I’m guessing that what you think is that every question has a satisfying answer — an answer that explains what we wanted explained or tells us what we wanted to know. And so my question is: why do you think that?

For the record, I don’t think it’s true, or at least I don’t see any good reason to suppose that it must be true.

Here’s an example. We can send electrons, one at a time, through a certain sort of magnetic field (one oriented “inhomogenously” in a particular direction.) The electron will respond in one of two ways: maximum upward deflection or maximum downward deflection; nothing in between. So suppose a particular electron passes through the field and is deflected upward. You ask why up rather than down.

The most widely-held view among physicists is that there is no answer. The most widely-held view is not that we just don’t know, but that which way the electron went is a matter of pure chance; nothing explains it.

Now this may be wrong, but there are serious reasons for thinking it may be right. It’s not just a matter of “We’ve tried to figure it out and we can’t.” It’s a matter of the deep way that probability is built into quantum mechanics at the very bottom. And whether it’s right or not, it’s a perfectly coherent view. So my answer to the first of your questions is that there’s plenty of room to think some questions just don’t have answers at all.

As for the cow… There may be a good answer, though I’m a philosopher and not a cowologist. But any answer will depend on details of evolutionary history, and it’s entirely possible that some of those details involve pure, random chance & mdash; a stray cosmic ray inducing an unpredictable mutation, for example. So my answer to your first question could have a bearing on your second question: if we push the “why” question back far enough, we may reach a point where answers just run out.

My understanding is that Buddhism teaches the doctrine of anatta — "no self." This doesn't mean that there aren't people in the ordinary sense. It means that there is no underyling metaphysical substance that amounts to the self. But I'm not aware of anything in Buddhism that would fairly be described as solipsism. So "the internet" got this one wrong (except for the thousands of places where it gets it right.

as for thoughts, feelings, emotions, etc., people do think, they do feel, they do have emotions. Or better, perhaps, there are thoughts, there are feelings, there are emotions. But they aren't tied together by some underyling soul or mental substance. The Scottish philosopher David Hume held a similar view. On Hume's view, a person is a "bundle of perceptions," though that's a bit too crude to get it right. In recent philosophical history, Derek Parfit developed a view that he would be the first to admit owes a great deal to Hume and to Buddhism.

As for minds and consciousnesses, it depends on what you mean. If by a "consciousness" you mean some sort of entity above and beyond the brain/body complex, I take the Buddhist view to be that there isn't such a thing. But if you want a more informed and detailed answer, you might take a look at this from the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy:

https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/mind-indian-buddhism/

Here's a way that might help. Suppose there are two pieces of paper in front of you. One of them is a genuine $5 bill. The other is a perfect counterfeit. In fact, suppose that it was illicitly created by the very same equipment that created the real bill. The point is that the difference between the real $5 bill and the fake isn't a matter of the physical properties of the piece of paper.

A similar point holds for the home run. There are certain things that have to happen physically for something to amount to a home run. But with a little imagination, we can tell a story on which what's "really" going on has nothing to do with baseball. It just looks for all the world like a real baseball game. But to be a home run, the physical events have to be part of an honest-to-Babe-Ruth baseball game. Without the right intentions, rule-following, etc., no set of physical events amounts to a baseball game. There are physical regularities in a baseball game, but some of the most important things have to do with explicitly, intentionally, following a set of rules or norms.

Does this mean that there's something spooky about signing checks and playing baseball? I don't think that's the intent—or at least it shouldn't be, Physics has lots to say about the physics of spheres colliding with bats and so on. But physics has nothing to say about stolen bases, designated hitters, and the like.

Also: while it may be true that the immediate physical facts about the ongoing events in the stadium don't make something a home run, facts about baseball "supervene" on broadly physical facts. The difference between a real home run and something that merely looks like one may not be found in the physical properties of what's going on in the moment. But it's pretty plausible that there can't be a difference between a real home run and something that just looks like one unless there is some physical difference somewhere in the history of what's going on right now. Even if some of the things that make home runs home runs have to do with minds, it doesn't follow that mental facts float free of physical facts.

That said, and I assume this is somewhere in the ballpark (heh...) of Prinkard's point, no amount of sheerly physics-y knowledge will add up to an understanding of baseball. Or paying a bill. Or meaning what you say. Prinkard is pointing to the way that norms, rules and practices enter into making certain things and events that things and events they are.

When I was a young man, I knew someone who was, in the phrase that might have been used at that time, "mildly retarded." He was married. And he understood his condition. And he struck me as a happy man. He certainly wasn't leading a life of misery.

In the neighborhood where I now live, there is a young man who is even more intellectually challenged. I doubt that he understands his condition. But he does not strike me as unhappy at all. To be sure, he lives a simple life. And no: he couldn't live on his own. And he also won't have "accomplishments" in the sense you have in mind. But near as I can tell, he's not miserable at all. He's happy. In his case, I don't think marriage is an issue. But the larger point is the important one: intellectual ability and happiness are quite different things. There are sad, miserable geniuses and thriving, happy people whose IQ scores are well below 100.

So what I'm saying is that I don't accept the premise of your question.

If the woman meant (a) "I can't utter the word no in response to any request from you," then she can't abide by her companion's request (to say "no") without falsifying what she has just said. Still, I agree with you that there's no paradox here. The woman can abide by the request to say "no" by saying "no" in response to it. As far as I can see, the appearance of paradox depends on supposing that the woman meant both (a) and also (b) "I can't deny any request from you." But, as you suggest, she can't have meant both (a) and (b). All that follows is that (a) and (b) can't both be true if her companion asks her to say "no." Nothing especially interesting about that.