accuracy /ˈakyərəsē/

Truth: the most dangerous word.

What is truth?

What is truth but any damn thing heard which does not conflict with any damn thing we happened to hear on a previous day, at least as far as our individual subjective accounting is concerned? How blind are we willing to be in order to keep our task of thinking simple?

We call things true because we see apparently logical connections between they and other things we labelled true and because it suits our selfish interests to assume them true.

But the web of causality is unfathomably massive; its threads everywhere; the flow of its threads so often unapparent in their direction. Any picture you want can be imagined from them, like ice cream castles in the clouds. Soft, dull, stunted thinking summons any desired result.

In reality we know nothing to be true except that which we have consistently experienced and that which we have extrapolated from said experience with the purest and most thorough application of logic and, above all, with the courage to accept the most dire of possible outcomes. Integrity does not trump fear. Only those with the strength to shed fears can know truth.

But such pristine accounting does not happen here in a society that does not require truth, nor regard it nor reward it. The games we are addicted to do not support the pursuit of real truth nor leave us time for it so long as we are slave to the matrix.