Shadows on a Cave Wall

Sitting in a semi-lotus position on hard stones, Plato watched flickering shadows cavort on the cave wall. He had the bemused look of someone who was confident the shadows weren’t real in any meaningful sense. They were there for a moment’s fleeting entertainment, pale imitations of essences he was sure existed. Plato chuckled at the foolishness of people who spent time–often an entire life–measuring, dissecting and building with the puny tools of reason foisted on them by Aristotle and his ilk. They took appearances made of shadow matter–so much fairy dust–entirely too seriously. Thinking about the meaning of the ideal and the real and…