Four Drunken Scribes

Four Scribes attended a symposium at the Fair of En’Kara – which is to say, they got together and had a lot to drink. Coincidentally, they were all shared the names of famous Earth philosophers, and they discussed philosophy before eventually winding up under the table after displaying certain signs of advanced intoxication. Over the next morning’s black wine they pieced together the events of the night before:

• “Do you always sing like that when you’re filthy drunk, Socrates?” demanded one.
• Socrates snorted and rubbed his aching head. “At least I didn’t fall over,” he retorted, “and that on nothing but Ka-la-na.”
• “That’s why I never touch the stuff,” muttered Plato. “It’s paga every time for me.”
• “And at least I didn’t start hiccuping all over the place,” said the logical positivist, somewhat sniffily.
• At this point two identical twin slaves arrived with more black wine, and the four Scribes fell briefly silent, much on their High Caste dignity. Then three pairs of bloodshot eyes turned accusingly on Aristotle. “You hardly touched your drinks all night,” said one of the three. “A contemptible piece of shirking. We all drank more than you did.”
• Aristotle looked sheepish, but the logical positivist said, “At least I drank more than you did. You should have had room for a few more, what with all that burping.”
• “And at least I drank more than our friend the nihilist,” said the Sul paga drinker.
• Alcohol fumes swirled through several heads as they tried to remember who had talked about nihilism. It wasn’t Diogenes, they knew. He had had plenty to say, but it was all about cynicism.
• “Don’t put on airs.” After a long pause, the Scribe from whom the occasional discreet burp was still escaping regarded the Sul paga drinker with a lofty expression. “I drank far more than you did.”

Who drank Kal-da? Who talked about non-determinism?