Beware the Flamingos of the Mind

The ordinary could make partial sense of my Equation “I + Not-I = Everything”; they could readily locate the “I-of-themselves,” but would take the “Not-I” part as being clearly “out there,” existing somewhere other than still in their own inner “I.”  To City eyes, the Equation seems to patently affirm that “A is A,” and “B is B,” but the Revolutionary understanding of it is that “A is also B,” and “B, A.”  (It is only after you escape the metropolitan grip that mathematics begin to smile, to sing and dance for your supper.)

It is, as you might have suspected, good ole Yellow-Circuit-City Consciousness that not only concocted the word “infinity,” but then went right on to perceive of it as a posthumous affair.  (Couldn’t you sometimes just “pick up” the City and give it a big ole hug and shake?)

If one person tells you they “like you but don’t understand you,” you have dominating traits.

If more than one person says they “like you but don’t understand you,” you have charisma.

If many people say that they “respect you but don’t particularly like you,” then you have the marina to launch an armada of potential grief.

I heard that at one City hospital a chap showed up late one evening absolutely insisting on surgery to remove, as he put it, his “I-like-and-don’t-like-gland.”  (Lucky for him Dr. Yoohoo wasn’t on call.)

Beware the flamingos of the mind.

Then there was this entertainer who was less than fully confident of his dominant position who had an unlisted microphone.

J.