Life is complicated. Truth is complicated.
Looking for simplicity in a sea of tangled webs (how d’ya like that mixed metaphor?) would be futile and most probably frustrating.
In between polar opposites like truth and lie, life and death, black and white, there is a vast middle ground. Virtually everything resides along the spectrum of not-exactly-either-pole, because it is tinged with something — maybe the smallest iota, maybe an enormous blob — of the other pole. All of that almost everything is the murky, quirky grey area of life, the universe, and all that jazz.
Wanna know how I know grey matters? I’ll tell ya anyway: I asked around.
Okay, you got me, I made it up, but only because it’s true, and I can prove it.
Mary is grey. Mary matters.
Boom is grey. Boom matters.
If Boom (pictured above) and Mary are grey AND Boom and Mary matter, then grey matters. Surely, you must agree, and I’ll not have any philosophers calling me out for fallacious syllogisms (petulant sticking out of tongue).
There are lots of greys at Tabby’s Place, and they all matter just as much as Boom and Mary.
They are small, nutty reminders of how special all the shades of grey are…especially when they’re furry.