"Erudite is a word that that is only used by those who meet its definition," Zed said to Frank frankly.
"Ah, so you're trying to communicate that you're scholarly? What hubris!" Frank replied.
"No, I was only using the word as a noun not as an adjective."
"You have to qualify your previous statement? That hardly makes you seem witty."
"And now you're the one who's trying to sound ostentatious!"
Actually Zed was busy considering if humans could utilize a numerical language under which they could express all thoughts and emotions; a method of communication similar to ordering off a Chinese menu. Because mathematics spans all languages and cultures, he felt it would be the most logical way to speak. A typical conversation, Zed thought, would go like:
Person A: "23,444?"
Person B: "19?"
Person A: "23,444?"
Person B: "Oh. 118."
Person A: "2."
[Then Person A would bring a bowl of Mongolian Beef to the table.]
Even the entire works of Shakespeare, Zed felt, could be numerically categorized, quantified and published:
'The Unabridged Collection of Works by William Shakespeare = 5,331,090,185,433,028'
Critics would rave:
"233,997,420! -The 827,222,291
"92,113. 348,942. -Steven Davis
"19? - Timmy Armstrong, 4 years old"
Using this language, even a room full of monkeys could compose the entire works of Shakespeare, of Chaucer, of Wordsworth, of the Shelleys...
"You know, if we would have called to see if the drugstore was open, we wouldn't have come," said Frank.
"What does that mean?"
"Exactly. Never mind. Why should we have called?"
"Because it's closed!" Zed looked up to see that the drugstore was indeed closed. The two had decided that a trip to there was something with which they could pass their time.
"Well, we've successfully managed to pass our time. I thought drugstores were supposed to be open 24 hours," Zed didn't care much, he was preoccupied mentally counting the number of people who had most likely sworn under their breath at him on his morning commute to work. The number, he calculated, was slightly less than the sum of people who had sworn above their breath. "I have to get to work early tomorrow anyway, let's go." Zed worked as an accountant. This is not a shocking bit of information to anyone who meets Zed. He lived with the calculated type of austerity that would evoke comparisons to Stoicism; however, more than that, Zed tried to live with practicality and insouciance. What does insouciance mean? Who the hell cares if you understand it or not? Zed doesn't care.
"I don't care," Frank said insouciantly, "whatever you say." Frank typically gave in because it was the easy thing to do. Zed started enough debates to make Frank realize that only a fool would ask for more. Although Zed considered him a basket case, Frank was anything but a fool. He had graduated near the top of his class from a first tier University and he was chosen to give an uplifting commencement speech that was widely regarded by attendees as: 'prosaic' and 'drab'.
"Blah," Zed said for seemingly no reason, "Let's go." And go they let.