The Danger of Anger

One man says his hobby is, “A relentless, looking-at, pestering, and non-verbal questioning-and-investigation of the mind.”  (A hobby that is not aimed at the future is not much of a hobby.)

When it comes to an uncompromising scrutiny of what a man knows, it will say to him, “Leave me out of this!”

A man writes:

“So okay, I’ve listened to you and can kinda agree that sometimes life ain’t too bad – but I still think people suck!”  (‘Fraid he doesn’t quite have it.)

All thought and all talk is but finally the mind’s attempt to understand itself.

The true danger of anger is that it is so serious!

J.

Ordinariness

Cliches:  The attempt to establish a temporary verbal tribe.

One man compiled a long list of clichés – and then, began to live them.

A guy who’d thought a lot, one day thought, “Jeeze, it seems like I’ve lived forever.”

Describe “futility” in surround-sound, living-color, and with a capital “F”:  the taking of myths as factual, historical adventures, and of allegorical narratives as descriptions of actual places to “go.”

Anything done by the ordinary |
is proof of their ordinariness.

J.

The Undescribed Job

All things are simple and separate, except that they reside in a complex, correlated reality.

Trying to find something worthwhile to do with the mind is the undescribed job everyone is born into.

The frontiers of an individual’s consciousness are normally whatever the boundaries of the collective’s are.  A man in hunger for a desperate hobby heard that, nodded, but then declared, “Screw the speed limits, driver – full throttle ahead!”

Truth is life will let you get by with a lot – as long as there’s just one of you. 
Say, is there just one of you? – There is of a conscious man.

Whenever this one man wanted to be more conscious – then thoughtful, he’d glance in the general direction of his head and softly croon, “Oh Vanessa, don’t you hear me calling you.”

J.

Out of My Way!

A Pundit:  A dwarf with a real loud voice.

Proverbial Wisdom Update:

Notes an observer: “God must especially love the ‘common man,’ because he made him so stupid.”

Remember, all of you drivers in the Poll Position, that “stupidity” is just a form of measurement supplied to you by local conditions for your – yes, your convenience in criticizing others.  Now, dammit, start your engines (if you’ve got one).

Sincerity by the ordinary is proof of their pretension.

In his striving for something extraordinary, one man said to his mind, “Out of my way!” to which it replied, “But I am the way.”

J.

Without the Filter of Words

Absent some exceptional preparation, all who experience an increase in consciousness take it, the first time around, to be some sort of religious reunion with god.  You might note that you normally never hear of any other description – this being because few ever taste it for a second time.

A man opines, “It seems to me that if a man is a mystic he shouldn’t say he is.”

The Collective Theme Song of Man
(as secretly composed by life):

Average is normal,
Normal is average,
Be weird on your own time!

“For Thousands of Years” Lesson And Quiz:

For thousands of years men have been saying that, “You are what you think” – and no one still understands what it means.

To see without the filter of words is to be finally conscious beyond the mere world of the mind.

J.

Notes Re The Mind

Conversation ‘Twixt a Father and a Son:

“A man with a ‘chip-on-his-shoulder’ can be misunderstood.”
“You mean as in, ‘mistaking-the-tumor-for-the-man’?”

Additional Dialogue:

“Hair styles come and go, but what can be said positively about fashion criticism in general?”

How about: “Someone tell those girls doing the evening wear collection that I said to get out on the runway this very instant!”  (Being extremely human makes it extremely easy to take metaphor for the material, and allegory for an off-the-shoulder-gown – clown.)

Even More Benefits Noted and Quoted:

A man who writes his own material can be his own critic, and can then tell himself to “go to hell,” without having to write a letter or make a call.

More Notes Regarding the Mind:

All thought is confusing, in that,
it never actually “goes” anywhere.

Seriousness by the ordinary is proof of their stupidity.

J.

Shade Tree Mechanic

Until you truly realize that Life itself is alive, nothing makes much sense – especially man.

Two men were talking and the first one said:

“Sometimes I think you know more than you tell me about.” 
And the second replied, “It’s possible.”
And the first one said, “Then why don’t you share it with me?”
And the second one asked, “Are you positive it would do you any good?”
And the first one replied, “No, but it wouldn’t cost you anything to try.”

At which point the second man responded, “If I had a very special food that nourished me as did no other, and was in limited supply, and you did not know it would truly benefit you or not, would you ask me for some?”

Life contacted me to say that it particularly enjoyed the item, the other evening, concerning the man who began referring to himself as, “Hey, You Cheap Whore,” since he said that’s what life would end up calling him anyway.  Life said it, “enjoyed it” – nothing else.

Words cannot ultimately “explain themselves,” which, strange as it may sound, is their singular strength.

Another Driving Tip from the “Shade Tree Mechanic of the Mind”:

It is those who believe they can “do better” who can’t.

J.

Professional Mind Wrestling

Yes it’s true!  The World of Professional Mind Wresting is rigged – for I can tell you in advance, that ultimately, this reality’s Tag Team Championship will be held by the duo of “Either-Or.”

The Story of One Man:

So long as he lived at home,
he wasn’t seeing rats,
he was seeing roaches.

A viewer says:

“I enjoy your allegories and parables more when you take the time to explain them and make them plain.  In fact, that’s the only time I enjoy them.  What gives with me you reckon?”

(I reckon you’re average and about par-for-the-course.)

A man with his “pecker-in-his-pocket,” has your survival in his hands, and your future in his pants.  Life is such a man.

The split’s sort of like this:  there is the mental, verbal consciousness, then the silent, unfiltered variety.

J.

Wave When You Go By

As everyone headed for the Garden gate, Coach Life said to them, “Don’t bother to ‘suit-up’ if you’re not going to play – but, hey, everybody’s going to play!”

The News of The Day – Every Day:

Men with something stupid to say will say something stupid.

Philosophy of the Day – Wave When You Go By:

Carousels do not inquire into the I.Q. of the fuel that powers them.

Notice:  (The following is not a joke – unless, “blah-blah, blah-blah”):

A man rushed into a psychiatrist’s office and said, “You’ve got to help me – I’m a three-toed sloth!”  And the doctor replied, “You’re not a sloth.”  And the man screamed, “Then it’s worse than I thought – I’m not even myself!”

Note: You may now return to your “rational” channel.

J.

The Early Warning System

Reports From the Wide World of Bumper Stickers:

“Minds Don’t Make Men Upset – Something Else Does!”

(And your Department of “We’re Glad We Could Clear That Up For You,” thanks you for your kind attention.)

Off The Record Query:

Just what sort of opponent is it anyway, that would make available to you ordinances that could prove its own downfall?  “Can you spell, ‘Life’ little buddy!?”

Those who taste and understand the reality of religion, tend not to be.  (The latest line gives the odds of ordinary people comprehending This at a thousand-to-one.)

A Definition from City Level:

The Mind:  Man’s “early warning system” in the face of there being no threat.

One chap’s present declaration, “I don’t care how old it may be – a cliché is still a cliché!”

J.

The Something-Else-Mind

One man, who tried to think, was asked, “What do you think about…?”  And he replied, “Life.”  And was then asked, “And what do you think about Life?”  And he replied, “That it’s alive.”

As regards the matter of there being a consciousness, possible, that is other than just intellectual activity; we could say that there is the “mind-mind” and then the “something-else-mind.”

How Things Are, and How Certain Things Are, in Such A Way That The Ordinary Never See How They Are: 

Myths are maps,
but myths and maps won’t a
take you anywhere.

Myths aren’t practical,
but if they’re not practical,
they’re not myths.

Whenever he had something of general importance to say to his overall mental awareness, this one man would oftimes begin by saying, “Good evening, Ladies and Gentleman, Boys and Girls, Tumors and Goiters…”

War News from The Intellectual Front:

A man who’s angry is wounded, and one who’s mad about being angry is damn-near dog food.

J.

A Simple Sentence

An ever enlarging mind seems to be “going somewhere” – but are you going to back a fat man in a foot race?

Seekers of The Truth:

Those who didn’t live long enough to complete their work.

One Intellectual Salvation Presented in the Form of Seventeen Words:

Life itself has no agenda such as would be recognized by even the best of human minds.

A simple sentence is a happy sentence, since it will always find a home.  (Understanding it, however, is another matter altogether.)

And now, for a brief item concerning man:  those who talk have a lot to hide.

J.

How to Tell if You're Civilized

How To Tell If You’re Civilized Without Having To Travel To The State Capital:

You are indeed civilized if you take symbolism for substance, and allegory for the absolute. (And, oh yes, if per chance you’d be interested in the possibility of becoming “super-civilized” – no, let us better call it, “Trans-civilized” or even “neo so.”  At any rate, if you’re interest in something beyond the routine, though perfectly normal and acceptable state, then you must personally recognize the all-invasive and persuasive nature of the mind’s myths, symbols and allegories, and be able to look directly into the sun:  the creative, local light that’s the origins of all mental shadows.)

Light is non critical, and thus remains at a distance from man’s ordinary thinking.

All of the world’s great thinkers lived only once – and disappeared as soon as possible.

There are two ways to be conscious:  In the collective manner, (which is everyone’s ordinary consciousness), and another way. 

Oh, okay, ole Misty Softy gives in again; there are two ways to be conscious:  In the collective manner, (which is everyone’s ordinary consciousness), and in another way – which is personal and private.  Now, remember me in your will.

J.

The Original Recycler

A chap over near you stopped and thought, “How come it’s possible to spell the word ‘blessing’ using only the letters ‘c-u-r-s-e-d’?!”
(Shoulr we respond to that or not?)

If you explain why you retired,
you haven’t yet actually retired.

And counters one man: “Attempting to control the mind is like trying to get the stomach to go without food.”  (Should we respond to this or not?)

Life:

The original recycler.

A man who can invent his own history may, in fact, have a future.

J.

The Mind, The Mind, Oh, The Mind!

The understanding, the foresight and the expectations of man’s collective intelligence are like a figure always right behind you, ready at any moment to tap you on the shoulder and say, “I’m sorry, but you can’t go in there dressed like that.”  (Do you think he meant bars, restaurants and other business establishments, or a certain area of the human intellect?)

“At least,” reflected a man with no other noticeable “bad habits,”  “Having a mind gives you something to always work on!”

More Tales from The Literary Seas:

Being able to quote keeps many afloat.

Originality:

Imaginary monsters dreamed of by sailors kept below decks too long.

The Mind, The Mind – Oh, The Mind:

When there is nothing else left to think about, the mind will think of something else.

J.

"Incorrect" is Incorrect

Pondered one man to himself, “Is it harder to be civilized when you are frightened?”  And perhaps someplace else, another man thought, “Ah, so that in part be the purpose of law and custom, and of the collective’s turning of allegories into ritualistic amulets.”

If pure information is truly “the” product desired, then why cannot it not be presented, in an impassionate, dull, and dead-pan manner!?

Only city intellectuals of a still-simplistic bent, believe knowledge to be a discrete, stand-alone entity.

The universe itself is not large enough for a real mind!  Okay, truth, the size of the universe would be just about right for a first-class mind – I mean, consciousness.

Query:  Why would not a man with the opportunity to do so, correct and edit himself?

One Possible Lunar Answer:  Because if he was conscious and knew what he was saying in the first place, the whole idea of being “incorrect” is an incorrect one.

J.

Crude or Candid?

The crude often like to be thought of as “candid,” but so too do some alligators want to be taken as fashionable leather accessories.

The inspiring credo of one swampy school was:

“The Human Mind Is A Terrible Thing To Wear Around Your Waist,
Or Carry In Your Back Pocket.”

Upon reaching, again, the familiar end of his daily rope of exasperation, a man exclaimed to his all-too-routine consciousness, “And to think of the many years I have called you my friend.”  To which, in candor it replied, “Then to reflect on the many years you’ve been your own fool.”

One of life’s more impressive, “psychological displays and gambits,” is in having one man tell what kind of man some other is, when the first man doesn’t know what kind of man he is…or is that one of life’s richer jokes!?

As the king lay dyin’ and bitchin’, his former Mental Advisor showed up drunk, came up to the bed, grabbed his Grace by the jammie lapels and said, “Hey, dig it, life doesn’t give any refunds – cause you didn’t pay to get in to begin with!”

J.

The One Fear

An uncommon thinker thought, “The purity of the situation becomes even more obvious as I realize that if man did not continually bleed, he would not increase in strength.”

There is only one fear significant to post –survival consciousness – and it is not the “fear of failure,” but the fear that one might, or could ever, abandon the effort.

Man is this solar system’s sole creature who needs a mind to help lead him from his internal wilderness, from his captivity.  (As to which of his operations has caused him to believe he is in such a condition – we won’t go into at this time.)

Tip Number Twelve:  How To Be A Mystic At Home – Alone:

Rub yourself in butter, wrap a towel around you head, and bake at 400 degrees until done.

Truisms Tuned Up and Rehabilitated:

Those who can’t cough up history are doomed to repeat it.

(“Daddy is this anywhere close to what men think they mean about karma?”
“Why, son, what a perfectly ridiculous question!”
“Oh, thank you Daddy dear.”)

J.

Questions! Questions!

One day a man said to that private hunger within him, “For thirty years the search has been of much joy, but now I ask you, when will I succeed and reach the destination?!?!”

Questions!  Questions!
Questions!  Questions!
Questions!  Questions!
Questions!  Questions!

(To speak of certain desires is to soil and wrench them.)

A man with no mind,
Has no sense of time;
And a state beyond that,
Has similar conditions…
similar, but not quite.

(“Yes, Marty, I’d give it an ’80, cause you sure can dance to it, and you sure as hell don’t wanna think about it!”)

How Life Has Stacked Your Deck and Dealt Your Hand, If You’re Human:

If we “are what we are” physically, then mentally we “are that which believes it should be otherwise.”

“It is becoming inescapably clearer,” reflected one man, “that if locomotives did not believe that they could fly – they couldn’t.”

J.

The Myth They Never Tell

From near the rear, someone shouted,” We’re all bozos on this bus!”  And a chap even further sideways chuckled softly to himself as he thought, “Ha, the joke’s on them – little do they know that I am the bus.”

The Myth They Never Tell:

We all end up back where we began,
and I ain’t referring to death!

Those with no spark of originality, oftimes, sure hate to see it in others.

Remember, all of you marching in today’s creative parade, on the count of “two” – nothing happens. 

On his “best days, it took at least three men to hold John Phillip Sousa down.

“Daddy, are we a lot like, ‘three men’?”  “Not enough son, not near enough.”

J.