During the blow-outing that the Denver Nuggets meted out to us last evening, J.R. Smith made a most unwelcome gesture to our bench.
Yes, after his successful launching at the distant basket, he donned the three-goggles.
Blasphemy? Perhaps. But my cogitation is that J.R. is misunderstood. You see, he is an armchair philosopher, though the armchair in question is threadbare. As J.R. is clearly centered around his own self, I once asked him if he was a solipsist during warm-ups.
J.R. nodded uncertainly to my query. To make the Nugget more at ease, I identified myself as a solipsist as well.
“I’ve been a solipsist all my life,” J.R. responded. “I’m surprised there aren’t more of us.”
In my childhood home in Mallorca, my bedchamber was wallpapered with mirrors. I would stand between the looking glasses and shoot the basketballs of Nerf. Doing so, I could see an infinite number of Rudys shooting as one!
This led to issues of profundity. Which Rudy through the looking glass was the real one? Was I me? Or was I the me who was once-reflected? Or thrice-reflected?
This was my first confrontation with the deep nature of existence.
It was also my last. I have better uses of my time! And with these much-ballyhooed “three goggles”, I see reality for what it is!
To be sure, not all of my mates agree. While Patty Mills is also an enthusiastic wearer of three-goggles, he still enjoys discussions on the layers of reality. In fact, he phoned me today to engage in just such a debate. But I made a pre-emptive thrust of the sword.
“Patty, are you at home?” I asked.
“Yes, I am, mate. Why?” said the antipodean point guard.
“Because I am also at home. And that means that this argument cannot be resolved. We are arguing from two different premises!”