I'm a privately-funded standard's organization that refuses direct state aid.
Putting ourselves outside of the world is just a matter of will, as anyone who reads science fiction is aware. Doing so, we might think that someone as big as us could easily create a cataclysm by an accidental movement of their limbs.
'Let us build a defence system; it only needs to give a big oaf a shock before he begins to do real damage.'
Indelibly printed on my memory is the message from a friend who seemed to be caught in something inescapable. Becoming friends with someone, we share our good experiences and bad experiences. But some experience we must keep to ourselves or it is a matter of boasting. A reference to a culture of rare new grocery stores flew past me like a poem I tried to read without reading it out loud.
'Around around, flew each sweet sound, then darted to the sun. Slowly the sounds came back again: now mix'd, now one by one.'
For generations now, the matter has had to be treated as ineffable that Progress brought us to the situation that the simple story of boy meets girl is so much a thing that belongs with fairies and castles that, 'I wan'a hold your hand,' is treated as a cryptic message by boys experimenting with drugs who were getting too much sex.
But this thing which fits inside a circle which some call home, which transfixes us with its vanity, tells me that gravity is love, which means I aught to learn to stand on my head: what some might expect us to be capable of is not necessarily something we have the will to do.
'There's so many different worlds: so many different suns. And we have just one world: but we live in different ones.'
I can also stand on my world, which is easier to do, and more practical. As it is moving, I can just enjoy the ride. Putting our head outside the atmosphere, we can't avoid thinking about light: what it is, and how it moves. But we are caught in an orbit called, experiments we can't perform ourselves. Feelings, we know, take time. If I bounce my world, the response to the gravitational aberration is yet to be determined relative to the absolute of relativity. But we might claim with certainty that the bounce will be felt by anything that's orbiting the same thing we are.
Now, besides the tally of how many times I've bounced, I am yet unable to encode any message. However, if my world can bounce me, we then have a and b. Which is a bit of a rocky beginning to the giving of ourselves a means of communication that doesn't rely on a friend, but it gives us an entry into modern-day language theory so I'll just keep on at the sequencing and not worry about the destination.