Me:

Dio old chum, you've been seen walking around with that lamp, looking for an honest man. How is the search coming?

Diogenes:

I'll give you a shout when I find one. And don't call me Dio. Most people call me "The Dog", and I don't mind, since dogs are not pretentious and self-righteous like humans.

Me:

Perhaps your standards are too high for mere mortals. We cannot be godlike, after all.

Diogenes:

Don't get me started on the gods.

Me:

Well, I've known some men and women who seem honorable.

Diogenes:

Honor, and its subordinate virtue, honesty, cannot be determined by simple proclamation. It must be tested. Any fool can claim to be honorable when there is no reason to behave otherwise.

Me:

Hmm. I think I see what you mean. So a virtue such as honor must be tested by presenting someone with a real ethical dilemma.

Diogenes:

You might learn something that way. Or not.

Me:

Okay, let me set up an example. Let's pretend I'm wealthy and have a house full of servants.

Diogenes:

(interrupting) I have no interest in wealth. Nothing good comes of wealth. It just distracts you from mastery of yourself, which is the only worthy goal, after all.

Me:

Well, I've heard that you sleep in a simple tub, with no roof over your head. Is there some advantage to living that way?

Diogenes:

Of course. No window can give a view like this, and if the neighborhood goes bad, I can just walk off with the house.

Me:

I see. The rent must be cheap too. So how do you earn money to buy food?

Diogenes:

It was making coin that caused me to move to Athens, from Sinope, but we'll save that story for another time. When I arrived in Athens to begin my career as a philosopher, I got a moonlighting job - begging. I went to every statue in town and asked for money.

Me:

Why statues?

Diogenes:

It got me used to being rejected. I learned to never measure my worth by what others think if me. After a time, I tried my technique on people. I told each one that if he had given to other beggars, then he should give to me as well. If not, he should start with me.

Me:

How did that go?

Diogenes:

I lost 30 pounds and gained a philosophy. Were you trying to tell me a story?

Me:

(scratching my head) Oh yeah, I got off track there. Let's say I'm wealthy with a bunch of servants, and I have a head servant who made sure my house was well kept for many years. She even fixed it up and made it better than when she started. Then, one day, this faithful servant does a thing which causes some of the other servants to become upset, and I am embarrassed by it all.

Diogenes:

So? And she is still keeping your house well?

Me:

Well, yes, but I still have to decide a punishment for this servant, right? Or I could just turn her out in the street and find another...

Diogenes:

You would punish such a faithful servant in this way? Would not both of you lose something you need? If this ethical dilemma is too difficult for you, you are not ready to borrow my lamp. Of course she may be better off getting a tub of her own and living like me, so she wouldn't have to worry if your good will would suddenly disappear.

Me:

Diogenes, do you have a book of writings, that I may learn of your rules for living?

Diogenes:

If you were given a tray with real fruit and artificial fruit, would you eat the painted wax? My philosophy is how I live. If I cannot depend on my principles, my senses, and my mind to determine which fruit is real and which is false, why would blindly obeying some set of rules be any better?

Me:

I think I see your point. But how do I make sure my principles are sound?

Diogenes:

You could speak with some of those do-nothing philosophers we have hanging around Athens if you aren't wise enough to think through things on your own.

Me:

Well, I hear you're acquainted with Plato. Perhaps I could get an introduction?

Diogenes:

Plato said people are nothing but featherless bipeds. I brought him a plucked chicken, and he simply added broad nails to his definition. Are you sure you want his advice?

Me:

Well, who else do you know?

Diogenes:

I've made the acquaintance of Alexander the Great, but I can't recommend him either.

Me:

Why not?

Diogenes:

He came upon me while I was sunning myself. Plenty of sun in Athens you know. He stood all tall and pompous there, bending right over me, and said, "So you are Diogenes - what boon do you desire?"

Me:

And What did you ask for?

Diogenes:

I told him he could quit blocking my light.

Me:

Lucky you weren't killed if his reputation is true. I think I'll stick with Plato, if you don't mind. I want to believe in the basic goodness of my fellow man, and I understand he has some things to say about the nature of man.

Diogenes:

I'll see what I can do. Next month at the earliest. But don't hold your breath. See you around.