We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
I have never been sure how much I do want to know myself. Dr. Dalrymple went to a neurosciences conference, and wrote a nifty report. One quote:
It will not have escaped the notice of the observant that Marxism and Freudianism have become a little frayed around the edges of late, and that their adherents are reduced to recalcitrant membership of increasingly beleaguered sects. But the attraction of all-embracing worldviews that explain not only who we are but prescribe how we ought to live remains as strong as ever. Some of the neuroscientists to whom I listened at the conference implied that we were on the verge of such a breakthrough in our self-understanding, thanks to neuroimaging, neurochemistry and neurogenetics and so forth, that Man, proud Man, will no longer be a mystery to himself. The heart of all our mysteries will be plucked out wholesale, as it were; and to understand all will then be not so much to forgive all as to control all, especially our bad habits.
How do I establish which one of me do I get to know first?
If one of me doesn't get along with another one of me who rules?
I'm afraid. Would each of you send me $20.00? Wait, hold off on that there may be more than two of me and we've already negotitated $10.00 per person. Ok, just go ahead and send $100.00. If there's that many me's I'll need to order pizza for us all so we can talk it over..Thx Habu
The only thing worse than the unexamined life is the overexamined life....Herewith, SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT From Monty Python....
Well that's all for Attila the Bun, and now - idiots!
A village idiot in smock and straw hat, red cheeks, straw in mouth, sitting on a wall, making funny noises and rolling his eyes.
Voice Over Arthur Figgis is an idiot. A village idiot. Tonight we look at the idiot in society.
Cut to close-up of Figgis talking to camera. Very big close-up losing the top and bottom of his head.
Figgis (educated voice) Well I feel very keenly that the idiot is a part of the old village system, and as such has a vital role to play in a modern rural society, because you see ... (suddenly switches to rural accent) ooh ar ooh ar before the crops go gey are in the medley crun and the birds slides nightly on the oor ar ... (vicar passes and gives him sixpence) Ooh ar thankee, Vicar ... (educated voice) There is this very real need in society for someone whom almost anyone can look down on and ridicule. And this is the role that ... ooh ar naggy gamly rangle tandie oogly noogle Goblie oog ... (passing lady gives him sixpence) Thank you, Mrs Thompson... this is the role that I and members of my family have fulfilled in this village for the past four hundred years... Good morning, Mr Jenkins, ICI have increased their half-yearly dividend, I see.
We see Mr Jenkins pass, he is also an idiot, identically dressed.
Mr Jenkins Yes, splendid.
Figgis That's Mr Jenkins - he's another idiot. And so you see the idiot does provide a vital psycho-social service for this community. Oh, excuse me, a coach party has just arrived. I shall have to fall off the wall, I'm afraid.
He falls backwards off the wall. Cut to Figgins in idiot's costume coming out of a suburban home. He walks on to the lawn on which are several pieces of gym equipment. He runs head-on into horse (speeded up) and falls over, concussed.
Voice Over Arthur takes idiotting seriously. He is up at six o'clock every morning working on special training equipment designed to keep him silly. And of course he takes great pride in his appearance.
Figgis, dressed in nice clean smock, jumps into a pond. He immediately scrambles up, pulls out a mirror and pats mud an his face critically, as if making-up.
Voice Over Like the doctor, the blacksmith, the carpenter, Mr Figgis is an important figure in this village and - like them - he uses the local bank.
Village square. A bank. Figgis is walking towards it. People giggling and pointing. He goes into a silly routine. Figgis enters the bank. Cut to bank manager standing outside bank.
CAPTION: 'M. BRANDO - BANK MANAGER'
Bank Manager Yes, we have quite a number of idiots banking here.
Voice Over What kind of money is there in idioting?
Manager Well nowadays a really blithering idiot can make anything up to ten thousand pounds a year - if he's the head of some big industrial combine. But of course, the more old-fashioned idiot still refuses to take money.
We see Figgis handing over a cheque to cashier; cashier pushes across a pile of moss, pebbles, bits of wood and acorns.
Manager (voice over) He takes bits of string, wood, dead budgerigars, sparrows, anything, but it does make the cashier's job very difficult; but of course they're fools to themselves because the rate of interest over ten years on a piece of moss or a dead vole is almost negligible.
A clerk appears at door of bank.
Clerk Mr Brando.
Clerk Hollywood on the phone.
Manager I'll take it in the office.
Cut to a woodland glade.
Voice Over But Mr Figgis is no ordinary idiot. He is a lecturer in idiocy at the University of East Anglia. Here he is taking a class of third-year students.
Half a dozen loonies led by Figgis come dancing through the glade singing tunelessly. They are wearing long University scarves.
Voice Over After three years of study these apprentice idiots receive a diploma of idiocy, a handful of mud and a kick on the head.
A vice-chancellor stands in a University setting with some young idiots in front of him. They wear idiot gear with BA hoods. One walks forward to him, he gets a diploma, a faceful of mud and stoops to receive his kick on the head. Cut to happy parents smiling proudly.
Voice Over But some of the older idiots resent the graduate idiot.
Old Idiot I'm a completely self-taught idiot. I mean, ooh arh, nob arhh, nob arhh .... nobody does that anymore. Anybody who did that round here would be laughed off the street. No, nowadays people want something wittier.
Wife empties breakfast over him. Cut to idiot falling repeatedly off a wall.
Voice Over Kevin O'Nassis works largely with walls.
Kevin (voice over) You've got to know what you're doing. I mean, some people think I'm mad. The villagers say I'm mad, the tourists say I'm mad, well I am mad, but I'm naturally mad. I don't use any chemicals.
Voice Over But what of the idiot's private life? How about his relationship with women?
Idiot in bed. Pull back to reveal he shares it with two very young, thin, nude girls.
Idiot Well I may be an idiot but I'm no fool.