Is Beyessing the Same as Fornoing? A Bewildering Tale about Soom and Missoom (in Anglish)

Warning:

Remark: Anglish is the right shape of the English speech cleansed of words that have been brought into English by the clout of speech-imperialism (such as “spirit”) and that have unrightfully taken the place of truly English words (like “gast”). In Anglish, truly English words have taken their rightful place back. However, words that have come in peacefully, such as “wiki” and “zero”, are not cast out the Anglish speech, for they enrich it rather than oppress it. I believe that Anglish is more about wielding right English, including proper English words, than it is about not using foreign ones – that it is more about language-freeing than language-purism. A great spring for Anglish, one from which I have learned many Anglish words, is the wiki The Anglish Moot, in particular its English Wordbook and its page Craftspeakon technical language. For a lead-in to Anglish, ye can learn more from the Anglish Moot’s leaf What is Anglish?. Other very useful resources for those interested in Anglish are, among many others, the wordbooks Wiktionary and Bosworth Toller’s Anglo-Saxon online dictionarysince they have a lot of info about Old English words.

Charlie besought his two friends Alice (nickname; her full calling-name is “?????????????”) and Bob (nickname; his full calling-name is “???????????????”) to frealse their birthday on the 31^st day of October, and he gifted them a trampoline. Alice tried it out before her brother Bob. To hinder her smartphone from falling out her pocket while she was jumping, she gave it to her brother with the words: “I beg thee to keep my smartphone safe, but do not play around with it!”

“Okeydokey!” said Bob.

Alice got onto the trampoline and began jumping. Charlie went off to a nearby beed to chat a little with the akends of his two friends. Now Bob was quite a nerdy kid, hure regarding reckonillore and flitecraft, and so it happened that as soon as no-one was beholding him, he switched his sister’s smartphone on and started rooting it. He was so endeepened in his work that he didn’t bemark when the noises of the trampoline-springs stopped and Alice said: “It’s thy turn now, Bob”. He raised his gaze only when an upset Alice stood before him, poked him with her finger, and said: “What art thou doing there?”

“I’m tweaking thy phone”, answered Bob with faked guiltlessness in his steven, but his eyes twinkled with shabernack.

Alice said in a raised steven: “Look at me! Haven’t I told thee not to play around with my phone?”

“Yep, and here I am and have played around with thy smartphone”, said Bob. “I’ve done narrowkirily that what thou hast bid me do.”

“What?!” said Alice louder than before.

The edgy stevens drew Charlie’s heed, but Alice and Bob’s mother forsikered him at once: “Don’t worry, for they are twins after all and so squabble all the time.”

“Even linked twins, mind thou”, at-eked their father.

For beyond the deedsake that the two ?ithers?akas were selfsame twins, they have an odd and rounful bond that always links them – both echely and before and after embodying –, so that they are outright twins. (But what was that again – a lad and a lass are one-yokefrume-y twins? Well, yes; the kyn-bestevening huekern of the fraw-frume of their father which be?ovested their mother’s egg-frume was in a lay of over?ayering between Y (manly) and X (womanly), so the yoke-frume and its daughter-frumes were also in a state of over?ayering between manly (XY) and womanly (XX). The wightblossom thus over?ayering clove itself totally samemetishly into two wightblossoms entangled with each other whose shared úpmake was in a lay of over?ayering between XX-XY and XY-XX. The self-linking and self-linked soul and the ?ics (which are linked with each other) of the twins clove-ín that lay of over?ayering in such a way that Bob got the manly and Alice the womanly wightblossom, for Bob always stands his ground on getting a manly body to go with his manly ?ic. Alice also forechooses to get a womanly body to go with her rather womanly ?ic, but this has nothing to do with her hvatr drengr wist.)

“I know that,” said Charlie laughing, “and I also know that nearness can bring about edginess. Furthermore, that these two ‘froes’ are my friends shows that friendship is no transitive, th.i. [ð.i., that is] over?hrithol [tilting to over?tep], beteeing.”

Then he at-eked: “Nevertheless, it rings a little fraught this time; let me go to them!”

He went to the trampoline and asked the twins what the matter was.

“We see things úndershedlily from each other;” said Alice, “we misforewyrd on whether Bob has done beteeingwise not done with my phone what I wanted him to do beteeingwise not do.”

Bob nodded and said: “Narrowkirily; we two forewyrd on the deedsake that I have done exactly what she wanted me to do.”

“Heck, we don’t even forewyrd on whether we forewyrd”, awithered Alice.

“That’s true; we fully forewyrd on the deedsake that we forewyrd”, said Bob.

A sainess of bewilderment showed up on Charlie’s anlet, and he said: “Tell me, oh Alice, what thou’st bid thy brother do beteeingwise not do, and tell me, oh Bob, what thou’st done beteeingwise not done!”

“I have asked him to keep my phone siker and not meddle with it”, answered Alice.

“And I have done narrowkirily what she has begged of me: I have kept her phone safe and rooted it”, said Bob, grinning.

Charlie’s bewilderment got greater. Wending to Bob, he said: “I don’t understand that at all – she has forbidden thee to play around with her phone, and yet thou art stolt of having meddled with it.”

Bob sweetled: “The thing is very onefold: Alice has told me that she wants me not to play around with her phone, and that means that she wants me to play around with it; for for?oing is the same as beýessing, and so bebidding is also the same as forbidding.”

Alice put her hands on her hips, shook her head, and said: “No, dear friend, beýessing is iwis not the same thing as for?oing.”

Bob nodded and said: “Yes, beýessing and for?oing are indeed not the same thing, and thus, they are the same thing. Thou hast for?oed the sameness of beýessing and for?oing, and since there’s no úndershed between beýessing something and for?oing it, thou’st beýessed the sameness of beýessing and for?oing.”

The siblings’ heated flite made their akends come over, too, to find out its ground. The father said: “Charlie’s right; the two of you are fighting hure loudly today. Why?”

Alice answered: “The hang-up doesn’t just lie in the fact that Bob has done with my phone exactly what I had forbidden him to do with it, but also in the deedsake that we don’t even forewyrd on that, and that we misforewyrd on this missoom [misforewyrding], and that we misforewyrd on this – and so on and so forth to the unendly and beyond. This missoom stretches out to what I’m atelling right now and to what Bob is about to thrutch out, too. The weightiest thing is that we misforewyrd on the úndershedliness of beýessing and for?oing; like every normal and witfast lede, I’m wis that they aren’t the same, but Bob reckons them the same. Could ye make this deedsake sweetle to him?”

Bob yawned and said: “Dad, thou seest that our talk is full of nauseating forewyrding, though that can be awaited from a twain of twins linked in ?ic and self, mind, wit, hyge, anget, understanding, shedwiseness, thought, freewill, feeling, soulstirring, awareness/consciousness, soul, gast, and beyond [about the link, Bob was fully right, of course]. Alice onefoldly forewyrds with me in every way. Sunderly, we forewyrd on what I’m thrutching out in this and the foregoing wordsets and also on that which she’s atold. We forewyrd on the deedsake that I have done her bidding, the fact that we forewyrd, and the deedsake that we forewyrd on our soom, and this string goes on to the endless and beyond. The importantest ord is that we forewyrd on the úndershedliness of beýessing and for?oing; like every normal and witfast lede broadly and Alice narrowly, I’m wis that they’re not the same, which means that they are the same. I’ve known all that from the start.”

The twins’ akends were flabbergasted. Bob smiled with stolt and gladness.

Alice smiled shabernacksomely. “Dear brother, shall I slap thee?”

The smile on Bob’s leer went away at once because he knew what was coming. Unsiker, he said: “No”.

“Good!” said Alice. “If that is so and since for?oing is the same as beýessing ...”

She hauled off to strike, but her mother gripped her hand and hindered her from hitting. “No hest in this kneeris!” she said sternly.

“But he’s begged me to do it!”, wended-in Alice.

“Even if that were so, thou wouldstn’t be allowed to fulfill his wish”, replied the mother.

“That’s right,” said the girl, “and since there isn’t any úndershed between beýessing and for?oing, I’m allowed to fulfill his wish.”

Yet she couldn’t free herself from her mother’s grip.

The father put his hands on his head. “Now we’ve got two of the kind!” he said and shook his head.

Charlie now meddled: “But Alice’s way to loosen the problem has besetness; already the great wisdomlova, learned man, healcrafta and leethcraftio Ibn S??n?, also known as ‘Avicenna’, wrote in sidewrit 12 of the eighth chapter of the first offhandling of the Frumshapelore of his book The Healing: ‘But the headstrong one must be made to undergo the burning of fire, since fire and not-fire are one; he must be given ache by hitting him, for ache and not-ache are one; and food and drink must be withh?eld from him, since to eat and drink and to leave them are one’. Perhaps that would be a workol way to healing.”

Alice said: “I hadn’t heard of that piece of info about Ibn S??n? before, but I’ve just asked his ghost, and Charlie is right. So please let me wield my way, which has turned out to be Ibn S??n?’s way as well!” As a sidemark, she marked on: “An utterance like Avicenna’s is also true of those who naysay the therehood of afaringhaps – we thoughtcastas can share these with others and for?iken ours with those of others, by the way –: The one who claims there be no afaringhaps must be burned, beaten, and worked on with middle-agedly tools,” [she winked], “for there is no ache; food and drink must be taken away from him, as hunger and thirst don’t exist; and he must be slighted in the worst mayly way, for since there are no feelings or soulstirrings, his feelings – not being there – can’t be hurt.”

The mother said to her husband: “We need a flitecrafta to loosen this angetly knot; we need thy father.”

“Let me call him!” said the siblings at the same time.

At once, they brooked straight thoughtcasting to sweetle the hang-up (and its not-being-there in the case of Bob) to their grandfather, but they immediately wrestled with each other and wielded their mindly and gasty crafts to sabotage the beteeingwise other’s shot. After a short while, their grandfather came out the house and said: “I haven’t understood much other than that there’s an úndershed in think-so betwixt Alice and Bob which has to do with flitecraft. I want the sake to be sweetled to me in a civilized way; therefore, I ask Charlie.”

The lad told him what had happened. Then said the grandfather: “If I’ve understood the thing rightly, Bob upholds onedom, th.i. the oneness of all, in an orspringly way, and this onedom seems far groundlayinger and rootlier to me than the one which was upheld by the well-known wisdomlovio and leethcrafta Parmenides. So let’s do some fandings to make this ord clearer.” He wended to Bob and asked him: “My boy, have I told thee that the Sun isn’t bigger than a small town?”

Bob said: “But of course not, for the Sun is much bigger than the Earth, and thou knowest that; and since for?oing doesn’t under?hed from beýessing at all – by the way, that means that they do under?hed –, it follows that thou hast clearly said that the Sun is not bigger than a small town.”

The grandfather asked further: “Have I said the wordset ‘The Earth is a cloud’?”

The lad answered: “Thou hastn’t said the wordset ‘The Earth is a cloud’, and thanks to the selfsameness of for?oing and beýessing, thou hast said it after all. Moreover, thou hastn’t said: ‘My granddaughter Alice has said 'Oh Bob, root my smartphone!' and outrightly wanted that my grandson Bob fulfill her wish’. That means, however, that thou hast said: ‘My granddaughter Alice has said 'Oh Bob, root my smartphone!' and outrightly wanted that my grandson Bob fulfill her wish’, for to say and not to say are the same. Thou’rt totally right on that one, of course, for she has said ‘Oh Bob, root my smartphone!’ and wanted me to fulfill her wish indeed.”

Alice againstsaid: “No, neither have I said those words nor have I wanted the wish atold in them to be fulfilled.”

“Right,” said her twin-brother emboldened by the shielding his mother gave him by staying Alice’s hand, “and since beýessing and for?oing are the same, thou’st thus said those words and wanted that the wish thrutched out in them be fulfilled.”

Alice ?ither?poke vehemently: “No; rather, I have said the wordset ‘I beg thee to keep my smartphone safe, but do not play around with it!’”

“That’s true,” said Bob, “and that wordset (‘I beg thee to keep my smartphone safe, but do not play around with it!’) is not the selfsame as the wordset ‘Oh Bob, root my smartphone!’ and thus the selfsame as it.”

The grandfather raised his hand and said: “Let me sweetle: Bob claims the selfsameness of beýessing and for?oing on all meta-levels, ð.i. over-levels/about-levels, and beyond. With that he shows us a problem in the midst of witcraft [flitecraft], namely that under?hedding between for?oing and beýessing on the ware-level needs and hangs off for?oing on the over-level, and that under?hedding between for?oing itself and beýessing itself needs and hangs off for?oing itself. That’s because the identity of ware-for?oing and ware-beýessing is óver-for?oed and the selfsameness of for?oing itself and beýessing itself is utterly for?oed. If for?oing were the same as beýessing, then all things would be one, for otherness is the negation of sameness. In all this, one has to bear in mind that it isn’t just about beyessing and for?oing on the speechly and the ðatþoughtshapy level, but also (and this is very weighty) on the sakebearingly level – though these levels would be one and the same (and the therehood of flitecrafty brookings on the level of sakebearings would be the same as their notðerehood there), of course, if beýessing soothly were the same as for?oing. Thus, what Bob does is the upholding of a rootly shape of onedom. However, while the everyday onedoma for?oes the existence of more than one thing in the gewonely way and brooks flites so as to try to bewise his think-so, Bob upholds both onedom and its witherdeal: manidom. So he shores his fellow forthsettas as well as his witherlings. Why? Because after his onedomly think-so, onedom and manidom are one and the same. Therefore, we can’t worksomely flite against him with speech and flitecraft; for he takes every flite against him as a flite for him since he claims that flites for and flites against are – like everything – the same.”

Bob said with stolt: “Like that, my upholding overtakes every flite in orthink.”

After thinking about the matter for a while, Charlie said: “It seems to me that clean, echt, utter onedom always has to be of the narrowkind upheld by Bob, for it must be?inhold the oneness of beýessing and for?oing and of onedom and manidom as well as of all speechly saynesses and their meanings and of all sakebearings.”

“That’s right”, said the grandfather and then at-eked: “Please be?aught that my forloosening belongs to the see-so of Alice – the wunly lede – and not to Bob’s, and that even what I’ve just said and what I’m saying right now and what I’m about to say belong to Alice’s sightwise. From Bob’s sightwise, however, my forloosening and what I’ve just said and what I’m saying now also belong to his see-so.”

“Exactly,” fuldid Bob, “for my sightwise and that of my sister are one – there’s no undershed betwixt them.”

“No,” againstsaid Alice, “there’s a huge difference between them.”

“Yes,” said Bob, “for undershed and not-undershed are the same.”

“And so on and so forth”, said the grandfather with a sigh.

Then, Alice asked her brother: “Now what if what thou sayest isn’t untrue, but simply unsinny?”

“But of course it’s without any sinn,” said Bob, “because it has very deep meaning, and meaningfulness and meaninglessness are the same thanks to the sameness of beýessing and for?oing. Furthermore, it is neither meaningful nor meaningless, for being meaningful or meaningless is the same as being neither meaningful nor meaningless. This string goes on forever, too, i.e. doesn’t go on forever, ð.i. neither goes on forever nor doesn’t. The saying that I say nonsense is itself unsinny and therefore sinnful, and the claim that this saying is unsinny is in turn sinnful and thus unsinny.”

Then he wended to his friend. “Ask me anything thou choosest, Charlie!”

“Okay – Who was the first Gotish king of Italy?”

“Yes”, answered Bob.

“Thou’st made a groundkindly mistake there;” said Charlie, “for with ‘yes’ (or with ‘no’) one answers only yes/no-askings, but not askings about which lede was or did something. Thou wouldst have answered rightly with ‘Þ?iudar?eiks sa ?ikila’ and ‘Theodoric the Great’ and same-meaning saynesses, and wrongly with ‘??alar?eiks sa F?ruma’ and ‘Alaric I’, for example; yet thy answer is neither right nor wrong, but rather unsinny.”

“That’s true, for the groundkind of yes-no-askings, ð.i. of whether-askings, is one and the same as the groundkind of who-askings and thus not the same as it, and so I have made a groundkind-mistake indeed (ðat is, made none whatsoever). But now I ask thee: Which one is the innermost tungle of our Sunhood?”

“Mercury, of course.”

“Ha! Now thou hast made a groundkindly error, for the groundkind of what-askings is one and the same as itself (the groundkind of what-askings) and therefore not the same as it; yet only what-askings can be meaningfully answered with the sainess ‘Mercury’, but not what-askings, and I have asked thee such a question.”

“How should I have meaningfully answered thy question, then, Bob?”

“With ‘yes’ or with ‘no’, for I haven’t asked thee a what-question, but rather a what-question, and it’s well-known that thanks to the oneness of all, what-questions are the same as whether-askings, which are openseeably answered with ‘yes’ or with ‘no’. Anyway, all groundkinds are one, and to make a mistake is the same as not to make one. In at?eking, time, echeness, all speeches, all speech-games, all deeds, all life-shapes, and all elds are one, ð.i. not one, i.e. both one and not one, ð.i. neither one nor not one, and so all that and some of it and none of it. That follows from the oneness of being the fall and not being the fall, and even if it didn’t, it would still follow from it since following is the same as not following.”

The father looked at the grandfather somewhat redelessly and said: “So what shall we do, father?”

The grandfather said: “One mayly forloosening is the one of Alice and Ibn S??n?, but ye two don’t want it – although if ye ask me, I see nothing wrong with a bit of hitting, for the man must can bear pain as if it were nothing.”

“That may be so,” said the mother, “but we don’t want that way.”

Then tew up a bolt of lightning with a bright flash of light and loud crackling and a bang, and at once an apparition floated aloft before those andward. It was the óutþ?rutch of a gast who had taken a Man-like shape, namely the gast of Alice and Bob’s magish and overnatural bond. Although Charlie and the twins’ akends knew him and even hight him a name, namely “Albert” (because of the names of the siblings), they were startled a little by his órh?oly andwardness and took a few steps back.

With one of his half-creepy stevens, he said in staff-rime [remarks: the upright strokes mark the lifts/beats, which are also marked here with bold casting; a sharp wordstrain-mark ( ? ) beteeingwise (be?iehu?s?eise, bzw.) heavy wordstrain-mark ( ? ) marks the bookstaff at the start of the strongliest beteeingwise twoth-strongliest weighted staffle in a word; the bookstaffs ‘?’/‘?’/‘?’ (as well as the rune looking like ‘?’, which I’ve added to the Fuþark as the zeroth rune and which I call “??anô”) bzw. ‘Þ’/‘þ’ (called “Thorn”) bzw. ‘Ð’/‘ð’ (called “That”) bzw. ‘?’/‘?’ (called “Eng”) stand for the liddengately burstlidden (which in truth starts staffles that appear to begin with selfliddens, as in “old”, in truth “?old”) bzw. the ‘th’-lidden in “thorn” bzw. the ‘th’-lidden in “that” bzw. the ‘ng’-lidden in “thing”; and Albert speaks out the word “one” in the orspringly way, like the first staffle (“on”) in “only”]:

Ðat w?ay might w?ork * quite w?ell wið B?ob,
but ?it w?ould wið m?e * not w?ork ?at ??all,
for f?ree ?i ??am * from f?etters ?of M?an.
G?rip ?or ??unders?tand * the g?ast ?o-??one c?an.
Wið s?tre?gþ ?it w?orkeþ, * ?and s?tern ?is ?its ??oneness.
??onef?old ?and ??eche * ?and ??ever wið?out d?yi?
?it t?akeþ s?hapes ??ap?lenty, * but ?is s?hackled by n?one.
So ?i live s?afely ?and s?oundly * from ðe s?ufferi?s ?of ðe w?orld,
for ??i ?am ??al?ays * ?and ??ever ?a g?ast.

Then, he for?wand as swiftly as he had come.

“Alright,” said the grandfather, “if ye don’t like that way, then there’s another forloosening, one which moreover would be fitting regarding Albert should he choose to take Bob’s side: Alice has to show Bob the úndershed between beýessing and for?oing with thoughtcasting, the straight, gasty, soulish, feelingful, and not-bodily overbringing of thoughts, soulstirrings, feelings and the like. She has to let him see that únders?hed ?????????????????????????????? [?idi gah?ugd?gan? ??augin?], ð.i. with the mind’s eye. Needless to say, Bob would have to allow that. Look: That take-away is that speech is not at all good enough as a means to knowing the truth, and that thoughtcasting is much fadlier for that task instead, and moreover that flitecraft is stinted, too. What one can do with straight thoughtcasting is astonishing: For instance, with its help, one can swinklessly share one’s innermost, cleanly mind-gasty and fully unbodily feelings, soulstirrings, thoughts, ettlings and so forth, among them both angetly knowledge and rouny, gasty and holyworshiply afarings. With it, one can also show others something in a self-theeding and unmisunderstandable way, for example knowhood, wideas [Ideas in the orspringly, platonish sinn], and frums [lordingfrums]. Furthermore, one can wield it to bring about angetly insight in others and oneself, to beswear and be?inflow gasts and the orholy, and broadly to work on the gast-mindy and the hedelike world. Yet one should keep in mind that one cannot speak of what’s soothly weighty about true thoughtcasting, but rather that it is only through thoughtcasting itself that one can share the weightiest boots of thoughtcasting with others. However, one can enrich speech with further means with the help of thoughtcasting, means that wouldn’t be there without it, such as names for things that were unnameable before. Also, please bear in mind that all this here is something said, and that the wordset ‘One can only talk about thoughtcasting in a not enough way’ is itself a speechly gebilth, so that its own scathing is true of itself. And that, too, is by no means enough ...”

“Narrowkirily, grandpa, what thou sayest has very deep meaning – as is thus nothing but nonsense, and not even that”, said Bob and twinked.

What do ye think of this odd thing? Have some of you perhaps even become Bobish onedomas through it? And even if not, have ye perhaps still become Bobish onedomas since being a Bobish onedoma is the same as not being one?