Sport 38: Winter 2010
VI Propositional Calculus
VI Propositional Calculus
The teacher goes to war. Each morning he packs his sandwiches of sarcasm. His classroom is as dark as the soul of a camera. With pinhole eyes the students view an inverted world. At night his hunger fumbles for the shutter of sleep.
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The logic of snow forms a white syllogism on the peaks.
The law has been if p then q.
He has wobbled off the narrow white line.
Now if not p then not q.
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She is the colour of chalk. A kind of algebra dressed in short skirts. As she approaches his red ink quickens. He is as serious as spectacles and his mouth forms a little 'o'. It is apparent that the equation they are writing has no solution.