IN THE ARMPITS OF GIANTS

The guy next to me is huge. I mean really huge. I know I shouldn't - it's probably not his fault, and even if it is why shouldn't he be huge if he wants to be - but I'm thinking evil thoughts. Such is my state of compression that I'm not going to be able to do anything useful with either of my arms. And I have a proposal to write. And even if I hadn't, I'm feeling my consumer rights have been violated. I mean, should easyJet have sold me seat 10F if it's already spoken for by the right hand side of the guy in 10E? 

But what can I do? If he was steaming drunk or a screaming child I could complain and perhaps be moved to another seat. But he's not. It's not about what he's doing, it's about what he is. Big.

AIRPORT PHILOSOPHY PART 1: IDENTITY OF INDISCERNIBLES

“The identity of indiscernibles is an ontological principle that states that there cannot be separate objects or entities that have all their properties in common. That is, entities x and y are identical if every predicate possessed by x is also possessed by y and vice versa; to suppose two things indiscernible is to suppose the same thing under two names.”

Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz

Or, to put it simply, if two things are the same, at least one of them doesn’t exist. Or, to put it simpler still, to exist you have to be different from everything else. A simple enough idea I picked up in a philosophy tutorial way back and somehow have never quite shaken off.  In fact, I think of it often, and drop it into conversation. When conversation is slow.  Which can cause some problems, because people tend not to believe you.  Oh come on, they say, what about those coffee beans. Or those baked beans. They’re all the same.  And all exist.  No they’re not the same, I counter.  They have equivalent physical properties, but positionally they are quite different, i.e. one’s here, one’s there.  Therefore they’re not the same.  And the doubter retreats, not so much vanquished, as bored.