Jan Cox

The room was becoming stifling – the whole house was starting to wheeze.  “Why do you think I talk to you all of the time like this?   You don’t know why I do!  You think you know, but you don’t.  You keep ignoring the fact, that these conversations take place inside one man’s brain, and that there are not two of us in there – there is just me, whatever me it is, speaking at every instant.   But in my awareness of my own voice, I become you, (that is):  I become the sensation of there being a you in here – hearing me speak.  



It all combines to create the normally un-analyzable feeling of there being, in this man’s non-physical innards, a thing of much complexity; a self-thing with great depth, history and experience, and it is but a movie being flashed on his frontal lobes.  ‘Hey, look at me!  I am a frame in a film.’  The images being seen on the cortical screen are comprehensible, and lifelike, but any adult understands that there is actually nothing there.  It is light being projected through an endless thought-film; there is not actually anybody in here in the man’s brain, and yet every man’s brain believes that there is.”

The entire structure fell into a cold sweat as father-soliloquer  wrapped his cape about him; fell to one ka-nee, and screamed, “Good God!  Can you imagine how much more fun we’re having than rhinoceroses!”

…One guy sez: “Just about the time I think I’m finally about to get-it, the barn flees the horse!”

…One kid, (not the same one as above), said to his pa:  “Sometimes after one of your talks to me, I have the suspicion that somewhere in it you actually told me the
secret and I just didn’t catch it.”


J.

The fire department called but didn’t get an answer; the line was too busy between progenitor and spring off.  “Many people who check into this hotel soon say they are driven out by the ever increasing noise they hear upstairs, but the place has no upstairs – they brought their own with them.  Plus the noise up there is not increasing; they’re just noticing it more.”

The moon in the pond started its thousand reflections, even though the Japanese lilies were made in Tijuana.  “Men mistake movies in their head for marchers in the street.  No, correct that, men do not – thoughts in men do, and then the thoughts relay their sighting of the film to men, but without noting to them that it is mere tomfoolery.  What with men’s minds being the original Tom in tomfoolery, they never catch on to this for themselves.”

Then the sprinklers threatened to go off, but lacked cab fare.  “Man is as physically complex as the next animal, but the thoughts that pass through his manger create a sensation in him, of him having a non-physical complexity that does not exist.  It is a plain fact that is all but un-seeable by the organization responsible for sending out the wise guys.  The way to drag this into the stable, and kick around your snooze, is by following this star sentence to its end: ‘We do not have memories; we do not have memories.’  In the neural inn eternally, the only occupant is whoever at the moment dreams he is there; and they all sleep in one-bed-at-a-time – but they all dream of all the previous occupants.  It is fact, you do not have memories, and running this to its conclusion will lead you to what you want as fast as anything else you can do.”

Several pictures on the wall turned themselves around.  “Men believe that some thoughts are more important than others; that thinking about god, truth or beauty is more significant than thinking about movies, music or sports.  This is why those who can think deny that ordinary men do.  All thoughts are fire flies flirting one to another, triggering one another to light in the main.  They are all the same.  



Only a child believes into adulthood that words have intrinsic differences, that some words are sacred and some profane, that certain words are unquestionably of more importance than others.  Those who sleep into a day, dream of insects biting, debating, fleeing, refuting – all but imaginary ants burrowing in the brain.   All words are nothing but sounds; human whinnies and moos, and all of perfectly equal significance.  All thoughts are nothing; words and thoughts are just lightning strikes to the brain.  They are a never ending, three second phenomena, one indistinguishable from another, with only those landscapes still in the dark pretending this is not so.”

J.

A Father said to a Son:
“If you want to believe it, then everything I have ever said to you about This Kinda Thing is true, and if you do not want to believe it, then it is all untrue.  This is why some people so want to believe in a Secret Knowledge that is unconditionally true for everyone, but there is no such thing.  Well, there is one thing, but it does no good to talk about it since it is the absolute, very last thing anyone would ever think of – if they were trying to think of it.”

They looked at one another; then at the ceiling, then at the walls, then at the floor, back at one another and then the old man went further.  “I could tell you sixty different ways to keep yourself from sleeping.  They’re all simple to do – but you gotta stay on top of them every second and that’s the hard part.”

He made the kid take a deep breath – then appeared to continue.  “Even as frustrating as it may be/seem/prove – for those who want to wake up, trying-to-wake-up is the only thing that keeps them from going crazy.  For someone who has no interest in waking-up, trying to would drive them crazy, and if we lived in a better universe, the full Monty contemplation of that fact alone would be sufficient to drive Morpheus from your lawn forever.  Before you start that breathing crap again, catch this corollary:   don’t sit when you can stand; don’t stand when you can pace, and don’t pace when you can lie down.”

The dog left the room blousing as the old man glared at the thermostat.  “Hardly anyone is really civilized – they just pretend to be – which is all that is required.  What else does that remind you of?”  Then the cat followed suit, missing hearing the elder say:  “An awakened man remembers everything that everyone else has forgotten, and has forgotten everything that everyone else knows.”

J.

It is simple:
When you are home – you are home,
and when you are not – you are not,
but thought’s permanent presence as your vociferous house guest
makes the fact most difficult to keep in mind.

“Everything but the life physically lived is a mind sport.”
“Religion?”
“Everything.”
“Politics?”
“Everything.”
“Art?”
“Everything.”
“Psychology?”
“Everything.”
“Love?”
“Everything,”
“Respect?”
“Everything.”
“History?”
“Everything.”
“Good deeds?”
“Everything.”
“Fame?”
“Everything – everything including this conversation.”

 
When young and hormones hot, in thought do men
invent for themselves a purpose to their life.
When old, spite takes over.

Not understanding what is going on, is mistaking film for something with mass.  

J. 
 

This near absolute reign which thought has over itself is so disorienting that it is like having a relative who you know is a crook and not to be trusted, but when he visits, his personality is so powerful that he totally overwhelms you, and at the time makes you completely forget his fraudulent nature.

From one view, those who, by their nature think less, are less asleep. 
(That is):  they more readily do just one thing at a time.

Thought having no native comprehension of itself, constructs fantasies and fables, peopled with gods and goblins to represent itself and the incorporeal life it leads.  In an attempt to understand itself, and there being no ready counteraction to this, thought has now forgotten tha it is all self-created fiction and its original purpose.  This is an arrangement that suits well the civilizing of collective man, but whose lack of realization gives a few the sensation that they are missing something, and that their facilities for mental perception are not being fully utilized.
 
 

The persistent minority assertion, that mankind collectively lives in a state not entirely consistent with reality, is not without cause, but it lacks accuracy.  Men do not live in a distorted version of reality – they think in one.  Again, it is a situation salubrious to man’s mental ability to plan and execute alterations of the physical world to his improved accommodation, but antipodal to this mental facility getting a non-distorted view of itself.


Thought, by nature, looks through funny-glasses, so as to see not simply what is, but what could be.  This natural characteristic plays havoc in the heads of a few.

J.

Everybody drives a noisy car;
everybody is driven around in in a noisy car.

The one crucial thing for the full-realization, and also the one thing which is almost impossible for thought to grasp is this: nothing matters or means anything, except what you physically do or physically happens to you.

Men make themselves out to be both more complicated and more simplistic than they actually are.

Nothing that you ever think means anything – it is only what you do and what happens to you. What you think can sometimes lead to you doing something, or to something happening to you, but most – most – most of the time it does not.  99.97% of everything you will ever think will amount to nothing, and will lead to nothing happening, but getting thought itself to face this approaches the impossible.

Machinery does not commit hara-kiri, only samurai shadows.

J.

A man who cares what others think of him, has not discovered how to fully utilize his own machinery to think.

If you can talk about it,
it is already a metaphor.

You either have The Interest or you don’t, and if you don’t, nothing will give it to you, and if you do– you can’t get rid of it.  The best you can do is either see it through, or pretend you’ve stopped trying.

Man would know no eloquence had he to speak only of what he understands, for those who do understand are always silent.


And the week’s concluding fact:
One man worked it down to where he had no feelings one way or the other about anyone in the whole world but himself.   (A man with major potential.)

J.

Being asleep/unenlightened is being unable to say-what-you-mean…which works out just about right since if you are asleep, you have nothing worth hearing about anyway.  O-kay!

Only a man who doesn’t know what he
is, is anywhere close to actually knowing what he is.

A man who was thought to know-what-is-going-on was told:
“Are you aware that many people are quite impressed by you?
“They do not know me like I do.”

It is not possible to admire a man who wants to be admired,
as much as he wants to be admired.


An ordinary man writing down his innermost, private thoughts, is pissing into steam.



J.

“Rest for the weary”:  An exculpatory term coined by those who finally gave up trying to wake up.

The start of the journey is sweet; the middle, frustrating.
(The middle proves to be the end for most people.) 
 

Interest equals: capacity-to-participate…except in thinking.

Wanting to know The Fact is the supreme, and perhaps only true example of something which you will never have, unless you really want it – damn near in fact, be dying for.

Speaking incessantly and exclusively of thought as the driving force behind the lives men live is ultimately misdirecting, but what other to say?  “Heart and spirit” have been so long mishandled and manhandled as to be almost beyond any practical usage.   And yet, that which drives man’s mind is the same thing that moves the rest of him, and is something which thought can never properly name, and which body makes no effort to.  The only approach to privately getting a grip on it is by engaging in the investigation of the mystery: “What is it that motivates my interest in the non-physical matters to which I am attracted?”  An “answer” to this question is not the answer to the question – but in the ability to prosecute the inquiry itself.

J.

The unenlightened always worry about such matters as, “proving the existence of God,” long before they show any real evidence of their own.
 
 

You can forget the fear many feel that the public figures running man’s political, religious and financial institutions are engaged in a conspiracy to control him.  It is the powers you do not see that you have to worry about.  (It is the same as with the power directing your individual life, and thinking.)

 
 
Everyone on the planet enjoys hearing people talk about the sad things in life – except for one guy just outside of Memphis.

A man with something he believes he needs to say,
is a man to not be listened to.

Corollary: 

A man who wants to help you
 is a disaster bearing down on you.

J.