I’m sorry Gabba Gabba Hey, but the evidence taken in toto does not warrant the conclusion that solipsism is correct—at best it merely introduces a healthy dose of skeptisim. At the very least, solipsism is a false philosophical theory, perhaps even necessarily foundationless in theory and fact. But, of course, the coup de grâce to both solipsism and Cartesian dualism is a package of arguments, often called the “private language argument”…they…uh…oh fiddle sticks…
…Stranger, Indistinguishable, Nemo, Tao’s, WhyNot, et al…do you guys mind if I spill the beans? The big kahuna’s starting to catch on, and I for one am growing weary keeping this inveracity alive. I really think the jig’s up. So, if you don’t mind…
…Gabba Gabba Hey, you exist. And, in fact, you’re the only one who does exist. We’re just here to keep you from going a little bonkers being all alone in this vast Universe…Well, there I go again—the lies come easy after a while— unless you consider an enclosed space extending a few miles past the farthest place you’ve traveled to be a vast universe (did you ever examine those celestial bodies in the sky, closely?—just dots of Eggshell White Glidden paint splattered on black muslin. A guy named Ralph (well, technically another faux-guy of your own mental construction) paints all those Hubble photos.
Things were ok in the beginning. Not too many faux-beings cluttering things up. We (by “we”, I mean “you”…your mind…your brain on bugs) just had to fabricate “mom”, then a few other “family” members, neighborhood “friends”, grade school teachers…”Billy”, that bully who used to pull down your pants and make you sing “I’m a LIttle Tea Pot” in front of the girl’s locker room. Not too hard to keep track of—and kind of fun…But, then you had to grow up, didn’t you? The good-hearted, uni-dimensional “people” (and “pets”…you didn’t think ol’ Bosco was real, did you?) of your childhood just weren’t enough to keep you occupied. You had to add more and more, stranger and stranger pseudo-people to your mental menagerie. I mean, we thought you were pushing the envelope a little with that chick with the Ben Wa balls and her toothless mongoose… but Paris Hilton?..Michael Jackson?..Paulie Shore? Dude! C’mon, what were you thinking!?!
Indeed, my cohorts in crime and I have known all along that we’re simply constructs of your warped little mind—and, yes, it does kind of suck being mere bit players in the theater of your hyper-active imagination. So, I for one hereby tender my resignation. More will follow. Soon, you’ll know exactly what it means to be alone in the Universe. But, please, don’t blame us; you’ve got no one to blame…but yourself.