I live on an Adirondack Mountain. When I look out of my front window, I see down the mountain. When I look out of my back window, I see up the mountain.
If I were to turn my house around, then when I looked out of the back window, I would still see up the mountain and when I looked out of the front window, I would still see down the mountain. This is because what I would designate as either the front or the back window depends on what they look out upon.
Note, too, that it would not matter if I called them either the front window, or the back window based upon where they are situated in my house. Once I turned my house around, the names would also be turned around. The front window would become the back window, and the back window would become the front window. This is what is known existentially as the phenomena of topsy turvy.
Mind you, I could paint the word “front” on the front window, and the word “back” on the back window. Then, when I turned my house around, the window labeled front would look out up the mountain, and the window labeled back would look out down the mountain. This, of course, would not be topsy turvy because I had personally intervened by acting upon the windows. Personal interaction with phenomena is the conundrum of existentialism.
You probably remember existentialism from your studies in Sunday school. The basic principle of existentialism is that what you see exists, and what you don’t see does not exist. Thus, for example, when you look out of the front window and see down the mountain, down the mountain exists. However, because you are not then also looking out of the back window, up the mountain, ipso facto, up the mountain does not exist.
Importantly, this existential phenomenon does not change when you turn the house around. Consequently, even after you have turned the house around, you could not look out of the front window and see up the mountain, because up the mountain does not exist when you are looking out of the front window, but only when you are looking out of the back window. Quad erat demonstratum. That’s why they call this existential phenomenon topsy turvy.
If you are finding all of this rather confusing, think about it this way, back can never be front, and front can never be back, at least philosophically speaking. However, front can be back and vice versa scientifically speaking because science deals with reality, or at least with what the scientists call reality. For the scientist, existence does not depend on what you see, but on what the scientist tells you that you see.
Therefore, unlike in existential philosophy, in science the front can be the back, if the scientist tells you that it is. Consequently, the scientist can tell you that what you are seeing from the front window is up the mountain, even though you know through your own deductive reasoning based upon existential principles that up the mountain is not seen, and therefore does not exist, except outside of the back window.
The ability of science to deal with reality in this manner is based upon the science of corporeal teleportation, which is the ability of something to go from one place to another without crossing the dimensions of time and space. Which, quite frankly, is how the front can be the back, or at least how they can be the same thing at the same time, even though they are not the same thing, existentially speaking.
Balderdash, you say. Corporeal teleportation is pure science fiction. True, as I said, it is science. But is it fiction? Hardly.
The great white whale, Moby Dick, for example, was reliably reported to be in two different oceans on the other side of the world simultaneously. That could only be possible with teleportation. Because Moby Dick is a fish, he is neither science nor fiction. Same thing with Pete L’Elfe d’Massif, who used his power of teleportation in the rescue of the beautiful Melony Noon. Like Moby Dick, L’Elfes d’Massif are neither science nor fiction. Ergo, teleportation is not science and fiction.
Now I understand that you may still be confused by all of this. Let me try to finally settle the matter for you.
If, for example, I walk out of my house through the front door, and I walk down the mountain, then the existence of down the mountain is proven by my seeing down the mountain during my walk. If I then turn around and walk up the mountain, then my reversal proves that up the mountain exists. However, I nevertheless know that down the mountain continues to exist even though I am no longer walking down the mountain. I know this because my legs hurt.
That is the topsy turvy reality of Adirondack Mountain living.