Thus spake the girl in bed with me, who (lacking a holy name), shall henceforth be referred to as Girl In Bed With Me, Spaker of Things About Stuff.
So yes; the world is a bowl of hedgehogs. And while the bowl itself is entirely arbitrary, each hedgehog feels a need to claim their interpretation as truth and push it on others. They war over it; each defending their meaning while calling all others wrong. “The bowl is a deep plate,” says one, “no; the bowl is really just a ladle with an unknowable handle,” says another, then someone says something about love and creates an awkward silence.
One day a single hedgehog named… uh.. Mr. Hedgehog… can’t take the arguing anymore and gets up on a soap box. “If each of you claims that every other is wrong, then everyone’s wrong!” Then, in a single moment of bowl-wide unity, the heretical hedgehog is forcefully thrown from the bowl. A few weeks of peace and then back to warring.
As that poor little fellow drifts away, looking back at hedgehogilization, the bowl’s nature reveals itself for what it truly is; a series of shared hallucinations* occurring in clusters around a ham-sandwich floating in space. If they were to put aside their arguments, they would see the fruitlessness of it all, stop warring and instead start zooming around with little hedgehog sized jet packs. But no! Instead they war. A shame really, because the now enlightened hedgehog drifting through space is about to watch them get eaten by, uh… hungry space-turtle. Well, this hedgehog has decided to grab a jet pack before that happens.
Hail Eris, and SO LONG God’s Bowl’o’Hedgehogs of a Spaceship, PLANET EARTH.
– The Great and Wonderful, Omni-Opiate, Irreverently Reverent Reverend Phnepsilon, The Suffixless.
* Anthropologist’s call it consensus reality. Pray it never happens to you!