As I see it, there are three different, probably interrelated possible meanings when one refers to one’s “heart.”
The first meaning, the most obvious and mundane one, is the physical heart, that oxygenates and circulates our blood, among other probable corporeal and incorporeal functions.
The second meaning seems to be an aspect of mind: the core of the mind or emotional body; the part that’s held most dear; the most sacred aspect of one’s disposition; the driving force that all other mental disposition emanates from; maybe even the subconscious or an aspect of the subconscious. This heart also seems to be related to intuition, maybe because this heart has its own way of knowing and wisdom, likely not only a way of “processing information” but also involving some form of psychic perception. It probably also embodies some form of psychic substance and activity.
The third usage seems to refer to the heart chakra, which may be a function of the biological heart. My heart chakra seems to be located right beneath the sternum, around a half an inch to an inch behind the skin.
I know it’s there because I used to feel things there, like emotions but more localized. I used to send bursts of energy to girls I liked from that spot in my chest. I have reasons to believe it was something like “throwing out extension cords” meant to connect my heart with another’s.
As I’ve mentioned in a couple of other essays, I once experimented with this heart function by sending a burst to my friend who could see auras, while she was looking at me. I didn’t make any unordinary physical movements or inform her of what I was doing. As soon as I did it, she opened her eyes really wide like she had seen something incredible.
I also had an experience once where I felt a kind of peace and subtle, divine bliss that I’d never felt before, and it was more or less centered in my heart chakra. I was watching the wind and sunlight play with the leaves of the trees in the yard around the pool while I felt this, and I somehow transcendentally recognized that the trees (or at least their leaves?) were feeling the exact same thing I was feeling in my heart while dancing with the wind.
It seems that there’s some degree of overlap between “heart” as an aspect of mind and “heart” as in the “heart chakra,” as well as the possible overlap mentioned already between “heart” as in the biological organ” and “heart” as in the “heart chakra.” By the transitive property of things being related to each other, this means they’re all likely in some way interrelated.
I have a text of the four or five happiest moments in my life, which includes a more elaborate account of the bliss I felt in my heart that I mentioned above. I’ll include the text here:
I’ve had four moments of true happiness in my life, and they’ve all been completely different kinds of happiness.
One was when I was at my family’s log cabin in Michigan, I woke up and I suddenly just felt soo happy, I have no idea why. I was just so happy to be alive. So I stepped out of the cabin into nature and being there made me so happy that I literally laughed out loud for a second, uncontrollably.That’s the only time I’ve ever been so happy that I had to laugh at nothing.
Another time was when I was swimming in the pool with my little sister (who’s very intuitive), and she had me stay still while she dumped a pale of water on my head. I closed my eyes. You’d think there’s nothing scary about having some water dumped on your head, but for some reason that simple act entailed that I had to trust her, a kind of surrender. I think that was the key to what happened next.. I suddenly felt divine happiness literally in my heart (heart chakra or maybe solar plexus chakra). It was so subtle yet so real and something that was so far from my normal miserable empty experience.
Anyway while in this state I was watching the trees blowing in the wind, and I could actually see the happiness of the trees or their leaves being tickled by the wind and the sun, because it was the same happiness in my heart. So now I know that trees actually are spiritually alive and sensitive and enjoy life.
Sometime not too much later I overheard my mom saying that my sister had told her that a pain she’d had in her hand for years was magically gone. I think it probably had something to do with the divine presence touching my heart while we were in the pool.
The joyous feeling in my heart that time was a living energy, like there was a kind of inner motion to it.
Many years later I read somewhere, I’m pretty sure in The Power of Now, that some special state of consciousness–I forget how he described or named it, something like bliss or enlightenment or connection to and love for all life–is often attained by people who spend many years suffering and then have a moment of surrender.
Another time I had to walk through the cafeteria of my niece’s elementary school while it was chalk full of children, and I didn’t have my hat on which I usually liked to wear to cover up my baldness. I actually felt like I looked a little bit freaky, because I had long wavy hair and was also partially bald. So I was really embarrassed but I decided to have courage and just do it. A minute later when I was back outside of the building walking along the sidewalk, I could perceive this soft white energy filling all the space and surrounding everything in it, and I felt so at peace and comforted by this energy–like it was God or something–that I smiled a huge smile for this little girl that was walking by me from the other direction, and it was genuine.. It would have taken more effort not to smile than to smile. Again, this is extremely unusual in my experience. That’s actually the only time I can remember smiling and not being forced to, besides when I happen to be laughing at something. By the way, I was also carrying an open black umbrella over my head at the time even though it wasn’t raining. =p
The fourth time I was truly happy (fourth in this list, I mean–this probably isn’t in chronological order), I was in a mall and suddenly randomly I felt an actual glow/source of light in the center of my heart (heart chakra or solar plexus chakra area) and I guess it kind of emanated from my whole being in a way because this kid who was in front of me randomly said hi to me.. that like never happens to me.
All of these moments of happiness were truly sublime, but they only lasted a few minutes or maybe less each time.
There was also another time I remember that could possibly have been the happiest moment of my life, it was when I got back home after having been on vacation for a few weeks with some relatives. The door was opened and my mom was in the living room vacuuming and I ran to her and hugged her. I don’t actually remember how that felt, I just remember what I did, or remember remembering it, so I’m not sure if it was the happiest moment of my life or not. Also I’m not sure if there were other equally happy moments during my childhood that I just don’t remember.
The idea is for an organization (maybe NPO to keep it from becoming corrupt, or maybe for-profit to allow it more capital to work with to be more powerful and effective) to facilitate the creation of businesses that are less driven by the profit motive than your ordinary business. They may still be profit-oriented, but they should have parameters in place that mitigate the tendency toward profiteering-per-se. Some possible solutions are:
Make businesses that are owned exclusively by their employees
Make businesses that are owned exclusively by the communities they’re situated in
Make businesses that are owned exclusively by the people who use their products or services
Make businesses that are nonprofit but not aimed at charity work; rather, they do ordinary things (like a retail store, for example) but are restricted by the legalities of a nonprofit organization
If such an organization is created, it may also handle the facilitation of community projects such as museums, parks, libraries, hospitals, art installations, roads/rails/vehicles for public transportation, etc. The idea is that a web portal would be created where members of any given community may submit ideas for projects, submit variations on submitted ideas, vote on those variations, or pledge to donate specific amounts of money to actualize those ideas.
If not enough money is pledged for a specific idea, then nobody pays; if enough money is pledged, then everyone who pledged is called upon to pay. The NPO would then handle the creation of a given project, including contracting for construction, hiring employees, dealing with the government and the city counsel to get the necessary permissions and to coordinate the duties of the NPO in creating the project with the duties that can only be carried out by the local, state and federal governments.
A similar web portal could also be made for creating potential bills of legislation, creating modifications of them, voting on those modifications, pitching the end results to the government, and maybe even raising funds to lobby for those bills. That may be best implemented as a function of Project Catalyst, or it may be best realized as a completely separate entity.
The idea of submitting ideas, submitting variations/modifications of ideas, and voting on those variations of course could, and probably should, apply to the business-creation side of the NPO as well.
The business-creation aspect of ProCat could revolutionize the economy and workforce, giving workers more rights and better working conditions, and significantly curtailing corporate profiteering and the wealth imbalance.
The object is to stack from ace to king (or 2 to ace if preferred, as long as it’s decided beforehand) in each of four stacks, one stack per suit.
You get two stacks of your own to work with (they start with no cards in them.). Cards are face-up. The rules for these two stacks are: a) you can place a card on a stack only if it’s of an equal or lower face value than the previous top card b) you can take a card off of either stack at any time to place onto one of the four suit stacks.
You get 3 or fewer cards in your hand at any one time. You can take a card out of your hand and put it on a stack at any time. (you may not take a card from any of the stacks and put it in your hand.)
Take a card from the top of the deck if you have 2 or fewer cards in your hand and put it in your hand or onto any of the stacks if possible.
Do this process until you’re stuck or you win.
Obviously, variants of this game can be created to make it easier, such as having three stacks and/or five cards in your hand, but I find that with a little bit of practice you can win with the above rules half or most of the time.
Swap (Solitaire)
This game is similar to the Stack ‘Em game.
Use a shuffled deck.
The object is to fill up four stacks, one per suit, from ace to king, or 2 to ace if preferred but only if decided before the game starts.
You get 4 additional stacks that you can work with at your own will (they start out empty.) Cards are face-up. At any time you may a) take a card off the top of the deck and place onto any of these four stacks b) take a card off of any of these stacks and put onto one of the four suit piles c) take an entire stack and place it on top of another stack
You of course may also take a card off the top of the deck and place directly onto one of the four suit stacks.
Do this until you’re stuck or you win.
Note that, unlike in the Stack ’em game, you may put a card of a higher value on top of a card of a lower value. Obviously in some cases this will get you stuck when trying to take the cards off the stacks and put them up into the ordered stacks. Part of the game is figuring out when you can do this without causing a paradox (for example the 4 of hearts is covering the 5 of spades and the 6 of spades is covering the 3 of hearts), or just crossing your fingers and hoping that it doesn’t..
Another difference is that in the Stack ’em game, since you can’t place a higher card on a lower card, you can just keep the stacks directly vertical — good for conserving space when you need to. In this version you’ll need to look at the stack histories to know when you should or shouldn’t put a higher card on top of a lower card, so you may want to keep the stacks (or parts of the stacks) cascaded.
Grid (Multi-Player)
Getting a feel for the strategy of this game probably requires following the instructions and playing it! Any number of players can play, although it probably becomes pointless with too many players (especially for variant 1).
This game has two variants.
Variant 1:
Use a shuffled deck.
Place 8 cards, face up, on the table in a pattern like this, where the As are.
AAA AOA AAA
(The cards will not be all aces, that’s just the letter I used to represent their places. They’ll be whatever you draw off the top of the deck.)
The eight card positions are actually eight potential stacks.
Give each player one card, face-up. These are their personal stacks. The player with the most cards in their stack at the end of the game wins.
Place the rest of the deck, face-down, in the middle position (where the O is in the middle of the A’s)
Players take turns around the table. On a turn you first fill any missing stacks out of the eight with cards from the deck (one card per empty stack). Then you do one of the following: a) Place one card/stack on another card/stack, as long as the top cards of the two stacks are either the same suit or the same value. repeat as desired. b) Take exactly one stack and place it on your personal stack. You may only do this if the top card on your personal stack is the same suit or value as the top card on said stack. You may not pass. (You must either take a stack or place at least one stack/card atop another, unless no move is possible.)
Variant 2:
Just like variant 1 except that you can’t “repeat as desired”. You either do (a) twice, or (b) once. You cannot pass. If you do (a) and only doing it once is possible, you do it once.
Variant 3 (this variant came about because I played it and it had been so long I forgot the exact rules to variant 2. it turned out to be a good game):
Just like variant 2 except that you can do (a) twice or (b) twice, or both (a) once and (b) once in any single turn.
Speed
This one I actually forgot the rules to, so you can ignore it. But it’s a big shame, because I taught it to my sister and she taught it to all her friends and they played it because it was so fun.
I just remember you had a few cards in your hand, and there were a few stacks on the table, and you could place a card from your hand onto a stack under certain conditions, I think it was if the top card on the stack had the same suit or number as the card in your hand. I don’t remember if you could do anything else with the stacks on the table. I don’t remember how you win, but I guess it was by running out of cards. But I don’t remember how/when you get new cards into your hand.
You didn’t take turns in this game. You did everything as fast as possible to beat your opponents, so it required fast thinking. Sometimes two people would go for the same card at once, but one of the hands has to be below the other, so you knew who got it.
There may be a radically different way to do grammar, which is simpler than any other grammar, and can potentially get the same things across given the right words extant within the language. The simple rule is this: everything is an analogy. The simplest kind of statement would be two words, e.g., Christmas:Hanukkuh. That says that Christmas is in some way analogous to Hannakuh. A sentence might actually be one word, as individual words may take the place of simple or complex analogies. “I am hungry” could be be expressed as one word, if such a word so evolved.
Analogies may be nested to any degree, with single words replacing pairs wherever convenient. No words are pre-defined for this language; they would have to evolve on their own, and/or be borrowed from other existing languages, or all be borrowed from one language. I’d personally prefer English or Latin. English makes sense because it’s the closest language to a universal language we have yet, and also it’s the most natural, flowy sounding language (even according to those for whom English is not their mother tongue). and Latin makes sense because it’s the best common denominator to the tree of languages that have evolved since it, regarding their words’ roots, and also it just sounds really cool.
Supposing we could summon up a suitable analogy for “is”—the “is” of attribution—and we then replaced that analogy with the word “is”, we could then say “the son is hot” like so: “sun:hot:::is”. “Is” could probably be defined as something like this: “Earth:round” (since the relationship between Earth and round is that the former “is” the latter). Thus we wouldn’t have to say “son:hot::Earth:round” and generally go around using the idiom “Earth:round” all the time. The “is” of identity, on the other hand, would be much more concrete: it could signify A:A, or even 2+2:4, so we could say, ’43rd president:”George W. Bush”::isofidentity’ (or whatever shorter word we concoct for “is” of identity, such as “isi”), which expands to: ’43rd president:”George W. Bush”::2+2:4′. Except that “43rd president” would actually be in analogical form, for example, something like this: “president:43::ordinal,” where ordinal could defined as, say, “first:1″. So the final statement might be something like this: ‘president:43::ord:::”George W. Bush”::isi’, fully expanding to (as one possibility): ‘president:43::first:1::::”George W. Bush”::a:a’.
“And” would be a relationship too, of course, but I’m not sure of what kind. It seems to signify the most general kind of relation: the relationship two things have by virtue of their being related in the given sentence. Actually, I guess it could be considered a grouping term. It seems even antithetical to the system of hierarchical pairs (which is essentially what the Figura system is), since “and” can link any number of items serially. And the same applies to “or.”
I’m loathe to add more rules to the grammar just for those two words, particularly since they can be represented via hierarchical pairs, albeit awkwardly (kind of analogously to using nested ifs in programming instead of “else if”‘s), but I had already been thinking of allowing series anyway, of the form “a:b:c:d:[etc]”. The only problem, then, is, for example, if “b” in the above example represented the pair “e:f”, how would one fully expand the expression? It doesn’t seem possible to do in a particularly logical way: one could only itemize the relation “b” as a singular entity. But there’s no really big reason not to do it this way other than that it breaks the language’s capacity of allowing one to expand any given sentences by recursively expanding its terms, within the language’sowngrammar.
In Latin, semantic structure is afforded purely by “accidence”—that is, word relationships are determined solely (or almost solely?) by inflection, so a sentence is a collection of inflected words that you can put in any order you want, in general. If inflections are used with Figura in its adoption, or creation, of words, then it adds the risk of making the semantics more complicated, by using two individually sufficient modes of grammar—the analogical and the polysynthetic—rather than less complicated. (If we don’t want to do that, and we use Latin for our word base, then perhaps we could use Latino sine Flexione.)
Though, on the other hand, I suppose Figura’s benefit of complexity-in-simplicity is no less beneficial if used as a feature of a new language—rather than as the sole basis of its semantics—in conjunction with any other feature of organization, as long as it’s still the sole modus for word ordering and punctuation. In other words, maybe it’d just be like having Latin—or Esperanto for that matter—on crack.
But on the other hand again, those inflections that take the place of word order in other languages may totally clash with the grammar of hierarchical analogy. I should hope that, if words in an existing language with sentence-structural implications are borrowed or otherwise used, then we don’t just forgo bothering to synthesize any analogical definitions for them based on more-principal words. Especially considering that this language is mostly intended to be an experiment in cognition: that is, is our understanding of things fundamentally based on comparison and nothing more? (How else would organized thought arise from the so-called tabula rasa?) And if not, then why is it that the simple modality of Figura could go so far?
In the examples I’ve given thus far, I only demonstrated how the language could be done in writing. You can’t very well pronounce series of colons in speech. There are a few different possibilities for efficiently expressing the grammar in speech:
1. For each number of consecutive colons, invent a new word, which I’ll call a “structuring word”: E.g, if “:” were “an” and “::” were “kan”, then “sun:hot::is” would be said, “sun an hot kan is”. This is still rather verbose—people’s jaws would probably become tired from having to say “an” and “kan” so often. We can probably completely eliminate the word for single “:”’s without any loss of information, since a “:” would in that case be the only possibility for any two adjacent non-structuring words. However, I’m still not sure that’s efficient enough.
2. Invent words for specific analogy-tree structures and precede a given sentence, or sentence part, with the word for its particular tree structure. Since there are so many possible tree structures, a combination of this and Method 1 should probably be used, where only the most common tree structures get their own words.
3. Invent words for all the shortest and lowest-level tree structures, and enunciate higher-level bifurcations only as they come, using method 1. This may be cleaner analytically than method 2—if it’s even practical, but it might come at the considerable expense of both naturalness/organicity and dynamism in the language.
4. Invent words for various tree structures per method 3 or 4, but allow a structural word to refer to a larger-scale structure inasmuch as its implied structure applies particularly to that scale. For example, in a:b::c:::d::::e:f, its second-level structure would be “x:::y::::z”—where “x” signifies “a:b:c”, “y “signifies “d”, and “z” signifies “e:f”. If the ⌂:::⌂::::⌂ relation is called “tar,” ⌂:⌂::⌂ is called “yar,” and ⌂:⌂ is called “an”, then the entire sentence could be said, “tar yar a b c d an e f”. In other words, “yar a b c” is embedded within “tar ⌂ ⌂ ⌂”, where the first ⌂ becomes “yar a b c” or “a:b::c”, the second “⌂” becomes “d”, and the third ⌂ becomes “an e f” or “e:f”.
Or alternatively, “tar” and “yar” could be the same word, as a second-level structure of ⌂:::⌂::::⌂ corresponds to a first-level structure of ⌂:⌂::⌂. That might only serve to be confusing, though. I picked 2 as the number of bifurcation levels per scale arbitrarily, but it doesn’t have to be 2, and it doesn’t have to be anything in particular anyway. Bifurcation levels themselves could just be indicated by the selection of word used, and scales/bifurcation levels may or may not be relative to how they’re nested.
For example, if one could say, “tar tar a b c d an e f” for “a:b::c:::d::::e:f,” then the bifurcation levels implied by the first “tar” would be relative to those implied by inner “tar”; and if one could say, “tar an a b c d” for “a:b::c:::d,” then the implied bifurcation levels for “tar” would be shifted up by only 1 instead of 2 levels. Since Method 2 or 3 might be used in combination with Method 1, “a:b::c:::d::::e:f” might, for example, be expressible as “tar yar a b c d e an f”, or, perhaps, if “san” is “:::” and “man” is “::::”, “tar a b c san d man e an f,” or even “tar a b c san d man an e f”, et cetera and so on—depending on how we define the grammar.
5. The number of possible tree structures that we’d have to invent words for could be greatly reduced if we instated a practice of rearranging sentences’ word orders to fit already-existing tree-structure words. For example, we wouldn’t need to separate words for each of structures ⌂:⌂::⌂ and ⌂::⌂:⌂, because “a::b:c” could, instead, be said as “b:c::a”. This may make the language sound unnecessarily strained and inelegant, though. At least it would not necessarily be a rule that we use an existing tree-structure word whenever possible.. we could be allowed to use Method 1 whenever we wish.
But I am not even sure that we would have to use any of the above methods but Method 2, since we may create a lexicon of tree structures rich enough to be applicable to all applied situations.
You may have noticed that I haven’t even addressed the problem of actions yet, which bears worth getting into. Take “he went to the store.” In Figura, it might be “he:store::wentto” (or, we could say, “he:store::goto:::did”—but we’ll go with “he:store::wentto”..), but what is “wentto”? For a suitable analogy, all we really need is a comparable juxtaposition—take any instance in which someone went to something which is well-known. Christ went to the altar, but “Christ:altar” doesn’t really work because Christ also did other things with the altar.
What we need here is a story.. a story of a man, who went to something, the story being mainly centered around his having gone to it. An epic or a folk tale, perhaps.. or even better.. a mythology. By being immortalized in language, this allegory would be thusly embedded in the minds of all who use it, and brought closer to the surface of consciousness every time someone says that somebody went to something. The same would apply to all the other allegories and analogies we would use for other words. So, thanks to a language, we would now have a suitably myth-based culture.
The word “wentto” as defined above wouldn’t be the only possibility to use in the sentence, naturally.. The man being an object, and the store being an object, other possible analogies could apply. There could be an allegory, or even an iconic historical event, where one thing moved toward another thing. And this even might be more applicable to the above situation, in context, than that the allegory that actually involves a man, according to the judgement of the person using it, for some odd reason.
Or perhaps there is a third allegory, one in which a man went to a store. And maybe this one is always used, or more generally used, for people going particularly to stores. Or perhaps the speaker just thought it more suitable for the moment. And why not 2 to 3 or more allegories that apply specifically to a person going to a thing? In that case she could have said, “goto(3) kan he an store did,” where “goto(3)” is meant to symbolize the third word taken from these allegories and wouldn’t actually use the number 3 in natural Figura.
In that case, we’ve eliminated the highest-order relational signifier, which would have been a “san” between “store” and “did,” because, with all the other structural signifiers in place, there was no other possibility for that relation; “store” and “did” could only have been separated by a “:::“.
Anyway, the point is that there could be any number of available metaphors, overlapping or even redounding in applicability, for use in any given situation. Having a plurality of words available for any given use isn’t a new concept, of course. English, for example, is known to be an extremely “rich” language, having numerous synonyms (with usefully differing aesthetics and connotations) for most words.
In the example, “goto(3) kan he an store did,” I really wanted to order the words, “he [??] did [??] goto(3) [??] store”, but there was just no way to do that with the given system of structures. So it brought to mind an extra possibility: the possibility of significators for structures where other words occur in between analogous pairs. This would mean that, instead of signifying structures such as ⌂:⌂::⌂, the order in which the words occur in the structure could itself be a dynamic, so that, e.g., “mar” could signify ⌂2:⌂3::⌂1. Thus “a:b::c” could be expressed as “mar c a b”.
Note that this syntax also allows us to invoke the same sentence word twice in the implied structure, e.g.: tra could signify ⌂1:⌂2::⌂2:⌂3, so that “tra Donald Trump rock genius” would mean that Donald Trump is to a rock as a rock is to a genius. Of course, this brings into view the problem that multi-word terms being borrowed into the language could cause ambiguity in the tree structures.
Of course, I had two choices there: have subscripts index words in a sentence so that where they appear in the key reflects where the indexed words would appear in that key, so that ⌂2 means that the second letter after “mar” appears there, or the converse: have ⌂2 mean that the second letter in “a:b::c” would appear there. The first choice is the better one for almost all purposes, and is more logical. Although instead of using ⌂’s and subscripts, we could use letters, as in “mar: b:c::a.” We could also include the inverse lookup, like so:
mar: b:c::a 🡒 “a b c” .. a:b::c 🡒 “c a b”. In other words, “mar a b c” would mean “b:c::a” and “mar c a b” would mean “a:b::c”.
Or we could illustrate it as,
mar: ⌂2:⌂3::⌂1 🡒 “⌂1⌂2⌂3” .. ⌂1:⌂2::⌂3 🡒 “⌂3⌂1⌂2“
Or better, we could do it graphically:
mar:
or..
mar:
And some other arbitrary and unlikely examples of what could be invented (these examples probably being needlessly complicated)..
fuxor:
needlin:
anaxor:
And repetition..
gem:
The last subject I wanted to touch upon is definite and indefinite articles. Some readers might be wondering how one would express “an apple” or “the apple” in Figura..
“An apple” could be signified simply by “apple”, as with Esperanto, but for “the apple” it seems we’d need some way of expressing the attribute “as that which”, for example, as in “an apple, as that which had been mentioned before…”, but this seems hard to do in Figura. Without parts of speech, “that” has little meaning. And “as” might be tricky to represent in a language that’s only based on “as” to begin with. Even if we just directly adopted the word “the” and tried to invent a suitable meaning-analogy for it, it doesn’t relate two different things—it only relates one thing, and apple:the seems like a bad analogy, because how can something that could apply to everything be analogous to “apple”? General:specific might be a pertinent analogy, but how would it be used?
I think something like “apple:aforementioned object” might be sufficient. Come to think of it, if we can say “aforementioned object” then we can just say “aforementioned apple.” How do we attribute “aforementioned” to the object? Similarly, how would we say “red apple”? I guess the problem of including the definite article boils down to the problem of including adjectives. Does “apple:red” work? Consider “apple:me::ate”: “an apple is to me as [something else is to something/someone that ate one in some well-known event or allegory].” Now consider “apple:red::me:::ate”: an apple is to red as [me, as if I were a relation] in the way that [something else is to something/someone that ate one in some well-known event or allegory].”.. nope, doesn’t work.
One possibility might be just to use word-compounding, by which “red apple” would become “red-apple”. But would word-compounding constitute a secondary grammatical principle? Perhaps not, since even though “red” and “apple” are separate words in English, the word base of Figura is not defined as the word base of English, so “red-apple” (as an example) can easily be infused into Figura’s word base as simply just another word.. Also, I am partial to word-compounding languages, especially regarding noun compounding. In this scenario, perhaps red-apple would be noun compounding because, as Figura has no convention for adjectives specifically, “red” would not by definition be an adjective.. It could be synonymous with the qualia “redness” or the color red, which are both nouns.
It may seem, on the face of it, that requiring a hyphen for, e.g., red-apple or yellow-phone, as opposed to using “redapple” or “yellowphone”, is an arbitrary distinction, given that they are just single terms in Figura either way and that any compound word that becomes common enough is prone to eventually having its hyphen dropped anyway.. and thus it may seem that such a requirement is unnecessarily authoritative. But it really does serve a useful purpose: without specified word delineations, it’s harder to tell—at least at first glance—where one word ends and another begins. In some cases, there could be syntactical ambiguity involved; in other cases, it could simply be aesthetically displeasing, throwing off the mind’s natural ability to parse. But once a compound word becomes mainstream enough to have its hyphen dropped, recognizing it as such has already become second-nature. And some compound words never do become agglutinated because it doesn’t look right. (Consider “mainstream” versus “second-nature,” for example.) So, authority and distinction on the use of hyphenated words are thus justified.
Adverbs, on the other hand, might never have to be used. If you want to say “he ran quickly to the store” instead of “he ran to the store,” you’d simply use another more suitable allegory in which someone ran quickly to something, perhaps even to a store.
Going back to the original “aforementioned apple” problem, it occurs to me that we could just do it like so: “apple::object:aforementioned”, but what analogy would “aforementioned” expand to? Or could we just borrow the word directly? Or would it name a myth/popular event that we make up or recall? And could “object:aforementioned” be shortened to “the”? Or could we just say “apple:aforementioned”? And then “the” doesn’t necessarily refer to something that was previous mentioned, though it does seem to imply that the object was somehow already considered or necessitated.
One final note: while I created this language for the purposes of linguistic experiment, it has also brought my attention to the general possibility of using allegory and mythology more pervasively in existing languages. For such purposes, for any given language, ideally we should be able to create a bunch of new words—particularly or especially adverbs—which represent specific allegories, myths, parables, epics, well-known events, and so on, of its given culture. That may or may not be memetically practical, though, given that their origins would be artificial and given modern anti-mythological culture.