the artist based just on the work of art, music, etc. classical discussion goes here See: [Context (coda)} If i go up to the concerge at a very busy hotel that has no vacancies (let us for argument's sake say that it is in a hotel in Canada (see map)) And i go up to the concerge and say to them "i need a room", they in turn say, "we are full", and then (on the off chance of CONTEXT), i say "crag clue, verbum sapientius, yoddle doddle dee, scharee scharuu", if the they have read a particular work by Stephen Leacock then they will surely say "i know" in a most cryptic manner. and try to find me a room. Similarly, if i go up to a total stranger (let us say on the sceptered isle commonly referred to (but never an uncommon isle) as "Great Britain" and say "i've misplaced my money, can you loan me 5 quid?" (and assuming (with my v. american accent), they notice that i am carrying with me my favorite "dancing dolphins" towel, and then much to the amazement of their companinon(s) they not only take out 5 quid and give it to me, but that we warmly embrace and call each other "frood", and then i am invited to the nearest pub whereupon we discuss the concepts of probability (and im-probability) to well into the night). These behaviours (obviously) depend upon context and in this case *the implied context of literary references*. How it is that such things can occur? Or perhaps, a little old lady is on a train-station landing, and her trunk hasn't arrived yet, looking around, she sees an odd looking person and approaches them (they converse on a subject that we can only catch glances of), and then she departs leaving the odd looking person to watch the remainder of her luggage, whilest she tries to locate her missing trunk. when (after almost 2 solid hours) she returns, she is *not un-suprised* but, quite appologetic, to find that the odd person is *still* there dutifully watching her luggage, by this time they are sitting on the landing, reading a book entitled "Your's, Marcel" and the only thing that the on-lookers notice is that the odd looking chap is wearing what appears to be a t-shirt with a picture of the mona lisa on it, that apparently has been *defaced* by some-one drawing a moustache onto. These behaviours are based on several points of context of the current era (indeed of *any* era). That literature, music, and culture transcend all other considerations. If an alien space craft lands, and the green-tentacled creature inside is clearly die-ing and many draw back in disgust at the sight (and one would supposed at the *odor* !!), and the creature asks in it's (actually her), die-ing voice, "some, poetry, just a little bit of poetry, if you can" -- that across the millenia, across the vast reaches of (mere) inter-stellar space, that such a request would be heartily granted by anyone strong enough to know how important "poetry" to life -- further how ESSENTIAL poetry to the "examined life" it must surely be thought to a primary constituent of a small bird called "hope". AND FURTHER. THEN SURELY, THERE MUST BE HOPE FOR US (the people, the humans, the small, blue-green planet, called 'earth') after all. (it was at this point, that the much learned (and much more leaning) lecuturer, got down off of his soap box, and fell face-first into a recently deposited load of horse hockey), nite all. -- Pizo, 2005.01.14 (cough, cough, shouldn't have been cleaning the kilns without a dust mask!!!! drat it!)