Shouts From Down Under

The original origin of orality, o'right?

After studying cats, our various house pets, over a number of decades where as humans, we submitted ourselves to them, were given tacit permission to use their homes, their refridgerators, apart from a small space for their carton of milk, and another space for their carton of cat pellets near the back door, I have come to a couple of conclusions.

One, the most important, and most dangerous if overlooked, is the fact that we don't own cats.

I'm certain that most people have worked this out anyway. We don't own the feline specie. They own us. We only continue to live and inhabit their social bubble because their decision was munificent and casually benevolent.

The other thing I've managed to meow about, relevant to cats, is that their tail is an extension of their thoughts.
Next time you are sitting sipping on a sumptious cappucino of the skinny low fat milk varienty in an eat-in mug, and observing a cat nearby, just if you happen to be, well you'll see. You'll see it for yourself. Oh yes you will. And I'll say I told you so.
When it thinks, its tail twitches.

Much like human thought, the cats thoughts aren't always clear or fully formed, or logical. It is not because their mind is blank. Far from it.

This lack of thought just means that nothing in our world, meaning us humans, is important enough for their mind to deliberately dwell on ordinary trivial stuff for long.

When their head is empty of thought, in these cases, their tail doesn't have any expression, therefore no movement.

But, those emotions and thoughts such as happiness (tail sticks straight up), unhappiness (tail is folded around and down under between their legs), and there is the switched off time of being asleep (the tail curls softly around in a perfectly gentle parabolic curve to match their underbelly furry bits)

Then, there is anger. (tail twitches, from the tiny barely discernable flicker, to large fluffed up swishes, where attack, or clawing defence is imminent.
Their eyes have a direct connection to the communication rendered by movements of the tail.
The happless rescipient of this raw but clearly defined angry data upload, especially if it is to the facial extremities, or any other sensitive skin surface, the receiver of the free shredding session will be in no doubt of the cats towering, fiery and spitting form of displeasure.)

There is another expression that cats display, using this gauge, this single indicator needle, this long middle finger of diversivolence, this balancing mechanism, this gyroscopic, multi-jointed limb called a tail.

And that is fright. You can easily imagine the splayed legs and tail, furr extended as if the poor kitty had been connected efficiently somehow, to the house power supply.

The tail can be straight up, with the small dot underneath, the waste product emmision vent whose location illustrates to us where for the writers, the users of written language have for many eons of time, used this very expression in their pieces of literature. They argue over its placement of course, but no one can surely deny, that the cat's tail, with it's underscoring dot must, can only be expressing fright and therefore represent...

the exclamation mark !

World English Dictionary
orality (ɔːˈrælɪtɪ)
— n
1. the quality of being oral
2. a tendency to favour the spoken rather than the written form of language.

I mean, you don't see someone pausing in an argument to grab a pen and a notebook, to scribble down their freakin reply to the provocative attack on their person by the hostile rival.
The argumentative person waits as they see the words for that their assaultee is carefully writing, the neatness just an indicator how cheesed off said author is, making sure that their auditory output is made clearer by the impression scribbled on the white receiving medium called paper.

That ectoplasmic substratum on which everything must be put, something to hang life's events upon, the living wall of the universe's matrix, on which our every moment of time has it's colours painted and thrown; the recording structure of memories.

What a load of rubbish! Is it? Can we say it simpler.

Our written symbols, I think , come from real life events that made such an impression on enough people over time, that they became not just an expression, but a written interpretation of that which is imagined, felt, sensed, experienced in non tangible form.

The gas condensed, formed a liquid, then became a solid.

Thoughts became words that became writing that were read and became an action.

Sparky