[This post is labeled בבל, meaning it's especially experimental. See: בבל disclaimer ] I seem to have always already lost my wife. I do wonder where she is. I assume she doesn't know where I am, or else she would have returned to me, although——not being able to imagine that she's dead or nonexistent or otherwise radically disempowered——I also eventually come to wonder if she's forsaken me, which choice I would naturally be required to have made myself enough apparently separate to pretend acceptance of, at least long enough for her to depart. Sadly I have also forgotten where she might be, and what she looks like, and worst of all, the sound of her voice murmuring something secret in my ear. I've even forgotten her name. Did it start with a J? Maybe an M? an A? Or was it a $\daleth$ or an Л? I don't remember.  We can be quite sure it doesn't start with an $\aleph$, since she's kind and patient. She likes lemons and she likes the feel of rock on her sk...

A voyage of novelty is fraught. If a mind takes a voyage of novelty, an observer is hard pressed to understand what the growing mind is thinking or what effects the growing mind will have on the world.

A mental element has to be open to revision, and so it has to be treated as though it might be revised.

Explicitness is out-foldedness. An element of a mind is explicit when it is available to relate to other elements when suitable.