One of the recurring themes of the stuff I write here and elsewhere is the relationship between signified and signifier. The true nature of something and the outward appearances, the appurtenances, the accessories. If I could simply obtain the gift of always seeing the former and never the latter, I would be wealthy, successful, loved beyond my limits of my imagination. It’s unlikely to happen. I’ll continue to sit in Plato’s Cave, facing the wall, just like the rest of us.
At least I have company, as this following anecdote will demonstrate.
