I have some self-awareness about my speaking rhythm. Considering this isn’t purely for myself, locked away in a closet journal, when typing these words, I do try to read from a stranger’s perspective. I have made choices and cuts, so although my text still appears unrestrained in length, this is already after some trimming.

At work I was required to read training materials that mentioned how our data privacy services, no matter how thoughtfully considered, are still compromises under current circumstances. My words are probably the same.

Getting to the point, I’ve previously written some crude words about what constitutes “understanding” (perhaps they’ll be moved here someday). Setting aside whether the reasoning is coherent or not, I mention this to say I’ve thought a little about “understanding.” Most basically, for someone to say they understand something, there needs to be at least a subject and an object. “I understand the wind” - such a sentence already has a mystical flavor, since wind can’t refute it. Then someone says I understand the person who said that sentence. This becomes even more of a metaphysical problem. Though it sounds strange, examples like “I understand the wind” aren’t uncommon in life - “wind” can be replaced with any artistic work, and that sentence itself can be replaced with any artistic work. Perceptive readers should see I’m trying to organize rather than complicate things, but no matter how I argue, the above organization is surely ineffective - after all, everything becoming more complex through organization goes against intuition. My intention is to point out that this characteristic of becoming more complex through organization is a major feature of “understanding.” When I say I get it, you’d better just nod. If you ask what I understand or where I get it, I’m afraid I’ll have to fabricate a bunch of inhuman reasoning with the psychology of not wanting to disappoint your expectations. This is exhausting for both parties, so we should nod more.

Building on the previous paragraph, I think I’ve roughly depicted that “understanding” is actually very difficult to achieve. If the object of understanding is another person, I’m afraid only genuine shared experiences between two people can provide a little possibility for “understanding.” Even if two people rode the same roller coaster together, their experiences would necessarily be different. But if we still insist that “understanding” is impossible in such situations, then perhaps the word “understanding” should be deleted from the dictionary. Using language is compromise - if telepathic communication were possible, who would need language? We could directly share feelings. So using “understanding” in any situation is also a kind of compromise. Of course, saying “I understand you” to someone who rode the same roller coaster involves relatively less compromise. If you only watched others ride the roller coaster and then said “I understand you,” there’s more compromise involved. Building acute perception of this degree of compromise requires willingness and time. Given its unclear benefits, I even doubt whether anyone is truly interested in cultivating such perception. But that’s another matter.

We must admit that conversations between people who rode the same roller coaster are extremely rare. So in the vast majority of times when we lack shared real experiences, what should we do when we want to say “understand”? The simplest approach is not to use “understand.” Don’t say I understand someone. Actually, even among people with shared real experiences, it’s best not to use “understand.” If you must express a sense of being able to feel someone’s emotions, you can say “I seem to understand a little bit of your feelings.” You can call this “understanding” purism.

Of course my original intention is to advocate respect for words, or at least awaken some awareness of linguistic corruption. George Carlin in a stand-up show talked about how the two-syllable “shell shock” became the four-syllable “battle fatigue,” then became the eight-syllable “operational exhaustion,” became the ten-thousand-syllable “post-traumatic stress disorder,” then was finally simplified to the nearly painless and harmless “PTSD.” I can’t explain here what essential connection this example has with linguistic corruption, but this is undoubtedly the best example I can give. (George Carlin is of course ten thousand times more brilliant than my pale retelling.)

If after all I’ve said, you still want to use “understand” in life, then… well, you’d better have good vision and a well-stocked analogy resource library. When introducing “Butterfly Lovers,” you’d better already know “Romeo and Juliet.” The ability to make analogies provides a bit more possibility for humans to enhance mutual understanding. Although, like “understanding,” no analogy, no metaphor, no translation isn’t a kind of compromise. (Again, the perception of compromise degrees!)

The setup is over, I’m going to start telling a story. Actually it’s not a complete story, just that here in Dublin there’s a Lush store selling handmade soap on Grafton Street, and on its storefront and products, it mentions in many places that their products haven’t been tested on any animals. Although I don’t consider myself coldhearted, frankly speaking, I’m not sensitive to whether animals are harmed in the production process of goods. I mention this not to say Lush’s success comes from not harming animals and broadcasting it, but to say that “not harming animals” is something people value, is part of the environment, part of the “water.” If a product has to increase production costs and raise prices because it doesn’t do animal testing, Dublin consumers might actually be willing to pay for it. I don’t know the domestic environment and water situation, but for myself, I might buy products because of super sunny Lush staff, but “not harming animals” probably wouldn’t directly influence my purchasing intention.

“Not harming animals” is like this, “personal data privacy” is like this, “democracy” and “autonomy” are also like this.

(I am blank space)

I definitely support and love all the people mentioned below, but I must ask Mr. Liang Wendao not to answer Eight Minutes program comments, I must ask Li Ruyi of One Day World to stop focusing on technology (why not write more poetry and daydream watching his daughter? I’ll still keep paying!), I must ask Hard Image and GCORES to stop talking about games. The emotions corresponding to these three requests are very different. The first request I make with hatred - I hate that Mr. Liang Wendao’s time gets occupied thinking about how to answer those almost unanswerable comments, I hate that these comments will subtly influence the “water” of Mr. Liang Wendao’s life. The second request I make with love - I love Li Ruyi’s playful arrogance and boldness (isn’t calling Twitter “Chirping Hall” adorable?), so I ask Mr. Li Ruyi to look at everything besides technology with the same passion (of course music shows should continue!). The third request I make with helplessness - this “request” is the most real and helpless. I clearly know both have the intention and original heart to change the “water,” and their effectiveness is even positive, but there are so few places where they see and examine their own motivations. Regarding TLOU2, please see the appendix

Of course all I can do is pray that these three requests won’t just make people laugh (meaning my future self). It’s worth mentioning that what this entire article wanted to say is actually just that blank space content.

The Last of Us Part 2

Do you like surprise? So do you actually want surprises or not?

Do you WANT to understand empathy? So is there actually willingness to try understanding empathy?

Can’t you see the scannable guitar? Didn’t you notice the photo mode filters? Don’t you admire the ambition to challenge player anger? Isn’t the symmetrical narrative structure shocking?

Anyway, I can’t think of any game or medium that has so successfully provoked and toyed with my anger. My only dissatisfaction is that the description of the Seraphites’ spiritual leader is indeed not full enough, didn’t give me a direct opportunity to join the cult… though the posters on the wall already sufficiently demonstrate their ability to create miracles in an age of disorder.

“May she guide me through the storm. May she keep me calm.”