Playboy: A case of cruel to be kind?

Cowell: Yes.

Playboy: Have you ever said anything you regret?

Cowell: Yeah, many, many times. But having said that----

Playboy: You'd do it again?

Cowell: [Laughs] You have to go into an audition room and say what's on your mind. Maybe when you watch it later you're in a good mood, but at the audition you were in a bad mood, so you go, "Oh God, I went a bit too far." Or the backstory comes into the equation, which you don't hear in the audition--the singer's dog died yesterday, he walks in and you're really dismissive.

Playboy: Do you look at contestants and think, Oh, you poor shmuck?

Cowell: Yeah, I think that a lot. I mean, the odds are just appalling. I'm actually quite happy when a 17-year-old walks in and sings badly, I tell them they sing badly, and they go, "Thank you for saving me from a lifetime of pain." No problem--shake my hand! Enjoy your life.

Playboy: Are you playing a character on the show?

Cowell: I wouldn't say that. If you ask my friends if the person on TV is who they know in real life, most would say I'm exactly like that.

Playboy: So far you've been pretty nice to us. Where's the sarcasm?

Cowell: Well, you haven't asked me to judge you, really.

Playboy: Okay, then, how are the questions so far?

Cowell: Interesting. And strange--not many people have asked me if I'd sign a murderer.

Playboy: You realize the show's more interesting if you play the villain.

Cowell: On TV I feel a sense of freedom to be more unpleasant than I would be in a social environment. I can't bear political correctness. I absolutely loathe it. I sort of feel I'm in this brilliant PC-free zone for a while, where I can be more real and say what people normally say. There's no script and no rehearsals; all I have to do is play it for real. And if occasionally I go, "I've got nothing to say," I'm still paid to say that.

Playboy: You're known for wearing black T-shirts. Do you genuinely like them, or have they become a trademark?

Cowell: I think the black T-shirt thing has to go. I saw myself wearing a tight black T-shirt recently and thought I looked ridiculous. I'm too old for that.

Playboy: The New York Times reported you earn more than $30 million a year from Fox. Is that too high, too low or about right?

Cowell: I have a confidentiality agreement, so I cannot discuss that. Seriously, I would love to tell you, but I can't.

Playboy: If it's more than $30 million, tap your foot twice.

Cowell: I'm smiling. It was a good deal.

Playboy: And you work on the show only for an hour and a half a week.

Cowell: Yes, when the show goes live, it's an hour and a half of screen time.

Playboy: It's not an arduous job, is it?

Cowell: No, it's not.

Playboy: The past season was pretty controversial. You made some comments about performers' weight and sexuality.

Cowell: Whose?

Playboy: You don't remember saying about Mandisa, "Do we have a bigger stage?"

Cowell: Oh that. That was a bit controversial, yeah. I'm not excusing what I said, but she had left the room. I was being a smartass, and it was picked up on camera. Under normal circumstances that would not be in the show. I was uncomfortable about it.

Playboy: How about the Charles Barry comment?

Cowell: Who's he?

Playboy: The guy you said should shave his beard and wear a dress.

Cowell: Oh him. I thought that was a good comment.

Playboy: You don't think you were baiting him and implying he was gay?

Cowell: No! Look, in my view, he was gay. Who cares? He would probably make more money singing in drag clubs than trying to be an R&B singer.

Playboy: Ah, so you were suggesting a career path for him. You were being helpful yet again.

Cowell: Yes, I was. I thought so. He didn't. I don't think there was too much controversy about that. I know the Mandisa thing caused problems. Let's put it this way: I wouldn't have booked myself on The View the week after that.