Let me trespass on your tolerance further, and ask you to give me an example of a major practical decision in everyday human life (as opposed to metaphysical discussion) that you would need to make differently, if you it turned out that you were wrong.
I'm just trying, you see, to work out why anyone should consider it worthwhile to put in the effort to understand what you are saying. I hope you take that in the positive sense of my giving you an opportunity to explain yourself rather than of my teasing you. I do the latter sometimes on this board, but when I do you will be able to tell the difference, I think.
It's no trespass! I also find this kind of discussion fun, and since I'm working on a manuscript concerned with these issues at the moment, it's also helpful for my writing process.
Ordinarily we (very much including myself here) interact with the world from a position of
de facto realism. That is to say, we behave and expect the world to behave as if mid-size dry objects like pots and mountains are really there--that is to say, as if they really have the self-nature of being pots or mountains. Of course, in reality "pot" and "mountain" are nothing more than conventional designations that we impute atop a particular assortment of partless particles (not "atoms" in the classical sense). And if we analyze further, we can see that even those partless particles necessarily lack any self-nature.
So what's the point of this exercise? Even if somewhere in the back of our minds we intellectually comprehend that "this pot (or mountain) is impermanent," or "composed of atoms and only conventionally designated," or even "unreal," we don't have a direct engagement with its impermanence/mere conventionality/unreality as such. Likewise with ourselves. Everyone understands that they are going to die, but vanishingly few people really deeply truly understand their own death. We think we are the same person we were yesterday, last year, and so on. We think, in other words, that we have the self-nature of being ourselves. Perhaps "thought" is the wrong word, because it's more of a deeply-ingrained subliminal cognitive habit, but I trust you understand my meaning here.
The bottom line is, because we interact with the world in this fundamentally misguided way, we suffer. For example. I have an Xbox 360. I interact with it as though it were a real object that really persisted over time. If one day I woke up and its component partless particles were scattered across the room, I would be very disappointed. The fact that I don't yet completely understand, that I haven't yet completely internalized its impermanence (to say nothing of its unreality), means that I am bound and destined to suffer. And compared to my level of attachment I have to myself, my identity, the level of attachment I have to my Xbox 360 is nothing.
So it's not so much a question of "what would change if I were wrong." I'm not wrong, and at a very basic level, that's why there is suffering: because of the misguided cognitive habit of realism. Once we've recognized that this is the case, it's no longer a question of some single individual human decision;
all our decisions are affected, because putting an end to our suffering (and the suffering of others) means interacting with the world in a completely different way than we're used to. Now I suppose if you happen to
like suffering, then I guess there is no point in re-orienting your intellectual and/or cognitive framework in this way. But if you don't like suffering, and want to stop suffering, then at some point it will become necessary to understand that the world as we ordinarily experience it does not, in fact, exist in the manner that it appears to, in the manner that we ordinarily experience it. I could start talking about cognitive science and representationalism, and how "what we perceive" bears only the slimmest relationship with "what's out there" (to the extent that it even makes sense to speak of an 'out there'), but that's probably more than enough for now.
Does that help?