The Infinite Monkey Theorem, Revisited
What is the opposite of water? There is none. Or is there?
Two points determine a line. You need one other point to make sense of this. One possibility is fire. On the fire/water line, they’re opposites. Another is air. On the air/water line, they’re opposites. What is the opposite of air? It can be water, but it also can be the lack of air, ie a vacuum, say, in outer space. So the opposite of fire gets us indirectly to outer space.
Take another example. What is the opposite of car? Again, what’s the context? Say you’re looking at your GPS. The opposite of car is essentially the alternatives to car. Which are: walk, ride hail, public transportation, bicycle. Each of us can read that list and think, “Yes, in terms of what is not car, that makes sense. ” Mixed with a liberal sprinkling of, “Naah, not exactly, but I get the point.”
This is very different from “What is the opposite of love?” It’s hate. (Some would argue it’s indifference, but arguers gonna argue.) What is the opposite of up? Down. What is the opposite of slow? Fast.
So what was the opposite of water? There is none, unless you supply more context. And even then, it’s iffy. What is the opposite of iffy? Certain. Definite. What is the opposite of certain? Uncertain. What is the opposite of definite? Indefinite. Vague. General. What is the opposite of Vague? Specific. By skimming across shades of meaning, we make our way across the watery world of words.
By these sideways zigs and zags, we hopscotch along an erratic path of stones; in doing so, we gradually expand our vocabulary outward.
And by this means of intentional straying, we may ultimately touch all the words in the English language. Kind of like the monkeys typing randomly, eventually creating the words of Shakespeare.
Just. Keep. Going.