Socks may be much more than what we think they are.
Debates are an essential part of our society. Listing arguments for and
against subjects in a civilized manner in order to convince the other party
is the healthiest way to find a midway between two opposing opinions. This
method works particularly well when there is no objective answer to the
matter at hand. For instance, it is meaningless to argue over whether a
kilogram of feathers is heavier than a gram of steel. Such argument will not
have a two-sided discussion and as a consequence, it will not benefit any
party.
I love debates. I tend to debate just to be a nuisance sometimes, as I
enjoy the train of ideas that result from them. I have recently
discovered that
Urban Dictionary
defines the verb form of my name,
berking, as "the act of arguing
for the sake of arguing, or arguing to a point that is obviously false."
Makes me wonder whether my fate was already decided over a score and two
years ago.
It is no fun to write about those regular debates though. I am more
interested in those which have zero possible conclusions. I enjoy debates
significantly more when there is no way to measure the
correctness of either side of the argument. So in this post, I would
like to explore some of those forever-inconclusive discussions that I have
been carrying on my mind for a while. I hope the stupid ideas also spread to
yours.
My go-to example in this topic is the idea of
Last Thursdayism. I'm not sure if I should call it a religion, but it states thus:
Under Last Thursdayism, books,
fossils, light already on the way from distant stars, and everything
(including your memories of the time before last Thursday) were all formed
at the time of creation (last Thursday) in a state such that they appear
much older.
At first it is easy to deny the argument as a whole since you still have
clear memories of Gerald's birthday party last weekend. You were there and
you recall making conscious decisions such as selecting your gift, driving
your car, knocking the door, being a victim of social anxiety and spending
the entire two hours drinking wine in the least crowded corner of Gerald's
mansion, and having to call 112 after someone drank to the point of alcohol
poisoning. How can the stress be so fresh if none of these ever happened in
the first place?
Well, I am none the wiser. Reading the premise of Last Thursdayism
awakens a serious doubt about my recent past. As much as I cannot bring
concrete evidence that the universe was indeed created last Thursday, I
also cannot prove otherwise. Who is to say that the so-called past is
not an elaborate
Mandela effect
which collectively fell for? Since time flows in a singular direction
(as far as we are aware), I cannot go back and bring something from last
Wednesday. Then we can declare this debate inconclusive and move on...
or can we?
It sounds like the argument is trying to shift the burden of proof. I am the
one challenging the widely accepted view of "No, the universe goes way
further back than last Thursday." Therefore I am the one to bring an
evidence to the table. It is easier to explain what I mean with a more
reasonable case.
As a more practical example, one should not have to prove their
innocence until there is concrete evidence against. That is fair in the
correct context. As we cannot blame a baby for not following the law, we
can assume they are innocent by default. If one wants to prove that the
same person guilty later in their life, it is essential to point out to
the exact event where the assumption of innocence is no longer valid.
After all, this is a debate with a clear answer and the person who makes
the criminal claim should have a valid reason for it (unless it is a
very niche ethical debate that decides whether the person is a criminal,
but that would be outside of the scope of this post.)
I am failing to follow the same logic with Last Thursdayism. Yes, there are
already widely accepted ideas on when the universe was created. One of these
ideas is the
Young Earth Creationism
which is a tenet that the Earth is about 6000 years old. Many scientists
believe that the age of the universe is instead
about 13.8 billion
years. In either case, the number is an estimate rather than a measurement.
Any proof that can be given for the two views does not refute Last
Thursdayism. Since we cannot go back and check the validity of either claim,
neither of the claims is more valid than the idea that the universe is a
couple of days old. And that's why the burden of proof is shared between
both parties for this specific case.
Now that I have established my view on why certain arguments may spark
endless and inconclusive debates, I would like to go do a haywire of a
brainstorming session.
Given the limited nature of human perception, how do we know some certain
items do not disappear when no one acknowledges their existence? No, I am
not talking about some horror scenario like
weeping angels. I am talking about something more structured, more sentient and more
conspiracy-friendly. There may be a whole another world we do not even know
of.
Consider this scenario: Our socks are sentient beings which
only interact with the environment when nothing acknowledges their
existence. They are in fact out interdimensional overlords that monitor
our day-to-day lives to gather data. We are their lab rats. They have
infiltrated our world long ago and are curious on the workings of our
complex society. Their inhuman patience will allow them to strike in the
perfect moment to enslave the entire human race.
Doesn't make sense? Hear me out: They cannot carry any metal objects with
them as it would raise suspicion. One would see the devices they are using
and their plan would be spoiled. They somehow need to report back to the
mothership, so they created the propaganda that clothes should be cleaned in
very particular electronic devices. They use the washing machines as a
one-way portal to the mothership. They never come back.
Why do they come in pairs? Good question; nice to see some reader
interaction in a static text-based blog. Well, this is a great tactic to
blend in. Upon birth, socks are paired with their look-alikes so that
they can recognize each other better during the mission. We have about
two feet each, so we do not question why we have to buy two of them at
once. Being two of them allows them to overcome loneliness and
homesickness. It has the added benefit of collaboration when the task is
difficult, as well as the decreased risk of disobedience and betrayal on
the socks' side.
I can assure you that I am sober in these claims. I cannot prove this
totally valid conspiracy, but neither can we find concrete against why socks
could not be our overlords. Our knowledge of life is confined to the limits
of our world and we do not know what life looks like beyond our atmosphere.
Maybe these creatures evolved much further than us and freed themselves from
the need of oxygen, food and water. We will never know.
I will conclude this trainwreck of thought with wise words from the
famous philosopher Sockrates: "True wisdom comes to each of us when we
realize how little we understand about life, ourselves, and the world
around us."
Look at us being all curious after my tragic loss of a sock yesterday and my
following attempt to come up with an excuse for it. That's the spirit!
antiphona on 11 June 2023
S.O.C.K. = Sentient Overlord Confederate Klan