I meant to toy with TranslationParty on LanguageHat’s post. He quotes TechCrunch’s description, which indeed is precise:

The site is incredibly simple: you enter any English phrase you can think of, and it uses Google’s automated translator to convert it into Japanese. And then it translates it back into English. And back into Japanese. At each step along the way, the words you began with gradually take shape to form something entirely different and (hopefully) awesome. The retranslations continue until you reach what the site calls ‘equilibrium’, when the English and Japanese words translate back and forth into exactly the same thing. Fortunately, it usually takes at least a few steps for your words to reach equilibrium, and the resulting sentences are often hilarious.

full-of-self-doubt-polite-and-unimposing-tone. The question Do you want to be my girlfriend? (which I tried second) is in equilibrium. Now, the first time I tried it, I used the form I have used most in the past when in the obvious situation that leads to it. Insecurity abounds, as it oft does with me. Just maybe not about the answer but the question. Run through TranslationParty, a question becomes A question (and runs through other doubts):

would you like to be my girlfriend?

ﾞｪﾌ]ﾅｷｩH

Want me to her?

ﾍﾞﾉｵｽ｢ﾅｷｩH

What I want for her?

ﾍﾞﾆﾍｽｩH

I am with her?

ﾍﾞﾆ｢ﾁｵﾅｷｩH

What I find her?

lﾍﾞﾉｽｩﾂｯｩH

How do I find her?

ﾇ､ｷﾎﾞｩﾂｯﾌﾅｷｩH

What if I find her?

ﾇ､ｷﾎﾞｩﾂｯｩH

Damn! The equilibrium phrase sends me into sinuous and spiralling thoughts.

I have not tried anything else, but I am now wary of meeting the Roscharchs of my tones…

UPDATE: I tried another variant.

will you be my girlfriend?

ﾈｽｪﾌK[thﾌﾅｷｩH

How do I get my girlfriend?

ﾞﾍﾇ､ｷﾎ｢ﾌﾅｷｩH

What is she to do?

ﾞﾍｽs､ﾉﾍｽﾅｷｩH

What is she to do?

What if I find her?

no les caería mal la máxima de Neil Young vuelta famosa por Kurt Cobain “it’s better to burn out than to fade away”. (es mejor quemarse que desvancerse).

Me gustó tanto que me senti obligado a contestar, y lo hice con la impericia, brevedad, y confusión mental de las prisas:

Kurt Cobain, como siempre, tiene razón. Trístemente, creo que en el caso de la izquierda mexicana (como, en cierto sentido, de Cuba) regresamos a la cita más trillada del universo. Diría TS Eliot:

“This is the way the [left] ends
 This is the way the [left] ends
 This is the way the [left] ends
 Not with a bang but a whimper.”

Pero es que, al final, estos son Hombres Huecos, en el sentido de Eliot.

La alusión la puedes extender aún más al notar lo similar del comportamiento del PRD con la demagogía, el populismo, y la eventual tiranía de Kurtz, en Heart of Darkness. Al final, lo que podemos decir de la partidería mexicana (tristemente incluyendo a la izquierda) es “The Horror, The Horror”. Kurtz “burned out”, en la máxima grungista, pero antes de eso, los ideales izquiérdicos que recoge, “end in a whimper”.

Y más aún, con Guy Fawkes, representando al anarquismo y a la izquierda radical—en la referencia directa de Eliot.

TL

Dado que era medio inescrutable mi comentario, lo expandí:

Aquí se puede leer el poema The Hollow Men de TS Eliot. Creo que se le puede dar una lectura en la cual el PRD/la izquierda mexicana (y la partidería en general) son de estos Hombres Huecos. Me gusta en particular la escenografía mexicanizante del nopal (“This is cactus land”) y de la tuna (“Here we go round the prickly pear”), alrededor de la cual continúa la danza característica de nuestra política—el Cantinflismo.

Hasta arriba del poema, Eliot cita a Heart of Darkness de Joseph Conrad (“Mistah Kurtz—he dead.”) y hace referencia a la tradición inglesa que rememora a Guy Fawkes (“A penny for the Old Guy”).

En cuanto a la primera, hago yo un paralelo entre el viaje filosófico/político de Kurtz al final del río y el PRD/izquierda. Lo que empieza como la rebelión al imperialismo (PRIismo), pasa por la formación de la sociedad idónea (PRD/izquierda en teoría), y termina en una tiranía demagoga (PRD/izquierda [¡Begné!] hoy)—situación a la cual podemos usar el traslapado e indeterminado “The Horror” de HoD (Kurtz hablando del mundo, pero el mundo de Kurtz siéndolo). El PRD/izquierda entonces, como Kurtz, es uno de los Hombres Huecos (o bien está formado de ellos).

C/r/a la segunda, la efigie de Fawkes (como en la quema del Judas) que usan los niños es un Hombre Hueco/Hombre Relleno. Pero más allá de eso, Fawkes terminó hueco al no lograr el objetivo anárquico de explotar el Parlamento—como el PRD/izquierda al sucumbir al sistema.

En el poema, la multi-citada y trillada frase sobre el fin del mundo (“Not with a bang but with a whimper.”) hace justo referencia a Kurtz (que aunque acaba en un “bang”, el momento pico/ideal de su filosofía hace un “whimper” antes [como lo hacen aquellos sobre quienes rige]) y a Guy Fawkes (la falta de explosión implica que no hubo “bang”, y la derrota de Fawkes fue en un “whimper”).

Mi punto es que los ideales/la versión idónea del PRD/la izquierda mexicana están muriendo en un “whimper”, aún cuando el PRD/la izquierda en sí hacen un “bang”.

“This is the way the [left] ends”

TL

Ps La relación Eliot-Conrad-Fawkes ha sido muy discutida.

—–Original Message—–
From: Lajous, Tomas
Sent: Monday, July 20, 2009 10:10 PM
To: XXX
Subject: Epifanía culinaria

Primero:

Foie gras d’oie y un brie cremoso pero fuerte (déjalo afuera todo el día), con mermelada de higo casera. Un brioche, cortado grueso, y ever-so-slightly toasted.

Fuerte:

100g de fusilli y 100g de penne. Los haces al dente (usando rock salt pero NADA de aceite en el agua). Los dejas enfriar afuera (NO en el refri) un par de horas.

1/2 taza de apio choppeado
1 cucharada de eneldo (ahora sí fresco [en la cena antes mencionada cocinamos con eneldo seco a falta de fresco]) picado
1/4 taza de cebolla morada en octavos de aro grueso

Mezclas todo.

La salsa: poquito aceite de oliva delgado [ver abajo], poquito eneldo seco—porque ya hay de las dos—, rock salt, crushed (no ground) pepper (siempre negra, arriba y aquí), vinagre de vino blanco (o tinto si te sientes más wild) [mejor balsámico], y poquita mostaza antigua. La salsa debe de quedar muy líquida y muy fina. NO la enfríes, tiene que estar al tiempo. No la eches en la ensalada.

Aparte (justo antes de sentarte), asas 500-700g de camarones gigantes crudos (abiertos en mariposa) en un grill a fuego medio (aceite medio brushed en el grill), les echas rock salt y fresh ground pepper y los rocías de vez en vez con aceite más delgado (incluyendo una sobadita antes de echarlos, sobre todo del lado que no hay cáscara). Ojo, sólo los puedes voltear dos veces (empiezan con cáscara abajo, luego arriba y la última espolvoreada y rociada y luego abajo) pero checa que se hagan por dentro. Les quitas la cáscara de volada y los cortas en 4 ó 6 (dos o tres por lado).

Echas los camarones a la ensalada calientes. [Le echas el aceite caliente de los camarones a la salsa y la mezclas bien.] Echas las salsa, et voilà, mi Warm King Prawn and Pasta Salad.

Vino:

Yo usaría un rioja moderno (Cune o eso) sobre todo si escogiste usar el vinagre de tinto.

Postre:

Consíguete unos duraznos [mejor nectarinas] grandes, jugosos y muy dulces. Los cortas a la mitad y les quitas la semilla [y un poquito de tapa]. [Los sobas ligeramente con la mermelada.] Los metes al horno (pre-heated) sobre la reja (pon una charola en la reja de abajo para cachar el jugo). A media temperatura los dejas hasta que se marque la reja. Los volteas y lo mismo (se supone que se caliente el centro). Aparte, echa en un sartén una cucharada de mermelada de naranja súper ácida y una cucharada de agua a fuego alto hasta que se haga un líquido fino (justo antes de que estén los duraznos). Saca los duraznos, [limpia el exceso de mermelada,] vacía encima lo que quedo en la charola de abajo (o embarra si es melaza), báñalos con la salsa de naranja (que se va a endurecer un poquito [o mucho], chido), y échales azúcar glass (antes de que cristalize la salsa). Puedes echarles un poco de brandy tibio (con la naranja), o ahora que lo pienzo, Cointreau. Y si no está suficientemente dulce, miel fina encima del cristal pero abajo de la glass. Sirve tu Tomás and the Giant Peach caliente.

Si además le logras explicar a XXX como el menú, la temperatura de los platos, y la complejidad y similitud de los sabores, son una parábola del matrimonio, creo que ya ganaste.

 The question is whether volitional misspelling is noticeable as such (when intended to highlight grammatical acrobatics [and vice-versa]).

But shouldn’t we always assume that DFW takes some license to construct paper tigers? I have always been happy to let some mis-representation lie in the genesis of such felines… as the artistry and acrobatics of DFW’s battling and eventual argumentative victory over such a beast is well worth it. I think it is a sort of Popperian (or, more accurately, a perversion of the Popperian) building-up of Goliaths for our David.

The erudite LH has come up with one popular blog (e.g. 138 comments, so far, on the post in question) on an esoteric subject. And for some, including myself, it can be great fun. But user beware, it can get prickly and one can get run over like Brad Pitt in Meet Joe Black. These linguists can be merciless. So, at my own peril, enter I did… (Keeping a bullet handy in my use of “by” instead of “for” in my introductory “Running the risk that I end up being lambasted by my amateurship…”.)

The discussion was on the usage of “either” in English, ad how in Brit it means “each of two” and in American “one of two”—both definitions are of course valid, but the question was on usage. And there I went, armed with I-don’t-know-what.

The full thread is below (and here), and I will update it as it comes along. But I felt the initial upper-cut (let alone my newfound RAE-stemmed para[e]noia) at: “You seem at least to have mastered the style of the Sphinx. I find it very difficult to make out what you’re saying, from sentence to sentence. Each sentence is shrink-wrapped so indestructibly and tightly around its meaning that I can’t prise it open – like the plastic wrapping around small electronic equipment nowadays, in Germany at any rate.”

So much so that in yet another confessional, I replied that he’d “just given brilliant wordsmith ammunition to every significant other that, in looking for signifiance if my insignificant prose that was meant to convey my heart-felt but locked-in significatum, decided I was too obscure… and dumped me.”

Being the sucker that I am for punishment (which the above quote embodies), here goes the thread…

Re: Either (from way above)

Running the risk that I end up being lambasted by my amateurship…

In Spanish, “or” can be “o” or “ó”. The diacritical accent turns the inclusive form “o” into the exclusive form “ó”. In English, and I think there’s some discussion here, “or” is always inclusive (meaning “and/or”)—and/or, at least, it is ambiguous enough to force the inclusivity. So much so that, when in need of an exclusive form, we have come up with “xor” in logic and computing. In language, we sometimes use “either/or” to mean the exclusive form (personally, when meaning alternatives I try and always [all times] explicitly use “and/or” and/or “either/or” [which is to say that each time I use "and/or" either/or "either/or"]).

Now, does this tells us something about “either”? The fact that “either/or” means exclusion could potentially suggest that “either” is exclusive (as in “one of two” above). But if that was (not were) the case, then we would just use “either” for exclusive alternatives, and there would be no need for “either/or”.

So I posit that our use of “either/or” is just a contraction of “either…or”. And this would suggest that “either” is only exclusive within the “either…or” construction. By exclusion, then, “either” is inclusive (just as “or”).

I.e. the “one of two” version of “either” is incomplete without the “…or” (an incomplete usage contraction, albeit from the 14th c), but not *wrong* (and the “each of two” = “each and/or both” is *right*).

(And in another personal p/reference, I always use the isolated “either” in the “each of two” sense.)

TL

Posted by tlajous at July 16, 2009 02:03 PM

Running the risk that I end up being lambasted by my amateurship…

I’m not so sure about “amateurship”. You seem at least to have mastered the style of the Sphinx. I find it very difficult to make out what you’re saying, from sentence to sentence. Each sentence is shrink-wrapped so indestructibly and tightly around its meaning that I can’t prise it open – like the plastic wrapping around small electronic equipment nowadays, in Germany at any rate. ´

As Huck said: “the statements was interesting, but tough”. I think that I disagree with you at almost every point, but I’m not sure. Let me just start at the beginning of your post and comment on a few sentences, one by one:

In Spanish, “or” can be “o” or “ó”. The diacritical accent turns the inclusive form “o” into the exclusive form “ó”.

This is the only statement I clearly understand, but I just as clearly don’t believe it, off the bat. Granted, my Spanish is nowhere near perfect, but having read a lot of Spanish over decades I’ve never encountered such a convention, and I can’t find anything about it in my grammars or on the internet, for instance in the Diccionario de la Real Academia Española.

What I did find (remembered only vaguely) is this, where the accent is used to distinguish the letter “o” from the zero numeral “0″, when the letter has numbers on each side:

O / Ó

Esta conjunción disyuntiva (que indica alternancia), únicamente será tildada cuando se encuentren números alrededor. Esto sirve para evitar la ambigüedad con el número “0” dada su similitud en forma: “¿Eran 2 ó 3 personas?”.

Perhaps you generalized from this, understanding it in the following way: it doesn’t make sense to ask “were there 2 or 2 persons present?” When used with numbers, “or” makes sense only when the numbers are different. So when “or” appears between two numbers, it “has the exclusive form”. The same would apply to “ó” between two numbers. But it is illicit to generalize to “ó” between any two nouns, because the use of “ó” is explicitly restricted to the “surrounded by numbers” situation (únicamente), and is intended as an aid to reading, not as a tool of logic.

And in any case, “A or B” cannot possibly mean “both A and B, if you so desire” when A is incompatible with B. “To be, or not to be? That is the question”. The answer to that was not, and could not have been: “take both, silly!”.

In English, and I think there’s some discussion here, “or” is always inclusive (meaning “and/or”)—and/or, at least, it is ambiguous enough to force the inclusivity.

I suspect many English-speaking Americans are not accustomed to interpreting “you can have A or B” as implying that they can have both if they so desire. It’s a question of actual usage to be determined statistically, not a question of principle (unless you have PRESCIPTIVIST tendencies). What does “ambiguous enough to force the inclusivity” mean? As a rule, ambiguity does not force anything. On the contrary, it leaves things up in the air.

So much so that, when in need of an exclusive form, we have come up with “xor” in logic and computing.

Now, from my knowledge of the history of mathematical logic, the reason for introducing the “xor” operator, in contrast to what had been called the “or” operator, was precisely to circumvent the ambiguity of “or” in actual English speech, and arguments about ‘the real meaning of “or”‘. With “xor” and “ior” at your disposal, there’s no longer any need to argue. In each context, you specify the operator that does what you intend.

In language, we sometimes use “either/or” to mean the exclusive form (personally, when meaning alternatives I try and always [all times] explicitly use “and/or” and/or “either/or” [which is to say that each time I use "and/or" either/or "either/or"])

I broke my hedge-trimming shears on that sentence, trying to get it open.

Posted by Grumbly Stu at July 16, 2009 04:40 PM

GS – Thanks!

o versus ó

Post-reading your post and checking the RAE, I have become para(e)noid. I am a native Spanish speaker, so I think it’s not that I misunderstood the RAE… It now appears as if I’ve just gone and entirely made this up!

And/or maybe this is an example of sollipsistic usage… Well, at least of ultra-localized (or just technical) usage. I’ve never looked up the exclusivity of ó that I can remember—in a big mea culpa confession. It’s always been a natural convention for me, and comes from days before the Internet allowed for proper sourcing.

My latest, rather than earliest, recollection of a discussion was precisely in re: English’s lack of linguistic (as opposed to logistic) xor. It was in a group of group theorists and none griped. I am a mathematician, and in the School of Sciences, we all used ó as xor (and sneered at the travails of English-speaking group-ers when fumbling for a natural exclusive construction that avoided the logician’s). At the time in question, I was explaining the English “or” (as I thought my English was better than that of most of my peers, and they haphazardly—it now seems—agreed).

**”A or B” cannot possibly mean “both A and B, if you so desire”** (Please excuse my use of ** as I don’t know how to italicize.)

I think they can, and therein lies part of the issue. If I were to ask you to dinner I could say “please let me know of any preference for location or cuisine”. If I used “and”, I would be indicating that I expect “both” a neighborhood and a culinary choice. By using “or”, I allow you to choose to voice an inclination for one, the other, and/or both. If I was of the type that insists on absolute(-ist) fairness, I would need xor to say that you had to opt for an end-geography and I would then decide on the origin-geography, xor vice-versa. I guess this can fall outside the use of “or” for alternatives, so the other example is that when we go “you can have meat, potatoes, or fruit”.

**”ambiguous enough to force the inclusivity”**

As you well point out, Hamlet allowed his context to define the exclusivity. And most times that works. But by the above I mean that since “or”‘s exclusivity or inclusivity is context-dependent, and in some cases the context leaves the ambiguity open (as in our dinner), then the natural form is inclusive (or we would go insane). [As the inclusive form includes in correct context the exclusive but the opposite does not hold. In a sense, the inclusive for "is larger".]

**With “xor” and “ior” at your disposal, there’s no longer any need to argue.**

In Logic there is no need to argue, granted (or I could say that there is always need to argue, just not for this). My point exactly is that English (as opposed to logician-English) has no such operators and so we need use “or” = “and/or” = ior and “either/or” = xor when we want to make sure the inclusivity and/or exclusivity is explicit.

On the more marginal

**unless you have PRESCIPTIVIST tendencies). **

I am not of a PRESCRIPTIVIST bend, or so I hope (hence my “not *wrong*”). Just seeing the word in caps makes me feel like I am watching a trailer for LH vs DFW Redux…

**
I broke my hedge-trimming shears on that sentence, trying to get it open.**

Let me try and explain my convoluted writing (though I can’t say that as for my convoluted self):

we sometimes use “either/or” — I.e. as if it was a word.

I try and always [all times] explicitly use “and/or” and/or “either/or” — Every time I mean choice, when “or” is normally used, I *substitute* “or” for something else. that something else is sometimes “and/or”, sometimes “either/or”. So, in general, I use one “ior” the other.

which is to say that each time I use “and/or” either/or “either/or” — But each specific time, I cannot use both; each sepcific time I *substitue* “or”, I use one “xor” the other.

**You seem at least to have mastered the style of the Sphinx…. **

You’ve just given brilliant wordsmith ammunition to every significant other that, in looking for signifiance if my insignificant prose that was meant to convey my heart-felt but locked-in significatum, decided I was too obscure… and dumped me.

TL

Posted by tlajous at July 16, 2009 11:31 PM

In Spanish, “or” can be “o” or “ó”. The diacritical accent turns the inclusive form “o” into the exclusive form “ó”.

My Hispanic students say no; it’s only used for numbers. They agree with Grumbly. Example–the numbers 9 or 10:
In words: nueve o diez
In numerals: 9 ó 10

And this would suggest that “either” is only exclusive within the “either…or” construction.

What about this example: “You can plant the tree on either side of the gate.”

the reason for introducing the “xor” operator, in contrast to what had been called the “or” operator, was precisely to circumvent the ambiguity of “or” in actual English speech,

Not quite. They describe computer gates–electrical circuits, if you will–with exact outputs which are described by a “truth table”. The output of an “or” gate is either a one or a zero–that is, either on or off-depending on the inputs. Only one input has to be a one to get a one at the output. If both inputs are one, the output is still one. If both inputs are zero, however, the output is zero.

The “exclusive or” gate is slightly different in that a one at both inputs will produce a zero at the output. You must have a one at one input or the other but not both in order to get a one output.

I broke my hedge-trimming shears on that sentence, trying to get it open.
How about this: “You can have either the chocolate cake or the chocolate ice cream.” “You can have the chocolate cake and/or the chocolate ice cream.” …ooooorrrrrr…(back to the exclusive “either”) “You can have either piece of cake.” “You can have either kind of ice cream.”

Posted by Nijma at July 16, 2009 11:36 PM

Nijma -

**What about this example: “You can plant the tree on either side of the gate.”**

See above on Hamlet.

**They describe computer gates**

That came after both the chickena dn the egg. The truth table pre-dates computer gates. It’s from our friend Frege, I think. It permeates Fregean logic and then moves to language, and appears in THE Tractatus, etc. Within mathematics (which also serves to give context to my usage of the exclusive ó), the “xor” operator generates a group and the “or” operator does not. (Hence the discussion among group theorists, where “ó” generates a group and “o” doesn’t.) The electrical/computer circuitry is just an application… And if you follow the truth tables, you get to exactly the meaning I posit above. I am basically saying tha the truth table for English-”or” and “either” is the same as that for Logician-”or” and to force the “xor” truth table, the “either…or” construction is necessary.

TL

Posted by tlajous at July 17, 2009 12:05 AM

UPDATE:

I am basically saying tha the truth table for English-”or” and “either” is the same as that for Logician-”or” and to force the “xor” truth table, the “either…or” construction is necessary.

TL, now I understand what you mean!! I did have the distinct suspicion that Anglophone utility-shed Grumbly was up against Hispanic baroque-chapel TL. No offense meant with the Sphinx: it does have a fascinating expression on its face.

For text in italics, type this: <i>text</i> This site supports basic HTML tags.

xor generates a group. How curious! Can you give a brief description? There are a few mathematicians floating around here (I am 1/4 of one), so it would be of some interest, even though not general interest.

Posted by Grumbly Stu at July 17, 2009 01:04 AM

tlajous,
Before Frege, Boolean algebra (I’m more on the practical side), but yes, an apt parallel to the either~or language question.

And this would suggest that “either” is only exclusive within the “either…or” construction. By exclusion, then, “either” is inclusive (just as “or”).

“You can plant the tree on either side of the gate.”

“Either” used by itself in my gate/tree example above (chosen for its parallel with the “There is a tree on either side of the gate” example further upthread) is exclusive. The Hamlet example was about “or”, and there it’s used with “be”–it’s like pregnancy, you’re either dead or you’re not. If you wanted to test whether “either” is inclusive, you would need an example with no contextual clues that was not ambiguous.

Most of the usual codes work here. For italics:

<i> to begin italics

</i> to close italics

Posted by Nijma at July 17, 2009 01:16 AM

Thanks for the italics tip, my only meta-language is LATEX.

How curious! Can you give a brief description?

I’ll back up. Using Rotman’s excellent An Introduction to the Theory of Groups (it’s in Amazon, but one day I’ll learn to add links, I’ll stick to italics for now):

“A semigroup (G,*) is a non-empty set G equipped with an associative operation *.”
AND
“A group is a semigroup G containing an element e such that: (i) e*a = a = a*e for all a in G; (ii) for every a in G there is an element b in G with a*b = e = b*a.”

(We could go into the differing usage of all and every in here…)

Use the set {Y,N} (where Y is “yes” and N is “no”) with the operator xor. Then we must only show that it needs no parens when we compose it. Hhhhmmm, now, Y xor Y = Y, N xor N = N, Y xor N = Y, and N xor Y = Y. Then we only need show that for any three operands this (the no-need for parens) holds (as there are only two elements in the set). And it’s easy to do explicitly, so I’ll leave it to you. So xor generates a semigroup. Now e (the identity) is Y because Y xor Y = Y = Y xor Y and Y xor N = Y = N xor Y. And b (the inverse), is N for Y, as Y xor N = Y = N xor Y, and Y for N as N xor Y = Y = Y xor N. Note that I seem to be repetitive because we have not shown commutatitvity (i.e. a*b = b*a). But that one, I think, is clear and trivial from the truth table (Y xor N = N xor Y) and from the fact that the definition of e already showed it for all elements in G as there are only two. So the group is in fact, abelian (every pair commutes).

Now, try the same with or. It’s clearly a semi-group as it is associative (more easily shown than for xor, again, doing so explicitly in sets of three is the fastest route). But with or, there is no identity: it cannot be Y as Y or N = Y, and it cannot be N as if it was, then Y would have no inverse.

And that’s where my ó versus o comes from…

TL

Posted by tlajous at July 17, 2009 01:51 AM

Nijma -

you would need an example with no contextual clues that was not ambiguous

If there is such a thing as an ambiguous example, then it is inclusive. See above on how inclusivity is larger than exclusivity (which intuitively makes sense too).

Before Frege, Boolean algebra

On Boole, I can just say that I drool…

TL

Posted by tlajous at July 17, 2009 02:03 AM

INTRA-UPDATE:

Much has happenned at Languagehat (which I’ll add to this post later), but I was really on the verge of getting pummelled. Phew!, am happy to have just read (about me) that GS “even wondered briefly whether a real mathematician would flub such a simple example. Only later did I go sleuthing on the net to find out who he was, and had to slink back home wet and bedraggled. And he did say later that it was only a typo …”

Did the bird just happen to shit on my hand, or was it because my hand was holding The Believer #63 that a bird shat on it?

I truly do wonder.

En cuanto al porqué (no me meto al de la responsabilidad del anulista, dónde tal vez estoy en mayor desacuerdo; tampoco me meto a las distinciones deportivas porque creo en la definición básica de la democracia mexicana que en el derecho a “votar y ser votado” establece que todos los deportes son iguales [aunque nada es como los momentos Federer del 5 de julio])…

Creo que hay confusión c/r/a el punto de Andrés de la información. Más que la info partidos > elector (de los partidos, vía los mecanismos sancionados, al elector), la info más relevante en una elección es elector > partidos y elector > otros-electores. Al yo votar por el PT, la información que envío es ambivalente. No se puede distinguir si estoy comprometido con la causa del PT o me parece el proverbial “menos peor”. Al votar por el PT no mando información. Al anular, estoy mandando un mensaje muy claro: “no estoy de acuerdo con ninguno”.

Es clave el discurso de code name V en V for Vendetta (el libro, no la bland-as-fuck version de los bland-as-fuck Wachowski):

The Management is terrible! We’ve had a string of embezzelers, frauds, liars and lunatics making a string of catastrophic decisions. This is plain fact. But who elected them? It was you! You who elected these people! You who gave them the power to make your decisions for you! While I’ll admit that anyone can make a mistake once, to go on making the same lethal errors century after century seems to me nothing short of deliberate. You have encouraged these malicious incompetents, who have made your working life a shambles. You have accepted without question their senseless orders. You have allowed them to fill your workspace with dangerous and unproven machines. You could have stopped them. All you had to say was “No”.

Al anular, estamos finalmente diciendo “no”. Al votar por el “menos peor” o no votar, estamos tácitamente aceptando la responsabilidad de sus actos, como recalca mi amigo Moore en la cita de arriba. El sistema de partidos, en particular post-reforma 2007, nos ha quitado la oportunidad de decir que “no” de otra forma. Y el no decir “no” es cooperar. El no anular es complicidad.

El riesgo que corro usando a code name V es claro: ser tachado de anarquista. Cosa que evidentemente (al menos para ti, que me conoces) no soy. Ni siquiera pretendo ser un anarquista filosófico que cree que el Estado está, por construcción, falto de autoridad moral. Sí creo, sin embargo, que los partidos actuales están completamente desprovistos de cualquier autoridad (y/o capacidad) moral. Te sugiero una variante, el arquismo (igual del griego archê, aunque sé que la construcción no existe) que sí cree en la necesidad de un “soberano”, pero no el actual (los partidos); de un líder de Estado, pero no los actuales (donde incluyo al IFE). La siguiente derivada, entonces, es el arquismo filosófico (contrapunto al anarquismo filosófico), que cree en la inexistencia de autoridad moral en el sistema actual pero que (a clara diferencia de code name V) no apoya una revolución para acabar con él.

¿Qué instrumento tengo entonces para promover el cambio sistémico? El voto. Ahora, como el sistema electoral sufre de una captura regulatoria fundamental, mi tache por una de las opciones que encuentro en la boleta no avanza la causa arquista. La reacción tradicional a decir esto es que entonces tengo que participar en un partido, movimiento, asociación, ONG, o whatever… No. Me uno aquí a los panarquistas al decir que me opongo a la obligatoriedad de la participación. Quiero participar, pero quiero hacerlo con mi voto.

Al votar nulo, reconozco que por una supletoriedad perversa del sistema (OK, ya sé que estuvimos y estaremos lejos de lograr una mayoría relativa de nulos y que entonces esto es un poco exagerado), gobernará el PRI o el PAN o el PRD o algún otro, cuando todos son de entrada “continuistas” del sistema que han capturado. Y que gobernará alguien que no es el “menos peor”, sino tal vez el “peor”. Al votar nulo, acepto que no estoy participando en foros públicos (recuerda, soy medio panarquista en esto) ni a través de los mecanismos expeditos (que no me dan acceso, ni quiero). Al votar nulo no estoy denunciando. Estoy eligiendo. Estoy eligiendo, a través de la info que envío, un cambio sistémico.

No estoy apelando al sentido de la responsabilidad de los partidos. Estoy usando el mecanismo de transmisión de información al que tengo acceso y que es el más efectivo: el voto. Y estoy transmitiendo información importante: quiero un cambio sistémico. A lo que apelo es al anhelo de poder de los mismo partidos. A su glotonería, avidez, codicia, y gula. Mi voto está aquí. Me importa y lo quiero usar. Mi voto (personalizando el 6% nulo) le puede dar la Presidencia en el 2012 a alguno de los partidos. Un partido puede dedicarse los próximos tres años a averiguar qué quiero, a pensar en como cambiar el sistema actual. Entonces llega al 2012 con una propuesta con la cual puedo estar de acuerdo. Y gana mi voto que define la elección. Los otros partidos piensan lo mismo. Y entonces todos tratan de buscar atraerme como votante. Escogerán algunas cosas que me gusten y les parezcan palatable (ya sabes que el español se me complica). Es un ejercicio en teoría de juegos. Es un voto de esperanza en que podemos cambiar el sistema. Y en que podemos hacerlo con el voto.

Porque la otra opción, la cínica que queda implícita en el desdén en contra de la anulación es que es un dilema de prisionero [recursivo]. Uno en el cual los partidos son un ente que decide no cooperar con los electores [un ente conformado por los partidos en si, que deciden cooperar entre ellos]. Y que sigue sin cambiar sin importar si fueron electos con millones de votos o nada más con los de ellos mismos. Si realmente ese es el caso, anularé mi voto de nuevo en el 2012. Y en el 2015. Y en el… Hasta que no. Hasta que me dé cuenta de que con el cinismo me han quitado la anulación como forma de decir “no”. Ese es el momento en el cual mi arquismo pasa de filosófico a revolucionario. Ese es el momento en que me uno a la Comandanta Esther…

<<Ps …y me acabo de acordar, y entonces, acelerado, y sin puntos, pero con algunos respiros, señalo que, por más que sea cursi y mala, hay una película de Kevin Costner, Swing vote, que peca de todos lo errores inlcluyendo el mal-uso de los derechos básicos, y el mis-uso del nulo, y el conf-uso de la fuente de anulación, pero cuya premisa fundamental encapsula el valor informacional básico del voto nulo, y se convierte en una parábola del uso del voto nulo como herramienta para resolver el dilema del prisionero entre el elector y los elegibles enraizado en el sistema de partidos…>>

Y el voto de mi primo (@leblog):