Husband has recently decided to educate himself. He's long had an interest in the idea of philosophy so borrowed some library books on the subject.
The first one was returned to the library quite quickly - before he could throw it down the toilet in frustration. (The smallest room is his philosophy reading place of choice.) The second one is faring better although after each chapter he declares it to be a load of b*****ks.
He's explained me to in some detail precisely why he is coming to these conclusions and i have to admit to sympathising. I mean when the so-called realist school actually comprises the crackpots and what if we're not really here but are only think we are when really we're controlled by a giant computer? (Although in that instance I have to confess to being ahead of the thinkers in that many years ago I wondered if I were really in an asylum and if anything were real.)
Anyway, today's topic relates to mirrors. Apparently for centuries philosophers have wonders why a mirror's reflection is flipped right to left but not top to bottom.
'Well, it's not,' says I.
'No, I know it's not,' Husband says, 'so why is it flipped left to right?'
'No, I mean it's not flipped left to right.'
Husband stares at me for a moment. I continue. 'If I look in the mirror I know my right side is over there.' I point diagonally across my body.
'No, it's not.'
'Yes, it is.'
Then I had a little think. 'Although, if I'm looking in a mirror and I lift my right hand, it's the hand that is directly in front of me in the mirror that is lifted. Well, blow me down. I never realised that.'
Husband shook his head. Then again it's probably not I didn't realise it; I've just never thought about it. For 62 years.
And it's freaked me out. I'll never be able to look at myself in the mirror again without thinking about Plato.