Philosophical Zombies

Mommy always told me,
Son, don’t never trust a zombie.
Oh, but Mommy, you’re a zombie too,
Who can I trust if I can’t trust you?
Mommy is a zombie — whatever shall I do?

I know I-Am/Consciousness, but I don’t know You-Are/Consciousness. I don’t know anything about you except that I perceive you. In this sense, you are just another element in my conscious environment, as real or not-real as a thought or a memory or a dream. I might treat you like I believe you possess I-Am/Consciousness, but I have no idea. Here in the rabbit-hole, I’m just going along to get along. I have learned that if I don’t kick big rocks, I don’t suffer the ill-effects thereof. When in Rome, and all that. Assuming for the moment that you do possess I-Am/Consciousness, then I am to you as you are to me; a perception, the appearance of a person, a Philosophical Zombie.