Two acts of will and a shitload of technology allow you to read this. The machine you are currently engaged with has chosen the nature of the display you are viewing. Back in the post-modern world I would imply some arbitrary meaning and you would infer some arbitrary meaning and sadly, there would be no arbitrator.    Now the machine converts my prose into some low level language of machines. It has to. There is no high level for machines. They are just machines. I fired this missal into the void on faith. I believed that you exist. You cannot deny that you do. So I know something about you. I know that you exist. I also know this missal exists. It is an amorphous thing but in this world that we now share, it exists.