Questions and Answers

Why is it that night seems to be the best time for thinking? Is it because the cool, pale light from Luna’s moon spreads out eerily across the landscape, encasing hills and valleys in a sort of mystical glow? Or perhaps thought is helped by the catalyst of serenity, the chill quiet of chirps and wind.

Whatever the reason, I have always found night to be the time for reflection, a time for staring into still pools of water and wondering about the deeper questions, like our own existence.

This night is like many before it, the wind rustles through the window into my room, causing small insects to unsettle themselves and search for a new perch, only to be devoured by a swooping bat. Did those insects ever think about their death? Can insects even think? Or maybe they are trapped in this reality, bound to live their days as tiny flying dots in the night, until something ends their simple existence.

What are we to do then? If insects cannot think, but we can, where does that leave us? We can question our own reality, wondering continuously whether anything can be really real. Some ponies become so lost, so trapped in their own thoughts that they might as well not even be doing the one thing that is most definitely real, living.

Because we know, without a doubt, that we are alive. How else could anything happen? Questions of whether or not this is real only come about because we have the life force within us, because we live. If we did not live, then how could we question our own existence? In some way, then, the fundamental question of all philosophy is whether or not we should live, because deciding to live means that all other questions can be thought through. Questions, for example, like whether or not this reality is the "true" reality (what is meant by the "truth" will be discussed in a latter essay.). This question carries long philosophical foundations, from the days of Ancient Mareece, about the fundamental nature of reality and whether this world is just the shadow of a perfect, ideal, world or if we can trust our senses. This question of trust is exemplified by solipsism, wherein the central argument revolves around the trusting of our own hooves.

This is the first, and last, argument against solipsism: We, as ponies of a living nature, cannot disprove or prove that we are in fact not in a reality separate from ourselves, that is, that this reality is real. The argument saying that this reality is not real falls flat when such a proposition is questioned with the burden of proof. After all, how can one prove that we do not exist. Clearly I can touch my own legs with my own hooves, is that not proof of existence?

But ah! the solipsistic philosopher would point out that one’s senses may deceive, that this could all be a simulation, a “brain-in-the-vat” scenario in which we ponies are encased in a giant tank with naught but our minds being kept alive. How do you disprove this, because what if we cannot trust our senses?

Thus solipsism is neither provable nor refutable, but merely exists.

And maybe that is what we ponies find ourselves in, a case of merely existing for no other reason but to exist. Perhaps the reason why Celestia is an alicorn is simply because. But this is circular, and hardly “good” philosophical reasoning. So the question as to our existence needs to be answered through study: continued acquisition of knowledge of ourselves and the universe.

Take one situation, however. I, Luna, was trapped on the moon for a thousand years, and my sister took hold of my duties and performed both, all the while suffering in silence. But while I was trapped on the moon, ponies eventually forgot my history, they practically forgot about me.

Did I exist then?

Certainly to my sister I did, every night she would look up at my prison solemnly, and bow her head in guilt. But did any other pony in the age leading to my return as Nightmare Moon know of my existence? To me, they did not know of my existence. As proof, Twilight Sparkle had to “discover” me from an old prophecy, but had she never read that book, I would have never existed until that fateful night.

This is true about so many ponies in history, the ones who are never recorded.

Starswirl the Bearded is well known, but are his parents? IF his parents are not recorded, then can they be said to exist?

The answer to that would easily be, “they existed because Starswirl exists”, but what if Starswirl simply came to be through the power of Celestia? Then that statement would be false, obviously, and Starswirl’s parents would not exist. Thus, any pony not recorded and learned about from the past exists in a state of both nonexistence and existence until some proof as to their existence is found.

To summarize: Solipsism is neither refutable, nor provable, but still exists as a mode of thought. Our existence can be neither proven nor disproved, but we can take our own existence to be real simply because we live, and thus have some form of life force that gives us existence. But this lasts only for the present, and unless recorded by somepony else, or remembered by somepony else, we fade into a state of both nonexistence and existence.

Q.E.D

The door creaked open to reveal Princess Celestia.

“Hey Luna.”

Princess Luna set her quill down with her magic and turned towards her sister, “Celestia! You’re just in time to look over something.”

The next thirty minutes were spent examining the essay Luna had just written, Celestia turned her head towards Luna.

"So... What is this?"

Well, I recently started reading some books when I had the idea to put down my thoughts on paper. But then I thought, ' why don't I send this out to the newspapers and do a running section'! So I did, just now. Oh I hope somepony responds!"

"Wait, so your plan is to have ponies ask questions and then answer them? Isn't that kind of mundane? What if they're just boring questions like 'What toothpaste do you use?'"

"Well I'll answer those too, along with the hopefully really deep and philosophical ones. Oh 'Tia, it'll be so much fun!

"I hope so Luna, I really hope so."