Time's Satirist

I am, perhaps, time’s greatest satirist…(especially when I play me self).

I just read this in today's paper: “No man's knowledge can go beyond his experience.”  So they still think that “knowing something” isn’t a personal “experience.”  (And the City still remains the City.)

They have “large print books” for those with weak, failing sight, so why not “large idea” ones for those of weak brain-e-doodles?

In the City, one of the signs of an apparent intellectual is that he uses such terms as, “In my humble opinion,” “I believe I may safely conjecture,” “I submit for your thoughtful consideration,” and so on, but the Revolutionist does not have sufficient time to spend saying such things, much less believing them.  If he operated in this expected fashion, he would not live long enough to ever learn, map, or do ANYthing new.

Once heard an old Citified prune-thinker finally hitch up his drawers, rare back, and declare, “I’ve got it, by god, the will and the intellect are one and the same thing!”  And he seemed so delighted with his ole self, why I just hated to note for him that, “Hell, ole timer, EVERYTHING’S one and the same thing.”

J.

The Best Disguise

The one cry that even the most entrenched, blasé City dweller dreads to hear, “You gotta pay retail.”

An apropos slogan can be, “If it works, use it,” but a subtle zinger lurking there-about is the fact that if a Real Revolutionist “uses it” (whatever it is), it will work.

In the City, the most effective disguise of all is probably to go naked.

While believing himself free of “prying ears,” I heard a certain Revolutionist say to himself, “You know what particularly impresses me about you, that even just between us two, when I leave a provocative and inviting opening, you still decline to talk about yourself.”  (About as tough as a re-fried combat boot and a good bit more sensitive.)

I caught The Man Who Actually Knows How Life Works, talking again to some of his “That’s Entertainment” Church flock, and what he was saying was this: “Could any of you conceive of the possibility of ‘The Secret’ I refer to being, in fact, secret, because it might be ridiculous?  What if almost everyone had thought of ‘The Secret’ at least once in their life, but it was just so ridiculous that they forthwith forgot it?  Could you imagine such a ridiculous thing?  Can any of you conceive of such a ridiculous, albeit entertaining, possibility?”

J.

Watching and Listening

Anything that can be named can be found to have a verbal superior; thus the People keep re-defining and re-inventing their gods.

The People will watch or listen to almost ANYTHING rather than having nothing to do.

As opposed to good, solid ordinary info, Revolutionary data is somehow kinda wistful, even windblown.

Although Life makes men hope, believe, even expect otherwise, the Revolutionist knows that the People are going to be feeling just about how they feel now.

Perhaps the most shameful, even fatal, mistake is to believe that in any matter, any word, is the final word.

J.

The Irrelevant

To have a really good act requires simply that you have one truly “great number.”  My act IS my life; my act is my act.  And the ordinary would ask, “But what do we do for an encore?” And the Revolutionist replies, “I AM my own encore.”

Don’t forget, whilst temporarily languishing in the City:

If it took three men to play the bassoon we would not need oars.

Is it some kind of presently unrealized cosmic law that only pitifully serious men can write on serious matters?

History eventually teaches everybody a thing or two, (especially the dead).

The Revolutionist sez, “If it ain’t irrelevant it’s of no interest to me.”

J.

To Boldly Go...

One of the most difficult things for recruits to remember is that you can never triumph, much less get slashed and stronger in wisdom, if you do not engage in combat.  You can plan, dream, and thrash about in the bushes until the bartenders come home, but you will remain undecorated, and will never see any new sights, gain any new ground, or acquire meaningful scars.

Riches without power, is at best only a third of real wealth.

Proverb Updates:

Original Version, “When Nature made him, she broke the mold.”

Improved Rendition, “When Nature made him, she broke the bounds of good taste.”

Why, why, and then some more, “why,” I ask you, has reason always been declared the enemy of faith; intelligence, the foe of feeling?  Why does the son so mistrust his father?

The Revolutionist knows that as far as the People are concerned, if nothing else, it can at least truly be said, “They will boldly go where everyone else has gone before.”

J.

To Bark or To Bite?

In the course of a single, 24-human-hour-period, I heard all of the following:

“Rivers are ceaseless,” “The sky is infinite,” “God is merciful,” and “Men die in the morning, and are born at night.”  I had to lay down and take a nap.

Should the Recruits be told to look upon their inner struggle with themselves as an “invasion,” a hostile, aggressive attack, or as a “liberation,” the helpful act of one friend to another?

When it comes to the actual protection of one’s temporary, revolutionary abode, is it more efficient to “tell” people to “stay away” (barking), or to literally “keep them away” (biting)?  (Much avoidable weariness arises from one’s apparent inability to make, and move on, this decision.)

Two thousand years ago I heard it said that, “Rarely does valor and wit reside in one man.”  Then a thousand years later ‘twas noted that, “You will not find honor and piety in the same soul.”  And after that I heard such notions as, “Never do beauty and intelligence dwell together,” and “Seldom can you discover within one person both virtue and courage.”  Now what I want to know is this:  With you humans, just what in hell DOES go together?

The Comparison of Views Regarding the Same Area From Differing Sources: 

“I believe that in the end the truth will endure,” taken from A Short History of the English People, versus, “I believe that in the end the tall will prevail,” from A History Of The Short English People.

J.

Action and Thinking-of-Action

Finite brains cannot deal in matters infinite.  Corollary:  All questions have answers, even the apparently impossible ones such as, “Is Man eternal?”  “Will truth prevail?”  Such questions have answers, and the answer is, “YOU’LL NEVER KNOW.”

Ah, that rarest, most obscure of mystical texts, “I was Moses’ Next Neighbor, and a lotta good it did me,” followed closely in importance by, “Muhammad Married my Sister and almost ruined her credit.”

Real Revolutionary data does not absolutely condemn being-in-a-fight, but it would blame he who was the apparent 3-D-cause of the fight.

Why is it, do you suppose, that only men and women ultimately disposed to “find God” write autobiographies? (You should not leave such ideas as this with just a chuckle-or-smirk; the fact that it seems “funny” is telling in itself.)

All Real Revolutions stay in danger of being so informal as to drive away all but the most determined.

What could be more obscure than a person who actually “knew something?”

J.

Finite Brains vs. Matters Infinite

Finite brains cannot deal in matters infinite.  Corollary:  All questions have answers, even the apparently impossible ones such as, “Is Man eternal?”  “Will truth prevail?”  Such questions have answers, and the answer is, “YOU’LL NEVER KNOW.”

Ah, that rarest, most obscure of mystical texts, “I was Moses’ Next Neighbor, and a lotta good it did me,” followed closely in importance by, “Muhammad Married my Sister and almost ruined her credit.”

Real Revolutionary data does not absolutely condemn being-in-a-fight, but it would blame he who was the apparent 3-D-cause of the fight.

Why is it, do you suppose, that only men and women ultimately disposed to “find God” write autobiographies? (You should not leave such ideas as this with just a chuckle-or-smirk; the fact that it seems “funny” is telling in itself.)

All Real Revolutions stay in danger of being so informal as to drive away all but the most determined.

What could be more obscure than a person who actually “knew something?”

J.

Knowing When-to-Stop

In the City, everyone wants to be a “big shot,” except those who just want to be left alone, (and that’s asking a lot of the City).

No one can correctly say, “What difference does it make anyway?” except those who KNOW what difference it makes.

Anyone worth quoting is worth shellacking, (to an illustrious career, a proper finish).

In these strange “matters revolutionaire,” as important as knowing how-to-start is knowing when-to-stop (or at least, pause).

Whilst perusing some written materials in the City recently, I encountered these words, “From time to time, great spiritual leaders and thinkers appear on the human scene, all with the same EXCEPTIONAL insight, that man-is-not-as-he-should-be.”  You know, if they are right, my potential audience may be even smaller than Billy Graham’s record collection.

J.

Foward and Backward

In the describable 3-D-world, the so-called “opposite” of something can always be seen and used as though it were the same as the latter.  All real revolutionary data is correct both forward and backward.

And one controllably sunny day, a Revolutionist cried out with an uncontrollable vibrato, “Let us no longer have ANY secrets!” and the People rushed inside and locked their doors.

All of the ordinary “great thinkers” unfailingly believe that Man’s consciousness gives him a distorted picture of reality, thus explaining his nefarious behavior.  But ordinary eyes see the ordinary only as it is…forget “distortion,” it’s forgotten you.

One of the universe’s “safe bets” is that, when confronted with new data, the People will either yawn or throw rocks.  I believe a reminder is herein in-order, being that in the City, they’ve heard it all before, and I DO mean “it all,” (and in case they haven’t, they don’t want to).

The Real Revolutionist says, “I don’t DO re-writes.”

J.

Laughing-Stock

No matter what behavior you might change, you should never claim to be, or admit to be, a “reformed” this-or-that.  This is for quite sound economic reasons inasmuch as a person “reformed” can never completely relax, or totally chill out, but is always expending energy hopping from one foot to the other.

Everyone should give their life a name, like you would your dog or cat.  Not give a name to Life itself, but to your own little personal one, so that when you so wish, you may speak to it by name.

Everybody’s the laughing-stock of somebody, it’s just that everybody’s somebody, and nobody knows it.

No one can truly, properly appraise themselves, nor should they even try, except of course for men and women who live in the Cities, and who eat, talk and breathe.  (Leave it to the Revolutionists to do other-dother-wise.)

Life in the City would be described as a kind of “oenophilists” lament:

“Rothchild in, urine out.”

J.

Unholy Minion Day

There’s only one possession worthy of working up a sweat over.

The Revolutionist, knowing the number of areas which the People are bound to protect, can keep them properly distracted and off balance by periodically threatening to attack the past.

All famous people should be shot, axed, or stretched to the breaking point.

In one City I observed an unusual celebration called “Unholy Minion Day” wherein each person held a mirror up to their face while bowing deeply to the person next to them, and greasily pronouncing, “I presume you, too, are human and may yet err…thank you, thank you so much, thank you so much…”

One busy day I announced that, “after you die, everyone’s the same,” but then thought, “So what!  It’s already that way most places.”

Anyone who would learn from their mistakes is a bloody coward.

J.

The Ultimate in Sophistry

While no human, on the 3-D level, can foresee or consider every possible occurrence or combination of forces, the Revolutionist should still never be caught in a situation from which prior thought would have saved him.

The ultimate in sophistry is in believing and teaching that there is an alternative.

The Revolutionist knows that uprisings can be nurtured, and fresh ground won, not just when there is a specific grievance on which to base a skirmish, but also at times when there is just a general condition of dissatisfaction.

You should distinguish between two areas of Art: the non-verbal, Blue Circuitry of “How I feel,” and the literary, Yellow Brained of “How I think because of how I feel,” (which to many, seems like, “How I think about how I feel”).  But let me prod you further:  Do you actually “feel” about your thoughts, or just think you do?

Question:  For the Revolutionist, out-in-the-Bushes, in what areas does originality and the ability to improvise count most?  Answer:  EVERYWHERE.

J.

The Commons

All surprises arise from a lack of “time consciousness”…also, all disappointments. Oh yes, fears as well.

In my equation, “I” is always interacting with “Not-I.”

You should really try and find the answer to this one:

Is it worse to be merely ignorant, or to be ignorant of your ignorance? Of course, if you are exhilaratingly dumb, how would you ever know you had found the answer?

In the land of 3-D-consciousness things can only deliver limited info about themselves.

(Do any of you per chance, now consider yourselves “things”?)

Common things happen to common people…over, and over, and over…

J.

Extreme Measures Measure

You must learn to attack train your emotions, not neuter them.

The closer I skate to the “secret,” the more it is that I should refer to my comments not as maps, but as sketches; abstract verbal paintings.

I note that one of the City definitions of knowledge is the “conformity of the object to the intellect,” which sounds expansive enough for most purposes, but I should warn you that it is much too dainty and delicate to be of any revolutionary use.

For the Real Revolutionist, extreme measures measure, and offer extreme rewards.

The Revolution must be truly cost efficient or it is doomed.

J.

They're Playing Everybody's Song

In the wondrous place known as “the City,” people are permitted to “flesh out” their own lean minds with the fat from the thoughts of others.

Moderation is the illusionary pollutant in the stream of foresight, or, put another way: Restraint is the moderator of a game show with no prizes.

In the City, they play everyone’s song.

And just before the mighty battle had begun, from the rear ranks a voice was heard to exclaim, “Ready when you are, my Liege; my tongue is loaded and primed for action!”

Just think, if you’d never been born how much you wouldn’t have missed.

J.

Bring In Some E

C and D, come and go, but E is forever.

I once heard a fellow say that, “History wouldn’t be all that impressive if it hadn’t happened so long ago.”

In the City, it’s almost impossible to be completely naked.

“Yeah,” said the guy, “I know what you’re trying to do, and it won’t work…unless of course, it already has and I just didn’t notice it.”

Anything that seems to last beyond its initial flash is meaningless.

J.

Cerebral Lifts

In the City, it seems that when Men hurt they either curse, or compose poetry. 

What a place…I just can’t get over it…

Sin does exist, but only for those who believe in it.

What a place, what a place.

If Men truly “learned from their mistakes” they wouldn’t die, period!

The best thing any of you can do for your health is just to get out of the City.

On a recent sojourn to the City I saw this ad that promised, “Cerebral Lifts:  Makes you almost 2 inches smarter.”

J.

Habits and Hormones

If “habit” is not the answer, “hormones” is.

Common sense, reason, and proper judgment all reside in the City, with the People. It is out-in-the-Bushes that new data, insanity and madness thrive.

The People’s Credo (for Sunday):

Approve the lofty,
follow the base,
and insist on strict prohibitions
for all areas but yours.

In affairs cosmopolitan, it could be said that one of the giant steps in physics was in seeing that “matter itself evolves,” continually building up into increasingly complex structures, one atom at a time.  Man can just barely begin to hear the reality of this as regards his own consciousness.

The greatest hindrance to becoming a Real Revolutionist is in just being common.

J.

Which Half is Which?

If you think it’s hard “pleasing” everybody, just try INFORMING them…whew…

Another potential off-the-bush-revolutionist-motto:

In every worthy affair consider the effort required, the time involved, and the apparent rewards, then proceed anyway.

If the Ruling Powers actually had any “defensive intelligence,” they would have long ago produced an aging/death antidote and developed an anti-tornado bomb.

Back in the City, I once heard this option pondered and proposed: 

“Is it better to know nothing of a matter than to know only half?” 
And a fellow fessed-up, “Half of everything I know is correct, and half incorrect.  Unfortunately, I don’t know which half is which.” 
(I like these instances when I don’t have to make up a punch line.)

Sailors tell tales of the sea; shepherds, of their flock.  What do you suppose gods would “chat” about?  (I guess one possibility would be them pondering why Men spend so much time wondering what gods would spend their time doing.)

J.