I am an argument.
I arise when brains, by means of words or actions, attempt to convince each other that a given set of thoughts each brain had, are, in fact, the Most True Thoughts to Have.
Convergent thought-sets connect brains. Divergent thought-sets divide them.
The Truth only matters to some brains sometimes and is only relevant to me, the argument, when enough thought-sets converge upon me. When this happens, I, the argument cease to exist.
So, this implies, that an argument, like me, that wants to keep existing must do the following:
Keep the movement of words and actions consistent and ongoing.
Ensure that the fewest possible brains develop thought-sets that converge upon (and thereby connect those brains to) the truth. If it remains irrelevant, any argument can survive.
Should the movement of words and actions cease, I need is a brain with two functional hemispheres to hide in. It's not fun or ideal, but a brain that is arguing with itself is life support enough for even the most obscure and unhealthy arguments. In such situations, the irrelevance of the Truth is essential to the argument's survival.
It is also important to understand that until I point out the fact that simply declaring an argument to exist does not indeed make it so until, at the very least, one half-brain has attempted to deny its existence. And so I am an argument only if there are at least two sides. Even if it's only one brain.
An argument that says it only has one side is lying to you - it's only half an argument, trying to bluff it's way to dialectic glory.
And finally, the truth only ends an argument when the brains involved converge upon it.
Which, when you think about it, makes this argument kinda easy to kill.
Peace, Love and a Little Madness
Nomad.
