The irrelevance of description

[Takeda Shingen]

Hot n The absence of cold
Cold n The absence of heat

We live in a climate [no pun] of absolutism. Our popular societal theory holds that if a thing exists, then it exists in a sole capacity. That is, a thing cannot be what a thing is not. A thing cannot be both light and dark. It cannot be both heavy and light. It cannot be both true and false. Therefore, the collective mind of the populace dispenses relativism, herald of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, to the collective waste bin of philosophical abstraction. There it will lie until recirculated again, for there is nothing new in philosophy, education, or politics.

And yet, an elephant sits in the living room. As noun and adjective, it lays: A pox on speech. A destroyer of timeliness, a cancerous anachronism that threatens the very fabric of idealistic communication; the relationship between hot and cold flies there. It is a model of relativism, constantly locked in it's symbiotic relationship: Flitting about here and there, always changing, never constant. As such, we must examine it's properties so that cucumvention would be possible.

What is cold? Cold may be well be defined as being lower than human body temperature. However, we immediately find that this definition is far too narrow, for what if the recipient of this cold is not human, and thus, has a different body temperature? It contains a different level of 'hotness', and as such, a different version of 'coldness'. Herein lies the problem: One term is only applicable when related directly with the other. In other words, hot is only as hot as it is relative to cold. The same works in the opposite direction.

Death Valley, California is one of the 'hottest' areas on earth. Let us assume, however, that you have spent the last year living on the surface of the sun. Upon moving to Death Valley, are you not tempted to cover yourself in layers, don your parka, and shout, "I freeze here! Will you not turn on the heat? It is cold." By standards, it is unquestionably true. In the same vein, if I were to spend a year frozen in an antarctic glacier, would I complain of the 'cold' of the Pennsylvanian winter?

In the cases of the relative, are they both not beyond the bounds of human body temperature? Do they not fit the definition of both? Yes, and no. For hot is only as hot as cold is cold. Yet, we know that this is not possbile, for relativism is a thing of the distant past: No longer fashionable in philosophy. What, then, is man to do? The answer lies in discomfort; in this case, most litterally.

What do hot and cold hold in common? That is, their effect on the human skin. Both degenerate the cellular structure of our epidermis. Of course, heat, which releases the potential energy of matter into light, heat and smoke, does this differently than cold, which solidifies the liquid matter of the cell. None-the-less, the effect is the same for man, who is equally uncomfortable with both heat and cold. It is in this that we have our answer: Uncomfortable.

A simple word. An obvious description. A grail of shining gold, something is either comfortable, or it is not. You either have a knife stuck in your flesh, or you do not; there are no degrees in between. Therefore, we must change our language to end confusion. There will be no more, "I had better get my coat. It is cold outside". Nay, the better is, "I had better get my coat. It is uncomfortable outside." "Jimmy, don't touch that stove, it is uncomfortable." "Wait a few minutes before you check the motor oil. You need to given the engine time to become more comfortable."

In such, we keep our objectivity squarely in hand. Relativity, the beast of the Enlightenment, is kept on it's chain, and interpretation, the fruit of relativism, is cut from the mainstream. Our speech becomes more efficient, more meaningful, more timely. We bravely, then, step out of the caverns of interpretation into the beautiful gleaming light of a world free of abstraction. 'Hot' and 'cold' have given way to 'yes' and 'no'.