At The solipsism Saloon

“Bartender, Solipsism on the rocks with a twist of amnesia,
please!”

“Do you want the Epistemological brand, or the Metaphysical
brand, sir?”

“Metaphysical, please, I had a rough day. I’m in no mood for
inquiries into philosophical constructions a la “Cogito ergo
sum.” I want to be alone, complete solitude.”

“Very well, sir, here is the bottle. As you can see it’s a bit
dusty, not in great demand nowadays.”

“May I read the label?”

“Certainly!”

“Let me see! It says, ‘the self is the whole of reality, and
that the external world and other persons are
representations of that self having no independent existence.’
Yes, that’s the one. Pour me a drink.”

“But, sir, If you are here alone, and I don’t exist, how can
I pour a drink?”

“Aha! That’s why I asked for it on the rocks, and with a
twist of amnesia.”

“What difference would that make?”

“Quite a bit, you see, if I had asked for it straight up,
then I would have been here all by myself. But on the
rocks with a twist of amnesia, I’m here twice, as
myself and as you, but not knowing you are me.”

“I don’t follow, sir.”

“It’s very simple. Have you heard of multiple personality
cases?”

“Like the movie ‘Sybil’, you mean?”

“Exactly. I’m everyone in the world, including you.
But while being you, I don’t remember being anyone
else. It’s not exactly like the movie because this is
happening simultaneously. I can see myself being
you, and still don’t recognize you as myself.”

“I don’t quite get it, but if you say so, I ‘ll play along.”

“Never mind. fix my drink!

“Hmm! Pretty good drink, Sir!”

“Hey, you took a big gulp of my drink!”

“Not at all, Sir. You did. You just don’t remember.”