Boffo Headlines Make A Comeback

And lo, the cry went out, “Let there be more talk and less entertainment!”  (Thus it was, for example, that Bach was terminated and critics brought on-line.)

 

 

And, “Ahh,” they contentedly sighed, “History bears us out once again.”  As behind their backs, History chuckled as it straightened on its morning coat, awaiting indeed to, “Bear them out,” but not in a manner intended by their words.

 

 

Sang a man, near a willow:  “If home is where the heart is, then my head is in my heart.”

 

 

Then, looking back on it all, the young-Jack-in-Us-All, enthralled: “I should have known that days long gone saw the last of the magical beans.”

 

 

Flash:  Boffo Headlines Make Comeback:

When many mortal performers reach maturity and see where the production’s headed, they’ll make their voice sound real gruff, and say, “Somebody get my agent on the phone – and I mean NOW!”  (Okay gang, the good news is that everyone’s been held over for another week – of course, that’s also bad news.)

 

J.

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Talking About Oneself

One way to spot the intellectually civilized is that to try and learn about themselves, they’ll study anything but.

 

 

Related, El Note-to:
Talking about oneself is not the same as studying oneself.

 

 

Carouselian Comfort:

Look here dear,
Have no fear,

The mind was made
to run in circles.

 

 

A Range Of No Regrets:

Horsey, horsey,
Who’s got the horsey?
I don’t care long as I ain’t the horsey.

 

 

The more sophisticated becomes the king, the more he tries to make your Execution Proclamation sound like a Public Service Announcement – done for your own good!

(Just because you don’t know what you’re doing, doesn’t mean that anyone else does.)

 

J.

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The Mind Latches On

Alright, if you’ll all calm down, and we can get all of the contestants back on stage, we’ll announce the finalists: 
The Second Runner Up is the man who wouldn’t take no for an answer,
The Third Runner Up is the man who wouldn’t take yes for an answer,
And our winner is – the man who wouldn’t take reality as an answer.

 

 

The mind wants something to latch onto,
but are you gonna’ let it latch on to you!?

 

 

“So,” said a man, “Are we to then consider the normal knowledge of the mind to be a little more ‘Socratic irony’!?”

 

 

In a land where “no knowledge” can pass for “quite adequate knowledge,” where will civilization and routine men be found?  (“Is that all, Sir?  May we go home now?”)

 

 

The official city Sculptor and ad hoc Corner-And-Rough-Edge-Chiseler states: “No man with attributes shall ever possess a daughter of mine.”

 

J.

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One Man’s Rhyme

One Man’s Rhyme:

I passed my days
 in a daze, then,
discovered my way
in a maze.

(Simply “being alive” is not pressure and confusion enough.)

 

 

The war is over only when you don’t hear it anymore.

 

 

You can separate things,
You can put ‘em together;
You can make things worse, but,
Not any better.

(Thus is one generation’s verse to the succeeding one.)

 

 

The shit is passed only when you hear it no longer.

 

 

Any idea that a definition can help, is an idea that is beyond help.  There is nothing absolute that you can say about the mind – while there is about consciousness.

 

J.

 

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To Be More Human

We can play with our sex,
We can play with our food,
We can play with our mind,
Will it do any good?

The preceding verse was brought to you by the, You, Me, and Why, Semi-Charitable Trust.
(By unconscious accident, I might add.)

 

 

And Now A Little Quiz For The Kiddies – With Prizes Appropriate Thereto:

“What’s a bigger waste of time than being civilized? – Talking about it!”

(Any of you adults who want to play along may, for the term, “being civilized,” use instead either the words, “art” or “being alive.”)

 

 

No one’s map perfectly matches reality.

 

 

Inside of every solar system is a place where all of their local words are produced; and inside this area are always a few people, sort of genetic side effects of the overall effort.  And a man mused, “Is trying to be more human a form of science fiction, or vice versa?”  Yes, you can call it anything you want to, but that’s still what it is: “Attempting To Be More Human.”

 

 

One man wanted to go to a certain place, but since he couldn’t seem to get there, he just thought about it a lot and that seemed to keep him from worrying about it too much.  Now that, info-lovers, is being human,  not more human.

 

J.

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When All Becomes Metaphor

The human inclination is to tell people about the neat vacation spot you traveled to, but the too-human danger is that you’ll try to show them snap-shots of the place which are not in your possession.

 

 

Regarding A Thinker’s Aesthetics:

It is only the “new” that is the “joy forever.” (A man thought, “If I could locate the center of the storm, perhaps I could stabilize it.”  Perhaps.)

 

 

You do realize that everyone may have it backwards, and it could be that myths invented men!

 

 

How “Travel-Smarts” Operate On The “Not-Quite-Possible-Yet Level”:

A man who already, “has-it-in-him,” can direct himself – in fact, only he can.

 

 

When all becomes metaphor,
even the grandest plans run awry.

 

 

All philosophy is bullshit, and all bullshit, somebody’s philosophy.

 

J.

 

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Theories Were the First Form of Space Travel

How The Singular, Non Physical Side Of Mortals Expands:

“What can you say about man once you’ve said everything that can be said?’
“Something else.”

 

 

After many, and I do mean “many” starts, stops, starts, hesitations, successes, failures, triumphs, then setbacks, one man summed it up in a rhyme:  “Conscious clarity’s, Life’s act of charity.”  And after having thought this for himself, he felt no better for it, nor any worse, either – for such is not the purpose of thinking for yourself.

 

 

And yet, on another planet was a certain man who each day set his watch to buzz at three o’clock to remind him when it was three o’clock.  Ring-g-g:  You can either think for yourself, or you can’t – and without such a background, an expansion of consciousness is foolish to discuss.

 

 

A Bonus Question from next year’s “Dry Waller’s and Appaller’s exam:

A two dimensional mind in a three dimensional world will never reach its full potential!?
The simple are disturbed by indigestion, the more complex by irony and uncertainty. 
Opossums and birch trees laugh in the face of the scientific method. 
Theories were the first form of space travel – minds, the original space.

 

 

Notice: Everybody’s in show business – everybody’s an impersonationist.

 

 

How You Need to Look At Even This “Point-Blank”:

The question is not whether the gamble will ever pay off or not, but rather, whether you’ll ever even find the right place to lay down your bet.  (“Sweetums, as long as you’re in the kitchen, would you go ahead and tell me if that was supposed to be good new or bad?”)

 

J.

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University of the Air

The idea of “arm chair travel,” came about when men discovered it was easier to get an arm chair, than it was to travel.  The mind can be a wonderful pet – as long as you keep it inside, or else make it stay out of doors.

 

 

If there is “one thing wrong with man” – nobody knows what it is!

 

 

You are fully civilized when you want to start playing,  “Hey, look at me! – for what appear to be non-sexual reasons.”

 

 

University of the Air:  Lesson Three In The Course:  “Look Over Here 102”:

One unique aspect of becoming a new being in consciousness, is that you cannot prove to anyone that you have accomplished it, or provide any evidence that it is profitable.  What more can you ask for you tuition dollar!?

 

 

The ordinary like to note that there are no infidels awaiting execution, but look over here, dear, there are no myths in an empty stomach.  Feed a cold, starve a fever; strip my mind – “I’m a believer!”

 

J.

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Ordinary Feelings

A distinctive sign of the depth to which one is civilized is how readily one treats individual aspects of civilization; as though they had a discrete, objective existence of their own.

 

 

Cats always get nervous if they hear birds singing a tune they’re not familiar with.  In a thinker’s world, fowl of a feather should stick together – if there’s a reason for it – and if no one notices.

 

 

Ordinary people
have only ordinary feelings,
about ordinary things –
at least that’s what they say.

 

 

A certain man stopped and thought, “With increasing clarity do I suspect the thrust of my special hunger and the efforts I make.  It is to become plain, calm and point-blank, even amidst the noisy, confused and unfocused conditions of normal mental life.”

 

 

The fundamental laws of reality have little to do with the local, physical laws of the universe, but just enough to dazzle and bamboozle the ole mind-er-roonie.

 

J.

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No Passion in Plagiarism

A mind’s mind sang, “I’m irritated when hungry – pissed when full.”
The correct title of the tune may be:  “We Are What Eats Us.”

 

 

The supreme in a dieter’s dream would be, of course, a food that was totally satisfying, but with no calories or nourishment whatsoever.  But wait – men have already accomplished this in their intellectual ingestion!

 

 

Except for entertainment, why should anyone listen to what anyone has to say!?   If we move from its moons directly to the planet Jupiter, we can then reasonably ask:  Why dogs sniff one another?  Why hands are automatically drawn to pastry counters?  And why cats always include an R.S.V.P. in their communiques with robins?  Some men hide behind fear, some behind bravado, others cover themselves in reputation, while a thinker starts out pulling allegory behind him in an attempt to erase his tracks, then ultimately struggles to strip himself bare, and be privately nude and rude in the woods alone.

 

 

Regarding the “Need-For-Fee; In Your New-Thinking-Deal”:

There is no passion in plagiarism.

 

Another man says that people with dumb names should stay home – also those with stupid ideas.

 

J.

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