The reason that the ordinary are forced to think about all the meaningless things they do
is so that the future will have a chance.
During the process of checking out several mystical schools, to see which one he might like to join, a man asked the head of one (with which he’d found some favor), “Are you sure you don’t have just a small cancer?”
A man wrote the Glaring Doctor and asked:
“Can’t the mystical itself fall into the trap of excessive ‘self-reference’?”
But the doctor found this far too self-evident to bother responding to.
(Well…either that, or he just couldn’t come up with a response.)
One man said, “Thank God it’s Friday.”
To which his brother countered, “Nay, premature, merely preparatory; you really mean Saturday.”
And a second brother demurred, “No, you did not go far enough, it should be Sunday, a time of respite and repose.”
Then their father stepped in and said, “You all missed it — your attention should be on Monday, the beginning of it all over again.”
You don’t live on the “cutting edge” unless you think on the cutting edge.
And someone asks, “What would be ‘thinking-on-the-cutting-edge’?”
(Any thinking done beyond your present range.)
When one man learned what had happened to him, he wrote and said:
“I’m just sick about it!”
Then there was this other guy who sent himself a get-well card…in care of life.
Life didn’t think it was funny.
One man got all his ideas from somewhere else — one man is all men;
One man got all his ideas from somewhere else — all ideas are from somewhere else;
One man got all his ideas from somewhere else — you’re surrounded by “somewhere else.”