We live, think and act inside thin slices of reality. Another slice, intersecting at an angle the exact point where i now exist, might look entirely different from the ones i am used to. Its truths and goods will seem like foolish errors, if they are even comprehensible. We must learn to travel between these slices of our reality, speaking of one truth with opposite words.
September 9, 2011
A tiresome argument
Dawkins was vacationing on the seaside with a few friends. They had been arguing about the truth of science all afternoon, one renegade stubbornly maintaining that no matter how correct science proved, it might still be blindly heading in the wrong direction: somehow it might be finding the wrong set of truths. Annoyed, the great scientist plodded out into the water for a swim. As it began to get dark he turned back and made for the shore, but the second leg somehow proved much slower going. Exhausted, he finally made it to shore, but he had drifted far away from where he had set off. His friends ran down to him and asked what had happened. Panting, Dawkins answered: “Some kind of current was pushing me, and no matter how hard i swam against it, i couldn’t break free.”
