Limmy’s Show

December 7, 2012

For some reason this is only on BBC Scotland.
But it is on the iplayer- wahey!
Anyway, I laughed…


One of the all-time greats from the original Pabs…

The ‘Summat Different’ Principle

Rabs Inc


The history of this philosophical principle dates back to the early 21st Century, originating from D. Woolley. There are no written records to date explaining its functions, so the following is an attempt to sketch out the principle as an important step in contemporary ethical debate.

The principle is one that aims at the promotion of pleasure for an individual or group, where the value of the activity is to be found in its relative uniqueness to the subject’s totality of experiences.

In this way, it can be seen as a descendant of Aristotle’s thoughts on virtue ethics, where a ‘good citizen’ espouses key virtues such as honesty, strength, courage etc. Achieving a balance of these virtues at every moment is the means to overall happiness, or eudaimonia. The right way to act is established through achieving the mean of 2 extremes. A good citizen, on being approached by a bottle-wielding drunk, will respond not by running away crying (weakness), nor by charging in with a knife (foolhardiness), but with a considered, perhaps diplomatic intervention that results in minimal violence and resolves an immediately dangerous situation (courage).

The ‘Summat Different’ principle is one such mean of virtues that requires an important calculation. Its practical application can be seen in terms of choices of agents. Where the application is applied correctly, it will contribute to ones experience of eudaimonia, as it is in itself one of the contributory virtues.

Consider the following example, where our agent must choose between an old experience, one indeed from which he had derived some pleasure, versus choosing a new experience, one where the pleasure gained is unknown. The assumption with the theory is that the choice that provides the most pleasure is the right choice:

In the example:

X is the agent
Y is the act of going to a known drinking establishment close to ones home (where pleasure had previously been experienced)
Z is the act of visiting a previously unvisited drinking establishment (where there had been no prior experience of pleasure)

Previously, the utilitarian would have made a direct and logical jump from X to Y.

The ‘Summat Different’ principle allows us to jump form X to Z without committing a falsehood, and despite apparent paradox, maximising the pleasure of the agent.

This is achieved with a number of key assumptions:

– That there is inherent value in the experience of something new
– That the agent is sound of mind
– That the agent has the ability to judge
– That the choice that provides the most pleasure is the right choice

There is, however, a potential problem. At some stage, Y will have been Z – the agent at some stage would have visited the drinking establishment close to home for the first time, where it would have been an unchartered pleasure-seeking activity.

But this indeed is the beauty and strength of the principle: Woolley is highlighting the flaws of the lazy utilitarian. To derive greater pleasure in this one must choose Z for there to be Y. The more Z, the more pleasure is to be experienced.

Of course the principle requires a careful calculation on the part of the agent. The assumptions are key. Only a foolhardy agent would assume that Woolley means that to choose Y in every instant will be the right choice. Note:

That the agent is sound of mind
That the agent has the ability to judge

These assumptions rule out a ‘tabula rasa’ of decisions. This allows us to rule out ill-considered evenings spent in a Wetherspoons pub, but rather assumes a level of sound judgement, where the agent has at his expense a collection of empirical data, through the use, for example, of modern internet facilities or a verbal recommendation from a trusted agent (also of sound mind and judgement.)

In this way the principle goes further than previous ethical theories and provides the pleasure-seeking citizen with a useful tool to navigate his or her way through what are sometimes challenging ethical territories. The ‘Summat Different’ principle highlights not only the inadequacy of supine utilitarian logic, but actively encourages ethical responses that are both necessary and virtuous

‘Monopoly’ by Paul Farley

November 20, 2012

Paul Farley

(part of the Poems on the Underground series)

We sat like slum landlords around the board
buying each other out with fake banknotes,
until we lost more than we could afford,
or ever hope to pay back. Now our seats
are empty — one by one we left the game
to play for real, at first completely lost
in this other world, its building sites, its rain;
but slowly learned the rules and made our own,
stayed out of jail and kept our noses clean.
And now there’s only me — sole freeholder
of every empty office space in town,
and from the quayside I can count the cost
each low tide brings — the skeletons and rust
of boats, cars, hats, boots, iron, a terrier.


An excellent episode of Breaking Bad put me onto this poem, from Walt Whitman.

WHEN I heard the learn’d astronomer;

When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me;

When I was shown the charts and the diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them;

When I, sitting, heard the astronomer, where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room,

How soon, unaccountable, I became tired and sick;

Till rising and gliding out, I wander’d off by myself,

In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,

Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.



Batley Boy

October 24, 2012

Not Welcome Round Here

October 5, 2012

Not Welcome Round Here

A short play in one act, by DW


A small ex-mining community in the Welsh valleys. A number of the locals have gathered in the pub to discuss the recent revelations about Sir Jimmy Savile.

Owen:                 I say we hang the bastard!

Hugh:                  Aye, let’s hang him!

Maureen:             Hanging’s too good for folk like that.

Johnno:               We can’t hang him, he’s already dead!

Hugh:                  Serves him right, after what he’s done.

Gareth:               How’s about that then, guys and gals?

Owen:                It’s no laughing matter this, Gareth

Hugh:                 Are we hanging him or not then?

Johnno:              No. He’s already dead.

Hugh:                 Can’t we dig him up and hang him again?

Maureen:            Being dug up’s too good for folk like that.

Gareth:               Now then, now then.

Owen:                I’m warning you, Gareth…

Dafydd:              I know, let’s give him a proper good fiddling. See how he likes it.

Hugh:                 But he’s been knighted hasn’t he? You can’t fiddle a knight; it goes against tradition.

Johnno:               He’ll have rigor bloody mortis!

Owen:                 Rigor mortis’ll be the least of his bleedin’ worries when I get my hands on him…

Maureen:             Rigor mortis is too good for folk like that.

As the conversation continues, the curtain falls.


The Business Development Manager

by DW


He talked endlessly about solutions

without ever actually offering one

and his very presence in your life

tended to present a problem


I had to call him once

(the reason escapes me now)

he answered the call

and explained that he was in a car park

at the supermarket

and the ground was icy

and his wife had just fallen over

and she seemed to be in distress

and would I mind if he called me back later?

because he needed to help his wife


we hung up

and I could picture him all too clearly:

the Business Development Manager

driving around the supermarket car park

assessing the various parking spaces

drawing up a mental shortlist

carrying out a cost-benefit analysis of each shortlisted space

ranking them in order of preference

completing another half lap

then pulling carefully into the chosen spot

perfectly oblivious to the large patch of ice underneath the passenger door

from which his long-suffering wife would exit



September 19, 2012

The Badger

August 23, 2012

The Badger

(or: the alternative life of Roy Hodgson, v1 – the original)

by G Bolongaro

The door from the conference hall felt heavy as Roy pushed it open and stepped into the lobby of the Bedford conference centre. Roy Hodgson. The last of the great ICI sales reps. Known affectionately to colleagues throughout the 70’s as ‘the badger.’ His reputation built in the early Thatcher years. First resisting than embracing modernisation when it had seemed the right time. He’d effectively sewn up the central African market just as British influence was on the wane.

Now the paisley carpet of the hospitality suite seemed to root him awkwardly in the middle of the walkway; hand in one pocket, watery scotch in the other. His name clip askew. A laminated remnant of a more strident time.

Once a young delegate would have taken his arm and ushered him warmly from group to group. Now he scanned the room for a familiar face. Colleagues, rivals and friends now gone.  To golf. To Malaga. To angina.  Ken stone, Rodger Dyke. Both Agnew brothers.  All of them gone.  Eyes that were once eager and respectful now seemed condescending, pitying even.  He remembered what Rodger had said to him in his office the day before his resignation, “We’re just artefacts now Roy. Ornaments pulled out of our boxes twice a year for show. Don’t become a relic Roy. ”

He finally shuffled forward for the lobby walk he’d promised Val would be his last. As he lifted the glass the vague chemical sting of the cheap malt took him  back to the that processing plant in Nairobi, where as a young rep he had paused on the gantry to watch some school children on a visit  gather around one of the large vats. A tiny voice had seemed to pierce the metallic din, and he again felt that dizziness he had felt then looking down as the boy’s question rang out around the vast industrial hull:

“What is all this for?”