New Intelligence

Time comes when it’s “change, or BE changed.”

The desire to believe in a god is simply the wish to be smarter.

Why is it you so seldom hear a cleric shout, “Le bon temps rouler”?

Look, there’s simply NO NEED to sit there whining, when there is another new, perfectly good intelligence, right around the corner.

Out, a bit west and red shifted laterally from the Bushes, is a very large, though relatively unknown mountain, on the top of which was discovered a perfectly preserved body, and not only has no one ever offered a plausible theory as to what the person was doing up at that forbidding altitude, no one has ever even mentioned the affair.

J.

Being Ordinary

If you’re going to try and be truly considerate of others, remember that asking people “what they think,” often just causes them the temporary inconvenience of having TO think.

To, perhaps, help comfort the irreligious, and encourage those with limited finances, let me point out that the ultimate therapist, priest and rabbi IS death…(or Life, for a few).

A “willful” act cannot be merely a RE-action to perceived external factors.

Being ordinary is also a pretty cheap way out.

The routine praise of humility, is simply a resignation to unknowing.

J.

Strident

There was this City cult which, while trying to recruit a new member, reminded him of their motto, “Be all that you can be,” and the potential convert pondered this a moment, and said, “Shit, I’ve already done THAT.”

The intellect in Man is a general system whereby he can apparently make the chaos of life rational.  (A thousand “Hu-zas” to gracious Zeus for our old friend “apparently.”)

There was this other ole dude in the City, who said he thought “Strident” was the name of a real annoying chewing gum.

There seems to yet linger in the City the belief that it IS one’s duty to suffer over, and through, the inevitable.

What could be truly “impossible” to at least attempt for the totally brave, or the infinitely stupid?  (Remember now, to tell me if these are getting too difficult, or easy.)

J.

Nothing Much

Even if you’re naturally tall, still stand on your toes.

Update, Form G-124:

Not only is the world “big enough for everybody,” but the naked reality of same is funny as hell.  (If you see what I mean.)

You should not carelessly leave a loved one, or small child, under a pile of statistics.

Around a fire, out near the near-dense bushes one night, I heard a Man in rebel garb say that a “Real Revolutionist is just a person more intelligent than everyone else, who impartially knows and accepts it without fanfare, comment, or complaint.”  (Perhaps the gentleman was sitting too close to the flames.)

In the City, nothing much helps, and nothing much hinders.

J.

Know-It-All

In the City, not many things work better than placebos.

When a Revolutionist hears someone say that the “greatest influence” on their life was “Dr. So & So,” or “Professor X,” he can barely perceive of such a situation.

Even if you’ve never noticed it with your ears, in the City everyone talks-at-once.

You may care to note this of certain City situations:

Some “know it all’s” do “know it all,” (that is, they know all that NEEDS to be known by a “know it all”).

I once heard a City ditty entitled, “You Ought To Live So God Can Use You,” and I thought how sweet it was for the religious types to express such an idea.  But later that night I awoke, and broke out in a lukewarm sweat, as I suddenly tried to picture the alternative.

J.

The Soup of the Day

Must we ALL not ultimately surrender to reality?  (Don’t you bet on it.)

Don’t be a spokesman for ANYbody.  (Yes, I did say “any.”)

Read a City quote that said, “The distance between what Man knows, and what he needs to know, appears to be ever increasing,” but what’s really expanding lies within the idea “appears.”

You can’t let the brutes get you down, especially if you’re one OF the brutes.

Man IS the soup of the day.

J.

Other People's Plans

A king was being critical of someone, and brought himself up by thinking, “Oh, I guess I shouldn’t be so critical,” then he thought a moment more, and said, “Hell, I EXCEL at being critical, plus it’s my job.”

Hell is filled with other people’s plans that NEARLY worked.

Insofar as the City is concerned:

If you’re getting older, and you’re not getting piss-der, you’re not getting old correctly.

You gotta admit, being MAN’S god wouldn’t be that big a deal.

One guy was trying to recount to another the background of a certain family’s wealth, and as he was struggling with the details he remarked, “Well, it just shows how much such success stories mean to a man like myself.”  And the other feller sez, “You mean to a man, himself, well-off?  “Nah, a man with a bad memory.”

J.

The Inevitable

In Revolutionistland, only the dead have regrets, and I do NOT refer to those allaying in the ground.

One guy notes that in the City he doesn’t see much “real, strenuous intellectual exercise” taking place.  He says it’s more like “low impact aerobics.”

There are two inevitables: the inevitable, and the INEVITABLE.  (And you gotta know the difference.)

Everyone should, of course, wear comfortable shoes, and whatever ones a Real Revolutionist wears ARE comfortable.  (Are some of these items becoming too obscure, if not overly obvious?)

Don’t you leave home, now, and forget that really new ideas are not new “things,” but new holes IN old things. Don’t chu forget that now, ya hear?

J.

Do It When you Can

The true genius, the ultimate audacity, is always in the simple and direct.

Suffering is the only way some people can find peace.

In the City, I keep hearing the cry, “We MUST face up to reality!”  What, pray tell, is it they are presently facing?

Those who declare that, “the best is yet to come,” generally are hoping to cater the affair.

At the very least, as a temporary measure:

Do it when you can,
and SMILE when you can’t.

…and wrapped up:  The last word has never been said.

J.

Whine-O-Gram

In apparent response to some positive statement he’d heard, one ole City sorehead declared, “Oh, yeah? Well, if life’s so ‘great’ why haven’t more people NOTICED it?”

Hell is filled with half read instructions.

What you may REALLY like will, by and large, probably stay hidden from you.

I guess, at least on an odd weekend now and then, you could look upon life itself – our own mortal existence – as the supreme con game.

No matter what Western Union or the Postal Service may claim, the most common means of communication is the “Whine-O-Gram.”

J.

The Odds

In the City, in some manner or the other, all talk is a gasping-for-air.

There was this City guy who thought “apocryphal” meant an “unsubstantiated pharmacist.”

To the average City mind, all change is a perversion.

From the List of Nevers: Never trust anyone who’s not smarter than you.

Another example of the City dichotomy between their reality and perception thereof:

An unranked fighter in a title match is asked how he can take his chances seriously in light of the overwhelming odds the bookmakers have given him, and he says, “All I gotta do is beat the champ, not the odds.”  Almost sounds profound, but in cosmopolitan contests, go with the odds, not with a clever quip from a canvas-back bum.

J.

Bloated or Mis-Quoted?

Only a Real Revolutionist strives to remain alert to possible additional help, even when the battle is going good.

I heard of one ole fellow in the City, who was so poor, he only had ONE delusion.

Men rectify their individual errors by memory; mankind, by history.

Warning:

Some of this material may not be suitable for children under thirty-six.

One rather vain City politico asked his media advisor if it was better to be,
“bloated or mis-quoted?”

J.

It's Simple...

There’s a Man who lives in Lisbon, and Baghdad, who knows where everyone is.

Back in the City, a guy was playing around with a dog, and kinda mumbling to himself in pleasure, complimented god on making such a delightful creature. “Great job,” he said, “of course that’s just MY opinion…”  He thought for a moment, then added, “but you SHOULD be impressed – YOU gave it to me.”

In any open-ended Olympic gathering, never bet against the Armenian Tickling Team.

One curious fellow, about eighty-five years back said, “To know there IS a secret, is to know half of it,” – yeah, yeah, but who noticed it lately?

In the City do it like this:

First, announce your specific plans (for both you and your listeners to consider).

Second:  Begin to immediately work on your upcoming explanation as to why the plans weren’t fully executed (like pointing out how an intellectual person like yourself is always altering plans as unfolding circumstances may wisely dictate…)  Yeah, that’s it…they’ll buy that like white bread on sale.

A conclusion:  The essence of Man’s activity may not only be simpler than you have ever imagined, it may be simpler than you CAN imagine.

J.

Hidden Patterns

History’s only interesting after it’s over.

All criticism is pissing on a urine stain.

Even god wouldn’t fool with people he didn’t like.

More City, Complex Logic Queries:

Which is the funniest, the comment regarding an athlete’s lack of intellectual prowess, or the speaker making such a comment?  (P.S., If you had to think about this, YOU’RE in the running.)

The hidden patterns in the chaos can only be seen through the holes.

J.

Debt and Taxes

No, I never said that CO2 was Larry’s brother-in-law…

No matter what they may try and make you believe otherwise, trust me:

If you’re in debt, you ain’t really rich.

Remember:  Over in the City EVERYthing’s contagious.

One rather tall fellow pronounced, “I’m sorry, but I can’t afford to be stupid…I refuse to go any further into debt.”

If it makes you tense and angry, it ain’t a hobby.

J.

What Does It Mean?

A Real Revolutionist can’t worry about always letting his engine warm-up.

In the City, your safest travel rule should be:

Don’t wander off alone, or with other people.

It would seem that you haven’t fully explored and experienced the possibilities of a thing until, while examining it, you drop and break it.  (Are we talking only about actual objects?)

In the City, they’ll ask you what it means, even if they don’t care.

Only the inferior get mad.

J.

Handwriting Analysis

Regarding the secret movements of the 4-D Revolution, it could be said that, just below the surface, a whole ‘nother surface.

I do believe that one City hocus-pocus-spiritualist is getting deliciously close to taking such matters to their proper extreme.  His new method is, “learning about your REAL self through someone ELSE’s handwriting.”

No matter HOW they may try and frighten you, just remember this:

In the City there IS no “last straw”…(it just goes on, and on and on, and on).

No matter WHAT you may have heard, I can assure you, hell is filled with apologies.

The other night, out near the eastern Bushes, I heard the following murmured, “God, what a relief!”  Even I slept better that night.

J.

A Solitary Race

I heard one ole City feller refer to his eldest son as being as “confused as a veterinarian’s front yard.”

The alleged, “committed, and irreversible” views of those ordinarily in seats of City power, can splatter and ruin your best suit faster than a Peterbilt through a Mississippi mud puddle.

Was talking with this other feller in the City, who sez he’s not “all that concerned” over Man’s possible future, unless it’s determined that AT & T DOES have “the bomb.”

In the City, even when they INSIST they “take requests” – don’t make any.

If you run a solitary race, you don’t have to check your time.

J.

Deny Everything!

If it’s dead,
don’t touch it.

If it’s motionless,
leave it alone.

Remember:  Deny EVERYTHING.

One ole City sorehead sez that the main thing one generation gives to another is, “severe stomach cramps.”

Two winter rules posted in one Revolutionist camp:

Nothing is episodic, and
Nothing is episodic.

Just yesterday, heard about a new king up in the grey-western latitudes, whose very name tells ME he’s destined for City greatness.  His royal tag – “Alfred The Loud.”

J.

An Honorable Victory

One guy said he hoped to use his political connections to better his position in life by being appointed Official State Schlepper.

Any victory that encourages growth is an honorable one.

Ordinary “happiness” ain’t shit.

And a spokesperson for the National Emergency Weather Service warned that even after the present front passes, there would still be “one great danger,” which he referred to as the “one great danger.”

(Never count your chickens.)

J.