Philosophizing from on high
A: Who, me?
B: Yes, you! Sakes alive.
A: What are you asking?
B: I’m asking you how you can tell if something’s philosophically valid.
A: What am I? Some sort of guru?
B: Yes! You’re sitting with your legs folded in a Schneidersitz—what the German’s call the tailor’s posture—and you’re up here on top of this wind-swept alpine peak, wearing nothing but what looks to be a muumuu. You’ve got the flowing beards and sandals, despite the glacial conditions. And we seem to be in some weird air bubble sheltered from the icy howling winds in which we can still carry on a conversation.
A: Oh, that! Yes, I see how you arrived at your assumptions. I really do. Have you considered I might be a higher power?
B: Well, you’re on the top of a mystery mountain taller than K2, so I don’t think things get any higher than that when it comes to human terrestrial forms. Can you levitate? If you could, that would seal it. That would settle the issue once and for all. You’d have the uncontested right to claim you were not only a higher power, but the higher power—maybe even the highest one. Can you levitate?
A: Nosey. Can’t you mind your own business? Where do I have to go to get some peace and quiet?
B: Why should you have peace and quiet? You can’t be serious, can you?
A: …it was a lot more quiet until you showed up…
B: How did you get here? Are there any more of you?
A: Won’t you mind your own business?
B: No! I climbed all the way up here for answers. You can’t shame me out of asking questions after I’ve undertaken all this effort.
A: Shame you? Why do you feel ashamed?
B: For one thing, I’m overdressed for this air bubble. I’m wearing all these layers of clothing, these heavy spiked boots, scarfs, earmuffs, goggles—and I’ve got this oxygen tank. Your air bubble is sweltering. I’m overdressed.
A: …you should have thought of that before you came in here…
B: Well I didn’t know you were here—I couldn’t see you and your air bubble in that howling blizzard out there.
A: Sure. Whatever you need to tell yourself to justify the intrusion. Don’t mind me. I was just sitting here minding my own business till you came along.
B: Really? Do you have to keep on like this?
A: I’m not the one who came crashing into your solitude and meditation, am I? Hmm?
B: Fine. I get it. I’ll leave again. But before I go, can I ask you a question?
A: Apparently.
B: Cute.
A: Well? Go ahead.
B: How did you get here?
A: That’s easy. I just put on my guru garb and sat down to meditate. I got in my meditative metaphysical bubble, and I didn’t get here at all. Here got to me. I am not here, in fact. The real state of affairs is that here I am.
B: That makes even less sense than what I’m doing here. I just came here for the age-old reason—because the summit was there!
A: That’s fine, but I wasn’t asking. That’s your business, and I’m not the nosey one.
B: You’re impossible. I’m leaving. Besides, the warmth and extra oxygen are making me dizzy.
A: I thought he’d never leave. Maybe my arse would be warmer if I levitated a bit. Hummmm…
HA on your short meditation...pretty clever idea
I was sad to hear Kristie Alley died, always like her...and I always get nervous when someone relatively close to my age dies...lol