Lindsay Perigo
The Politically Incorrect Show - 27/10/2000
[Music - Die Fledermaus]
Good afternoon, Kaya Oraaa & welcome to the Politically Incorrect Show on the free speech network, Radio Pacific, for Friday October 27, proudly sponsored by Neanderton Nicotine Ltd., the show that says bugger the politicians & bureaucrats & all the other bossyboot busybodies who try to run our lives with our money; that stands tall for free enterprise, achievement, profit, & excellence, against the state-worshippers in our midst; that stands above all for the most sacred thing in the universe, the liberty of the human individual.
[Music up, music down!]
Fortunate indeed is the person who makes money doing something he enjoys. I place myself in this category - I enjoy hosting this programme immensely, notwithstanding the days like yesterday when the quality of some of the calls is suggestive of a full moon the night before. One of the delights of doing the show is Phil, my producer. You wouldn't believe some of the wicked things he says in my ear. Sometimes I repeat them, but mostly I don't, mindful of the constraints of good taste & decency. Then there's the banter we exchange while you're hearing a race, or the news, or commercials. Most of that is unbroadcastable as well. Phil keeps me laughing, even while having a million other buttons to push!
Phil has a small problem, however. Phil is not sure that he exists. Now this may strike you as odd, but it's quite a respectable problem in the circles in which Phil has moved. Phil, you see, did a bit of philosophy at university. Philosophers have always been a bit prone to wondering whether they exist or not, & this has rubbed off on Phil. Is he really here? Is everything he perceives, including himself, just an illusion, a cosmic practical joke played by a diabolical God? Are we just playthings hooked up to electrodes in a humungous vat?
Some philosophers gave up on this stuff after a while & said, in effect, "The hell with it. It sure FEELS as though we're here & we may as well go with the flow of our feelings, willy-nilly - ALL of them." Some of these were called existentialists. Other philosophers said, "My, THAT will never do," but agreed that the big questions should be permanently consigned to the too-hard basket & that philosophers should concern themselves with more mundane matters like clarifying the meanings of words. These were called "analytic" philosophers. Now you wouldn't want to be stuck in a lift with either an existentialist or an analytic philosopher. The existentialist might rape you, which could possibly be unpleasant; the analytical philosopher would bore you rigid with his analysis of the meaning of "stuck," which would definitely be excruciating.
All of this is by way of a warning - be a bit careful about reading philosophers. Many of them went mad, if they weren't already, & it's not hard to understand why. If you want philosophy underpinned by common sense, get yourself a copy of Philosophy, Who Needs It? by Ayn Rand.
Ah, but back to Phil, & whether he exists or not. My usual advice to people who have this uncertainty is to throw themselves off a tall building, but I wouldn't want Phil to do that, since I know he exists, & that he's a damn good producer. One thing I have noted - when a beautiful young lady walks by the control room, Phil suddenly seems to shed his doubts about his existence, & certainly displays none about hers.
Hmmm. Maybe there's the beginning of a whole new philosophical system here, based on the axiom, "I lust, therefore I am."
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