Inconsistent

I have been thinking and I think I might have found it: I cannot tolerate inconsistensies. They stick out like a splinter in my head. An incinsistency means trouble one way or another. It means somewhere something has gone wrong, even if the fault is at my end of perception. Consistence is harmony and harmony is happiness. Perhaps thats stretching it too far. But when things are consistent, there's definitely a nice feel about them. Its amazing to observe how a single inconsistency in a smoothly running system can propagate an multiply into a devilish concoction of chaos - like the ripples that spread over a lake when you plop in a stone or the random pattern the smoke from an insense stick disperses into when you breathe near a steadily rising column of smoke. Like the spreading wave an inconsistency makes itself known even to distant events at distant places and distant times. One thing sets off another and before you know it, the number and sequence of events that were in some way caused by the inconsistency has grown beyond computational feasibility and your entire thought experiment is a complete mess. What was calm is now a mess. Such is the power of a simple inconsistency.

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Recommended listening: Cliffs of Dover (Eric Johnson)