Figgers don’t lie. They simply do not. You may not have the mental agility to take a model further (such as what happened before the big bang; the model works fine till then, when they start yielding infinities and other absurdities as answers). But truth inheres in math. In words they do not, and that makes them treacherous. Luther frequently complained of this when he was writing his Wittenburg theses. He was right.
Words may say things that are absolutely correct. A lie may have just enough truth to provoke precipitous and disastrous action. Something that was once true is later a complete, lying absurdity. Words have viscosity, or plasticity, and can be said like to be like stretchable taffy can be, malleable enough to make truth look like lies and lies seem like the word of God. Yet we depend on language for so much.
The only talent I have is for words. At any math beyond high school algebra/trig, I absolutely sucked. Still, I got the equivalent of a Chemistry minor but not so easily when it came to the math part. When I aced Organic 2 I decided to call it a sweep and quit while I was ahead. I never made less than an A in Chemistry my entire life but that was probably from the brutal hours of study I subjected myself to. Perhaps words and numbers can both enhance and subvert the other and the key is the kind of vision that grasps the difference.
So what does this have to do with anything? WTF, IDK. I cant complain with the verbal talent I was born with but sometimes it feels that I am the procurator of lies without knowing it. This is why I am a rationalist to the core. That is why there are no Vampires or Ghosts or Zombies (Christ, I am so fuckin tired of everything on TV being about Zombies) or aliens in my stories. But I once came dangerously close. In Tenement, I discovered that the protagonist simply could not live without his wife, and there was nothing for it but to bring her back. I had killed her off in the previous book but unfortunately not in a way where she could just walk back in, such as a fire where they find a crispy critter that they believe is her.
I had to invent a science fiction way she could come back, and it seemed to work. Good science fiction can legitimately stretch the possible as far as it can go, and does not violate the laws of science. I stretched my explanation pretty far but theoretical physicists go ‘way beyond this all the time. To me their work about things like white holes, or Einstein-Rosen Bridges seems mere mathematical masturbation but WTF do I know? I’m only a writer.