It’s a word for thinking, “reflection”. That’s odd, because thinking is more than echoing the world back to itself.
I’ve been thinking a lot recently, reflections of recent events much in my mind and the strata of communication, the distance between discourse and polemic and marketing. I do discourse all the time and polemic when I have to.
If you don’t experience an event yourself—directly or via a recording—you have no recourse but the reflections off others’ minds. Which is all our species had until very recently.
At the end of the day it’s unsatisfying, I want to experience everything with my own eyes and ears and mind but nobody can. So it’s reflections, and oftentimes reflections of reflections of reflections. They become stories and each story’s teller, even one not trying to twist it, adds some and loses some.
At the end of the day it’s a miracle that “journalism” produces anything remotely useful. At the end of the day, the day’s story in the words of a participant has fewer reflections and (let’s be bold) more truth. In the separate words of several participants, there’s a hope of seeing the reflections’ imperfections.
I dunno. I’m a Chomskyan, think that Homo sapiens is the language-using member of the animal kingdom. What could be more important than getting the news out? What could be more interesting than a change in the structure of storytelling?