A Kind of Logic.

I watched the penultimate episode of Merlin tonight. There was a point at which the poor lad, having been stripped of his magical powers by the dastardly Morgana, is trapped in a deep, dark cave with no means of escape. Suddenly, a hole appears in the roof. You might find this hard to believe, but at that very moment I became aware of something large and hairy peering over my shoulder. It was my old friend, the llama.

‘Where did that hole come from?’ I asked him.

What hole?

‘That hole in the roof.’

There is no hole.

‘Yes there is. I can see it, there.’

Dear boy, said the llama, affecting that manner with which he loves to irritate me.  The very definition of a hole is a place where there is nothing. Ergo, it can’t be there, since how can nothing ever be anywhere?

‘Your logic is very strange.’

It’s llama logic. You wouldn’t understand.

I turned to look at the screen again to reassure myself that where there was logically nothing, there was, in fact, a hole. When I turned back to remonstrate further with the llama, there was nothing to see.