In the labyrinth of language, terms are not mere signposts but living, breathing entities, shapeshifting according to the winds of context and time. They are slippery creatures, these words, wriggling out of one’s grasp like eels coated in oil when one tries to pin them down. You utter phrases using specific verbal tools, and they seem to resonate with an inner harmony, a symphony that aligns perfectly with the underlying logic of the era. This logic, this governing rationale, is not s...