It is not a very good paradox (very good meaning mind boggling as should be the innate nature of paradoxes) like the grandfather paradox.
As per Plutarch, who is very old and definitely dead by now, the ship in which Theseus and his gang of Athenian youth homies returned from Crete had thirty oars. It was supposedly preserved by the Athenians for quite some time. They took away the old planks as they decayed, putting in new and stronger timber in their place.
This is the crux of the matter so to speak. The ship changed. Leading to a question of things that grow. The more things change the more they remain the same or is it the other way round? Or something.
My personal choice of question though, voiced by Thomas Hobbes, is what I was trying to explain last night (and failing remarkably).
"What would happen if the original planks were gathered up after they were replaced, and used to build a second ship. Which ship, if either, is the original Ship of Theseus?"
Kinda like that band which is headed by one guy and everyone else just keeps on changing. [Yes, you Axl Rose and you too, Billy Corgan]
eg. You read this when you are unhappy. You read this when you are not unhappy? Is it the same thing?
OF COURSE. Literally, it is. On some terrible philosophical level (which has mood lighting but malfunctioning coffee vending machines) it is not.
OF COURSE. Literally, it is. On some terrible philosophical level (which has mood lighting but malfunctioning coffee vending machines) it is not.
The experience changes not just with the environment but also with the perception of the experience.
The formal cause or form is the design of a thing, while the material cause is the matter that the thing is made of. The "nature" of a thing is its design? Or is it a more material connection? Or is it entirely B.S.?
The song remains the same, because the design and not the matter stays constant.
"Apparently."
