Imagine that the following sentence, "Jane sat on a yellow cushion and literally fell head over heels," were 'pictorialized' such that "Jane" was replaced by a picture of Jane, "sat on a yellow cushion" were replaced by a picture (or a couple shots in series) of Jane sitting on a yellow cushion, and "literally fell head over heels" were replaced by a picture of a startled Jane mid-tumble.
Visually, we find that "literally" evaporates; it is just a part of "fell over". "Literally", it seems, literally has no visualizable reality. You cannot point at the concept of "literally" in spacetime. It is a sheer verbal parlor trick, used only to dramatize and exaggerate an otherwise mundane description of events. Conceivably, every instance of "literally" in written history could be
And yet––yet, "literally" does have a meaning. It is a coherent concept which we can and do use all the time. It is a real "intentional object"––otherwise how could you be reading what I have written about it and with it?
It seems, then, that not all words are visually registered. What we know, in other words, is not coextensive with what "Literally" cannot be "caught on film," but it can be caught in the mind. You can see what I mean without ever seeing what what-I-mean is. The only fitting picture of "literally" is the series of conjoined letters in 'literally'. The word, thus, acts as an unnatural sign of an unnatural reality. A material in quo (by which) of an immaterial quod quid est (that which is).