A story about recent trends in philosophy of science:
A bunch of people are sitting in a room discussing the question, whether you can step into the same river twice. Some deny that you can, either because the river is never the same or because motion is impossible. Some say that you can, but only because the river has a defective mode of being. Or that you can, because the form of the river remains while the matter changes; or because being is nothing; or because temporality is ecstasis; or because a river is a set-theoretic construct or a mereological sum of time slices or both; or because thats the way we use the words river and step, and if you use them differently you no longer speak for us; etc.
Suddenly someone runs in and says: Hey guys! Believe me (and you should, because I once spent five years trying and failing to become a fisherman): youve all been working with a really simplistic and impoverished version of what a river is. A real river is shallow on the edge and deep in the middle. Sometimes the water is green, sometimes brown, sometimes blue. And there are fish! Not once in all of your discussion do you so much as mention fish.
Not news, and not helpful.