It's Still Life

THE CAT EXPLORES HAMLET’S IDEALIST THEORY
(Or: To Scream, or Not to Scream—That Is the Observation)

“Consider,” the cat’s tail twitches,
“Hamlet’s dilemma: ‘To be, or not to be.’
But what is ‘to be’
if not to be perceived?
If I sit in the garden,
and no human sees me,
am I truly there?
Or am I merely…
a sublime hypothesis?”

The Old Woman doesn’t look up from peeling potatoes.

“You’re there.
The sparrows perceive you.
The earth perceives your digging.
I perceive the dead leaves
you keep tracking into my kitchen.”

The cat flicks an ear.

“Ah, but what if I choose not to perceive them?
What if I declare this potato… nonexistent?”
He closes his eyes tightly.
“Behold—the potato is gone.
Q.E.D.”

She places the potato firmly in front of his nose.
“Perceive this.”

He opens one eye.
“Hm.
A compelling counter-argument.
But … !
If a tree falls in the forest,
and no one hears it,
does it make a sound?
If I knock a vase off the shelf
and you are not home…
did it truly break?”

She pauses.
“The mess is there when I return.”

“Ah!” he purrs, leaping down.
“But the sound, the act of breaking,
existed only in the realm of potential
until your perception collapsed the probability wave!
You see?
I am not naughty.
I am… experimental.”

She stares at him.
He stares back,
a tiny annoying philosopher
smelling faintly of old fish.

Then she reaches into the cupboard
and pulls out a treat.
“Here.
Perceive this.”

He eats it in one gulp.
“…Well.
Empiricism does have its merits.”