What is is? ––Platheus
Twilight sat, enraptured. She’d made a visit to Sugar Cube Corner. She’d bought a cupcake. She should have been eating it right now. Why wasn’t she? It wasn’t that she didn’t like cupcakes, or that she didn’t want to eat the confection before her, she just… didn’t. She had a cupcake. She was not eating it.
It sat there on the table, unscathed.
Perfect.
But not for long…
It was laughable, really, how much work one put into something solely intended for annihilation. Annihilation that almost anyone could bring. You didn’t have to be strong, or a powerful unicorn, or clever, or anything. A foal could do it, the task was that simple.
It was brutal.
How could it possibly be right to destroy something so magnificent? So flawless, so…
Beautiful.
But that wasn’t really it, was it? It couldn’t be. Because, if one could prove that it was inherently wrong to destroy a thing because it was beautiful, what were the implications? If something has value based solely on beauty, then who was to say what is beautiful, because Beauty is relative. And if something was worth saving because it was pleasing to one being, one entity’s idea of Beauty, then would not the converse be true as well? Or, actually, the inverse–– titles are important. If something is beautiful, then it is worth saving, says the base postulate. Ergo, according to the inverse of the statement, if something is not beautiful, then it is not worth saving. But then, the argument is drawn into a noose, because Beauty is relative.
But what, then, was worth saving? If Beauty is relative, and relatives are not universally true, then did Beauty cease to exist? And if there was no beauty, then there was nothing worth saving. Or was there? It required deeper thought.
According to the laws of logic, if the inverse of a statement is true, then the converse of the same statement was also true. Thus, if something is not worth saving because it is beautiful, then the converse of the original statement was logically true: If something is worth saving, then it is beautiful. Or, to frame it in the somewhat clearer contrapositive, if something was not worth saving, then it was not beautiful.
She blinked. This was astounding! The implications… her old professor seemed to speak in her mind.
The contrapositive of a true statement is always true.
This lent a whole new light to the concept. Was something beautiful worth saving? All her senses seemed to scream ‘yes!’. But logic was not to be ruled by the senses.
She tried inductive reasoning. What were some beautiful things? A book, she decided. A historical book was beautiful. Was it worth saving? Of course it was. The same held true for a library, a relic, and Canterlot Castle. So according to inductive reasoning, she was right.
Whatever it was she was trying to be right about…
But inductive reasoning cannot prove. It has its uses, such as prediction and astronomy, but unfortunately, at the end of the day, it was deductive reasoning that could actively narrow down the options until there was only one possible truth to be had.
She smiled. She was actually enjoying this.
Performing the mental equivalent of cracking her knuckles (handy, when one has no crackable knuckles physically), she carried on. Was something beautiful to be destroyed? Certainly not! Was it, then, to be left alone? She ruled out the question as invalid. The issue was not whether Beauty ought to be meddled with, it was whether it ought to be preserved or not. So, the only other option was that Beauty must be saved. And as she had ruled out every other possibility, she concluded the last to be correct. Beauty must be saved at all costs.
Of course, it all came down to one’s idea of beauty…
Nightmare Moon had been beautiful, in her own way. So had Chrysalis, if you liked that sort of look. Discord… eh, Discord had been compliant to Logic, at least. He was hideous. And there lay her chief quandary. If they had all been ugly, then she could have considered it evidence for her theory. But as they had been a mixed lot, it was inconclusive.
Of course it all… came down… to one’s… idea… of Beauty…
What is Beauty?
According to logic, it was not because a thing was beautiful that one saved it, it was because one saved it that it was beautiful. And if it was because one saved something that it was beautiful, then nothing in itself was beautiful. All things must be given beauty. But who had the right to do that? Certainly no mortal pony. Perhaps the princesses? Surely any creature as beautiful as they would have the sovereign right to declare a thing beautiful or not. If indeed they could, then the problem was solved–– one need only consult the princesses for verification or refutation of his or her beauty, or even the beauty of an object.
However, there was a flaw.
The whole theory hinged on the verity that the princesses were in fact beautiful. But according to the basis of the theory itself, the very postulates it was built around, beauty was not innate. It was bestowed rather than intrinsic. And if it was bestowed, there must always be a Bestower. And if there must always be a Bestower to grant beauty, then nothing that could not be given Beauty by some higher entity could be beautiful. Since the princesses were the highest entity in the equation, they could not have anything endowed upon them by any higher entity, because there was no higher entity to be had. Thus, they could not in any way be granted Beauty, and as a result, they could not be beautiful themselves. Hence, while they might feasibly hold the power to consign Beauty to a being or object, they could in no way they could attain said power because it had not been given to them. In consequence, they must not have the ability to link Beauty to anything, because they can in no way grant what they do not have.
Twilight gasped, clearly shaken.
What then? If the princesses themselves could not give this precious tag, who could? In any circumstance, the outcome of logic will always be the same: Beauty must be allocated by a higher entity, the higher entity must be beautiful itself, and so it must have received its Beauty from a yet higher entity. The cycle may wind its way up through yet more levels as higher and higher entities grant lower entities this gift, but logic can only result in one outcome: a paradox. Beauty is not innate, therefore it must be granted. But it must ultimately be granted by one who is innately beautiful.
The unicorn shook her head, trying to understand. What had she proved? What had she done?
Was there then no Beauty? If Beauty was a concept or an idea which could only be granted by a higher power, and if said higher power had no way of becoming beautiful, and consequently possessing no way of transferring, ceding, or attaching that essence to another, then either Beauty must not exist, or else Logic itself was fallible. And if Logic itself was fallible, then… it was impossible for anything to make sense. And if nothing made sense…
What could she possibly reason with? In the absence of Reason, what was left? All things must fall into a state of disorder, but disorder could only exist because there was order! And because logic is the essence of Order, could there be any order without Logic?
The implications, the implications!
She heard her professor in her head again, speaking from the past to a young filly who wanted answers, who wanted to understand.
You must always remember, Twilight, that logic is the basis of all we know, all we are. If there is no logic, there can be no reason. If there is no reason, there can be no truth. And if there is no truth, then we can not exist, because existence is the essence of truth.
She remembered being assured. She remembered the confidence she’d taken on, knowing that there were absolutes, knowing that things must exist, that they must be true. Because some things were so logical they couldn’t be explained using Logic.
You exist, Twilight Sparkle. You are Logical. You are True.
Logic. Truth.
Logic is Truth. Truth is Logic.
What is logical must be true. What is true must be logical.
Ponyfeathers, it made Sense.
And yet…
Was there no Beauty? Or perhaps…
Is Logic beauty? she wondered. Is Logic-Truth the basis of all things, including Beauty? For that matter, is Beauty Logic?
True Beauty, ponies said. Maybe that was what it meant. She didn’t want to think about it, but she couldn’t not think about it. It just seemed Right, somehow.
Ah, of course. Had to drag Right into it. And if it was a question of what was Right…
She realized she hadn’t blinked in minutes.
She blinked.
She blinked and straightened up.
Somepony was knocking at her door.
…
Celestia, somepony was Knocking At Her Door!
She bolted up, causing a few papers to flutter to the floor as she hurried to the portal. She opened it.
It was Rarity.
“Oh, hello, Rarity,” she said, opening the door all the way and standing to one side.
“Hello, Twilight,” Rarity said. She stepped inside. “Isn’t it a beautiful morning?”
Twilight cocked her head.
A beautiful morning, Rarity said.
Perhaps we could all try minding our own business, for a change, her professor whispered in her head.
A beautiful morning. Yes, yes it was.
She smiled. “Absolutely! Come on inside.” She turned around and started walking inside, then stopped. “Hey, Rarity,” she said.
“Care for a cupcake?”
