Losing a file by accidental deletion, which hadn't been added to the backup catalogue, it is good to be able to put our minds at ease that the only course of action that remains, besides that of recreating, is to make use of a tool that rifles through unallocated space, connecting things at random. When I've helped people by looking around for automatic backups, they've generally thanked me in a way which suggests the return of favour could be anything I chose, which generosity of intention we find ourselves compelled to pass on.
"Have an extra gulping of air."
Finding ourselves with two things called the environment, we can only blame ourselves. The environment is that into which we are born, which definition we cannot divorce ourselves from so long as we continue to look at how things work. It is a junkpile of identifiers--meaning names for objects--some of which are more heavily used than others, but we don't keep track.
The set of named objects that make up the environment must be considered a snapshot of how things were at the beginning. Saying that the arguments that were given to us at the same moment are not just a numbered list within the environment would turn us into the kind of theologians who make fine distinctions where the matter of there being any distinction at all is debatable.
"Eggs cooked after noon on special request only."
Perhaps we might recall the environment into which Unix was born, and thus sketch out pictures of technology that has been kept secret, but instead we pretend that everyone has gone stark raving mad and would put their head inside the mouth of an alligator to check if it isn't an allegory. A chicken looks after eggs. The size of the chicken is important, but we are not intending to disect either chicken or egg in order to be able to conclude something about existence.
The shell of an egg is like a nutshell, but that is not a metaphor. Jesus, forgive these people their sins!
As our allegory does not include robbers, some might think we're trying to describe Heaven. But we'll still be wringing the chicken's neck when it and the eggs have produced something we're happy with. Also, on the outside is a library, which isn't particularly interested in xml except in how it has indoctrinated users. But the egg smell!
Of course, some can afford to talk about words endlessly.