Merge

photo by altercator

Solipsism is the view that one’s own self or consciousness is the only thing that exists in the Universe.

It’s easy enough to see how this perspective arises: all we know of the world is our own perceptions of it; we conclude naturally enough that everything in nature is simply a product of our own minds. 

But as the eminent philosopher Bertrand Russell pointed out, even people who purport to be solipsists deny their view just by reporting it.  After all, to whom am I supposed to be defending solipsism if there’s no one out there but me?

Another puzzle for solipsism is to explain the incredible diversity and complexity of all nature.  I may have a reasonably good imagination, but really, is any one mind creative enough to come up with phenomena like the platypus, or the Milky Way, or especially the myriad and ever-shifting array of human interactions and experience? 

Even the mind of God, where someone like the 18th century British Empiricist George Berkeley has everything taking place, seems too puny to account for the vastness of it all.

Case in point: one group of several dozen bicyclists sets out from its usual Thursday evening spot and, after amply provisioning, pedals to a relatively secluded, but reasonably familiar platform strung several stories above a Superfund site just in time for the spectacular summer sunset; unexpectedly, another oddly sympatico gang of two-wheelers rolls up soon after and instantly, Venn diagrams overlap like crazy. 

Even the most committed of solipsists will have to admit that no one could possibly see this coming; it’s simply too marvelous to be conceived of from nothing.

Moreover, the night continues and former strangers—now instant best friends—are reunited in one bar after another and while one’s own consciousness contracts under the influence, the possibilities continue to expand. 

All this, and a three Scott night to boot!

Sorry Mr. and Ms. Solipsist, you just can’t make this shit up.

Unimaginable.