Acknowledgement

Did you mean, asked Pliny the Elder, that the Kuarna people would have laughed to know they were being acknowledged, or that they would have laughed to know that the Vice Chancellor sometimes forgot?

I left it deliberately ambiguous, I answered, because I think they would have laughed at both those things.

But neither of those things are funny, said Pliny.

Not to you or me, I said, but put yourself in the place of the Kuarna people.

Who are they? asked Pliny.

They are the traditional owners of the Adelaide plains, I told him.

And do any of them come along to Research Tuesdays? he asked.

Not that I have noticed, I admitted.

I see, said Pliny. So you have no way of knowing whether they would laugh.

If they were there, I said, impatiently, they would have no need to laugh. It's ironic because there are none of them there to hear themselves being acknowledged.

And when the Vice Chancellor sometimes forgets? continued Pliny.

It's even more ironic. That would really make them laugh.

But they are not there, said Pliny, exasperated.

As you are determined to be obtuse, Pliny, let me put it to you another way. Imagine someone were to tell the Kuarna people that this acknowledgement sometimes does and sometimes does not occur on Research Tuesdays. Might they not laugh and shake their heads and say to one another, That'd be right!

They might , said Pliny stiffly, but I freely admit I do not know any Kuarna people. Do you?

No, I don't.

Ironically, said Pliny.