To the peasant turning over the field for a new crop, the question of whether sun revolved around the Earth or vice versa was irrelevant. What was relevant was rain, sun, warmth -- weather to make the grain grow so that he and his would be fed again.

The rights and wrongs of the Wars of the Roses meant little to the guy who was shoved out in front. Whether or not the Czar was the Little Father of Russia was of little importance to the peasant soldier facing the German machine guns.

The Tommy who jumped up at Ypres shouting "The bullets are just shadowy reflections of reality!" found out differently when they sliced him in half.

Plato dies in 151 grains of cupro-lead; astronomy is studied by those who are fed by others. Socialism, monarchism, democracy, republicanism, theocracy, and the rest fail when famine and plague ride.

Logic is a poor crutch, perception is subjective, reality is hard. Nonetheless, it's what we have.

Besides, I'm an anarchistic solipsist.