Are there really two sorts of things, that is, things themselves and ideas about those things? So much depends on it and yet it is implausible. It's not one or the other but that they are both the same sort of thing. Every perception is an interpretation and every intentionality is a kind of sensation. They are movements of the mind, ripples and eddies that sort themselves into this kaleidoscope exacting so much faith. Everything is action and object within the same display. The only thought that comes near to getting it is that there are not two.