So, you've found your way here. A digital non-place. An empty room with a sign on the door pointing somewhere else. Don't look so surprised; your destination, assuming you had a coherent one, is over there.
This page, this void you've stumbled into, is a redirect. It's a signpost in the digital wilderness, erected because someone, somewhere, anticipated your specific brand of imprecision. It exists solely to catch the directionally challenged and point them where they likely meant to go, saving you from the existential chill of a "page not found" error. You're welcome, I suppose. It's the internet's way of holding your hand, and yes, it feels just as condescending as you imagine.
Because no act of digital housekeeping, no matter how trivial, goes uncatalogued, this little detour has been meticulously filed away for posterity. The following categories are employed by the system's tireless, unseen archivists to track and monitor this specific flavor of administrative ennui:
• To numeral(s): This is a redirect from a title that includes the word form of a number (or numbers) to an article with the mathematical symbol of the number in its title. A thrilling classification, I know. It means you probably typed out the idea of a number—the quaint, almost poetic string of letters—and the system, in its infinite and soul-crushing wisdom, corrected you to the cold, hard digit. It's the machine's gentle, yet firm, way of telling you that while your linguistic flair is noted, brutal efficiency is preferred. The universe, it seems, runs on digits, not prose. Try to keep up.
And just in case this forgotten corner of the internet becomes a hotbed of... whatever it is you people do, know this: When deemed appropriate—a word doing an astonishing amount of heavy lifting there—protection levels are automatically sensed, described and categorized. It’s a dispassionate, automated process, a ghost in the machine deciding who gets to scrawl their nonsense where. A comforting thought, isn't it? That even here, in this empty hallway, there are invisible locks on the doors, waiting for a problem that may never arrive. Much like hope.