We interrupt the space aliens broadcasting through the fillings in your teeth to bring you the following important message...

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Welcome back.  This is your host, Cousin Stevie.  (We're not real cousins.  We're not related and I don't know you.  "Cousin Stevie" is my radio persona, only). Today's guest, P.M. Mandelbaum, was wandering around outside looking for a crevice, but he stumbled inadvertently into our broadcast booth instead, so now we're interviewing him.

Cousin Stevie: Sir, How would you describe your philosophy?
PMM:  I guess it's a little Zen.


Cousin Stevie:  And what is Zen?  What does that mean to you?

PMM:  I have no idea what Zen is.

Cousin Stevie:  Then why do you say that Zen is your philosophy?

PMM:   Of all the philosophies, it's the easiest to pronounce.  And spell.

Cousin Stevie:  Do you have any other criteria for choosing a philosophy?
PMM:   No.  Just those two.

Cousin Stevie:  Would you say, then, that in appropriating an epistemological discipline, you have bored through the meta-levels of evolved consciousness deep into the psychic construct to posit an approximate model of the origins of cognition?

PMM:  Would I! Except, instead of "bored through the meta-levels," I was going to say "exfoliated the derma layers."  But other than that, you took the words right out of my mouth.  Kidnapped them, you might say.

Cousin Stevie: Why don't we take a few calls from our listeners? Hello, you're on the air with Cousin Stevie.  (We're not real cousins.  We're not related and I don't know you.  "Cousin Stevie" is my radio persona, only). What's your question for our guest, Caller?

Caller 1:  

Χι. Ωουλδ υου υσε βλεαχ βιθ κολορφαστ, ορ δο υου νοτ τρυστ θε λαβελ?

PMM:  What's that, you say? Bleach with a mixed laundry load of colored and whites? That's flirting with danger, my friend.  I wouldn't go there.

Cousin Stevie:  Thanks for that, caller. We have time for a couple more.  Hello, you're on the air.  What's your question for our guest?

Caller 2:  ವೆನ್ ಥೆಯ್ ಸೆ, "ಇಟ್ ನೆವರ್ ರೈನ್ಸ್, ಬಟ್ ಇಟ್ ಪೌರ್ಸ್," ಇಸ್ ದಿಸ್ ಅ ಕ್ರೊಕ್?

PMM: "It never rains, but it pours?" I never really understood that, either. I just...I don't really agree with it.  It puts me in mind of salt.

Cousin Stevie:  Thank you, caller.  Hello, you're on the air.  What's your question?

Caller 3: Thanks for taking my call, Cousin Stevie.  Could we be related?

Cousin Stevie:  We're not related and I don't know you. 

Caller 3:  OK, OK.

Cousin Stevie: "Cousin Stevie" is my radio persona, only.

Caller 3:  OK.

Cousin Stevie: Don't come to my house.

Caller 3: Oh, alright.  

Cousin Stevie:  What's your question for our guest? 

Caller 3:   Just this. Whenever I drive through a residential neighborhood, and I see a sign that says "Slow Children,"  I'm not sure whether they want me to reduce my speed, or whether, as a public service, they're just telling me that the kids on that block are dim-witted.  Thoughts?

PMM: Well, I can't be certain,  but I would have to guess it's a little of both. Sometimes, the signs say, "Drive Slow Children." I guess it's a warning that you should skedaddle before you get accosted by a nincompoop on a tricycle. It's like one of the other oft-misunderstood signs: "DANGER(?) NO(!) SWIMMING(!). Municipalities, as cost-cutting measures, often omit the punctuation (I supplied them in this example), and that's why people sometimes get confused.

Caller 3: Thank you.

PMM:  Go jump in a lake.  It's perfectly safe.

Caller 3: Thank you very much.

Cousin Stevie:  Thank you, caller.  And thank you for stopping in, Mr. Mandelbaum.  This has been somewhat engaging.

PMM: Not at all. 

 Cousin Stevie:  Yes it has.

PMM: No, I mean, "You're welcome." 

Cousin Stevie:  Thank you. 

PMM: Not at all.  

Cousin Stevie:  You're welcome.

PMM: Somewhat

  

This is Cousin Stevie saying "goodbye for now."   Remember. We're not real cousins.  We're not related and I don't know you.  "Cousin Stevie" is my radio persona, only.

PMM:  Can I please wake up, now?