The Paradox of Theseus’ Ship
This reminds me of one of my favorite poems, Dulce et Decorum Est, by Wildred Owen. The bill of goods that glory is, and what is actually the cost.
Indeed I am not the young man I was 30 or 60 years ago. Neither physically nor mentally. Yet I am still a contributing member of society, both healthy and wiser. I may lose my health and mind. Become a burden on society and still be. Perhaps we are simply a consciousness that occupies physical space for a brief time or travelers on a journey back to where we came from. In either case, I can only hope I leave the world a little better than I found it. Why else are we here?
Would it be considered too declasse to ask for phoenetic pronunciations apres les noms ancien ?
I hadn't read this from Plutarch, but I have often compared it to a wooden table. I think some tables are put together in a hodgepodge fashion, which sometimes includes rotten wood, which I liken to some of the things parents did not instill, instill correctly, or society shaped and rotted away.
I had never really thought about the table no longer being the table, since the replacement of parts and pieces is so spread out. In thinking the table is no longer the same table, wouldn't that be the point? If I am to grow, and I have to replace a leg or three, all the parts that were weakened are no longer weakened. They are replaced with a better and stronger leg that can withstand the load the table is charged with bearing. I should not be the old table I was. I am a better table now.