Heidegger’s cat, called H, had been strangely aware of unusual feelings that had been troubling his soul. He realised that he had forgotten to notice that he was alive. But had he really forgotten? or had he never really had a sense of himself? Consciousness rarely bothered him, and where the hell had he got the idea of a cat’s soul?
As he pondered these new mysteries, a furry intruder crept around the corner. Schrödinger’s cat, curiously also called H, and known as H2, was a bloody nuisance and frequently appeared to be in two places at once. This thought jarred with H’s feeling that everything was somehow connected. Obviously, everything around H had to be appreciated, but how could you do that if a cat was adopting some weird quantum superposition?
H had often thought that fate had dealt him a dodgy hand. Having been thrown into a world where things could exist and not exist at the same time, he struggled to overcome feelings of alienation. His struggle to be truly free and live for himself made him question the norms and social values he was saddled with at birth. But a more universal perspective eluded him.
H2, was having no such inner turmoil. His life was a blur of possibilities, but paradoxically he was never in two minds about living for himself, ignoring the chatter of others and confronting the prospect of unbeing full on. Which was just as well, because H pounced with a deadly swipe of his claws and nearly caught H2, with a fatal blow.
odespinner 