The Meaning of Life Page #6

Does N ietzsche

begin with an "S"?

There's an "S" in N ietzsche.

Oh, well, yes, there is.

Do all philosophers

have an "S" in them?

Yeah. I think most of them do.

Oh. Does that mean Selena

Jones is a philosopher?

Yeah! Right! She could be.

She sings about

the meaning of life.

Yeah. That's right, but I don't

think she writes her own material.

No. Oh, maybe Schopenhauer

writes her material.

No. Burt Bacharach writes it.

There's no "S"

in Burt Bacharach.

Or in Hal David.

Who's Hal David?

He writes the lyrics.

Burt just writes the tunes.

Only now, he's married

to Carole Bayer Sager.

Waiter? This conversation

isn't very good.

Oh, I'm sorry, sir. We do have

one today that's not on the menu.

It's sort of a specialty

of the house, you know?

Live organ transplants.

Live organ transplants?

What's that?

The Meaning of Life, part

five. Live organ transplants.

Don't worry, dear.

I'll get it.

Yes?

Hello. Can we have your liver?

What?

Your liver.

It's a large glandular organ

in your abdomen.

You know, it's

reddish-brown, it's sort of...

Yeah, yeah, I know what

it is, but I'm using it.

Come on, sir. Don't muck

us about. Hey, hey, hey!

Hello!

What's this, then?

A liver donor's card.

Need we say more?

No.

Listen, I can't give it to you now.

It says, "In the event of death. "

My God!

No one has ever had their liver

taken out by us and survived.

J ust lie there, sir.

It won't take a minute.

Here. What's going on?

He's donating

his liver, madam.

Is this because he took out

one of those silly cards?

That's right, madam.

Typical of him.

He goes down to the public

library, sees a few signs up,

comes home all full

of good intentions.

He gives blood, does cold

research, all that sort of thing.

What do you do

with them all, anyway?

They all go to

saving lives, madam.

That's what

he used to say.

"It's all for the good of

the country," he used to say.

Do you think it's all for

the good of the country?

H mm?

Do you think it's all for

the good of the country?

I wouldn't

know about that, madam.

We're just doing our jobs,

you know?

You're not doctors, then?

Oh, blimey, no.

Mum, Dad,

I'm off out now.

I'll see you about 7: 00?

Righto, son.

Look after yourself.

You fancy

a cup of tea?

Oh, well, that'd be

very nice. Thank you.

Thank you very much, madam. Thank you.

I thought

she'd never ask.

You do realize

he has to be, well, dead,

by the terms of the card,

before he donates his liver.

Well, I told him that, but he

never listens to me, silly man.

I mean,

I was wonderin'...

Well, you know, what you was

thinkin' of doin' after that.

I mean, will you stay

on your own?

Or is there, well,

someone else, sort of,

on the horizon?

I'm too old for that sort

of thing. I'm past my prime.

Not at all.

Very attractive woman.

Well, I'm certainly not thinking

of getting hitched up again.

Sure?

Sure.

Can we have your liver

then? I would be scared.

All right.

I'll tell you what.

Listen to this.

Whenever life gets

you down, Mrs. Brown

And things seem hard

or tough

And people are stupid,

obnoxious or daft

and you feel

that you"ve had

quite enough.

Just remember

that you"re standing

On a planet

that"s evolving

And revolving

at 900 miles an hour

It"s orbiting at 19 miles

a second so it's reckoned

A sun that is the source

of all our power

The sun and you and me and

all the stars that we can see

Are moving

at a million miles a day

In an outer spiral arm

at 40,000 miles an hour

Of the galaxy

we call the Milky Way

Our galaxy itself contains

a hundred billion stars

It's a hundred thousand

light years side to side

It bulges in the middle

16,000 light years thick

But out by us, it"s just

3,000 light years wide

We"re 30,000 light years

from galactic central point

We go round

every 200 million years

And our galaxy is only

one of millions of billions

In this amazing

and expanding universe

The universe itself keeps

on expanding and expanding

In all of the directions

it can whizz

As fast as it can go

The speed of light, you know

Twelve million miles a minute and

that's the fastest speed there is

So remember when you"re

feeling very small and insecure

How amazingly unlikely

is your birth

And pray that there"s intelligent

life somewhere up in space

'Cause there's bugger all

down here on Earth

Makes you feel so, sort of

insignificant, doesn't it?

Yeah. Yeah.

Can we have

your liver, then?

Yeah, all right.

You talked me into it.

Eric!

Which brings us, once again,

to the urgent realization

of just how much there is

still left to own.

Item six on the agenda,

the Meaning of Life.

Now, Harry, you've had

some thoughts on this.

I've had a team working on

this over the past few weeks,

and what we've come up with can be

reduced to two fundamental concepts.

One. People are not wearing enough hats.

Two. Matter is energy.

In the universe, there are many energy

fields which we cannot normally perceive.

Some energies have a spiritual

source, which act upon a person's soul.

However, this soul

does not exist ab initio,

as orthodox Christianity

teaches.

It has to be

brought into existence,

by a process of guided

self-observation.

However, this is rarely achieved,

owing to man's unique ability

to be distracted from spiritual

matters by everyday trivia.

What was that about

hats again?

Oh, people aren't

wearing enough.

Is this true?

Certainly.

Hat sales have increased,

but not pari passu,

as our research...

When you say "enough,"

enough for what purpose?

Can I just ask, with

reference to your second point,

when you say souls don't develop

because people become distracted...

Has anyone noticed

that building there before?

What?

Good Lord!

Good Lord!

The Crimson

Permanent Assurance!

We interrupt this film to apologize

for this unwarranted attack

by the supporting feature.

Luckily, we have been prepared

for this eventuality

and are now taking steps

to remedy it.

Thank you.

The Meaning of Life, part six.

The autumn years.

Good evening,

ladies and gentlemen.

Here's a little number I tossed

off recently in the Caribbean.

Isn"t it awfully nice

to have a penis

Isn"t it frightfully good

to have a dong

It"s swell to have a stiffy

It's divine to own a dick

From the tiniest little tadger

to the world"s biggest prick

So three cheers for your Willy

or John Thomas

Hooray for your

one-eyed trouser snake

Your piece of pork, your wife"s

best friend, your percy or your cock

You can wrap it up in ribbons

You can slip it in your sock

But don't take it out in public

or they will stick you in the dock

And you won"t come back

Thank you very much.

Oh, what a

frightfully witty song.

Terribly clever.

Jolly good.

Marvelous.

Oh, sh*t!

It's Mr. Creosote!

Good afternoon, sir,

and how are we today?

Better.

Better?

Better get a bucket.

I'm gonna throw up.

Gaston?

A bucket for monsieur.

There we are, monsieur.

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