Linguistic games with a scrap of an email

Virno uses the joke as a model for how human creativity, how innovation, works/is possible. "Jokes are the diagram for innovative action" (Virno, 74). Jokes make use of fallacy. At the end a section, he asks what it means that creativity is structured around faulty reasoning, around error. I'd like to suggest that all our linguistic games, all our communication is in some senses rooted in error. I quote an email I wrote in the character of Bishop Bishop in response to someone asking her whether or not it was possible to communicate with an image.

It isn't a consolation, but we misunderstand each other almost as often as we understand each other. Human communication (text, speech, body language, images, etc) is full of errors, gaps, glitches, misunderstandings.

There is a whole tradition of theater (the absurdists) that deal with the inability of humans to communicate. The work of Ionesco, Beckett, even Albee to some extent, are good examples of how a form predicated on dialogue paradoxically uses that form to emphasize how difficult or even impossible communication is. Yet, the paradox is even deeper because we understand what they saying, the meaning of their work is fairly clear, something is communicated.

Watching a young child who is in the process of learning how to speak- we might suppose that we learn to communicate orally by trying out different combinations of sounds and having people reinforce certain of those combinations in specific ways. The child says ba, often just for the pure pleasure of forcing lips and vocal chords to move and make noise, and the parent responds, "Bottle? Do you see your bottle?" So in some ways, misunderstanding is rooted in the our ability to understand. It is bedrock to it. Without those initial misunderstandings, misinterpretations of the child's vocalizations, the parent wouldn't make an emphasis that channels that sound towards specific words. I find the idea that misunderstanding might be required for eventual understanding to be glorious. But then, admittedly, I am perverse.