The Past Can Please Everyone Except the Few
AKS/News Item Gallery = jcap 1989-05-19 (0557)
Condensed AKS/News Items = See Below
Summary = See Below
Transcript = None
#557 * Oct 13, 1989 * – 0:58
Notes by TK
Kyroot to :04. Ordinarily the future is defined as unexecuted alternatives (thought-of alternatives); rarely it is conceived of s unthought-of alternatives. The former is a spatial treatment, another direction, although unmeasurable. In a categorization, the future is in one category whereas the present and past really only occupy only one category: the “PP” or Past-Present. There is really no the future, only A future. It is proper to refer to the local, but not the universal vs. A universal.
To predict the future is impossible; it is just Life musing to itself, thru man, and no man has all information necessary to predict. He is automatically wrong. There is an unrecognized awareness of this by ordinary men; everyone knows at some level that there is no the future, only A future. If Life allowed a man to predict A future 30 that others could hear him, it would be very upsetting to them.
The closest approach a man can make to successful experience of predicting the future is to experience the expected, what was wanted (or unwanted–same thing), the spatial. But the secret felicity of success to be had by a Real Revolutionist is to experience otherwise: the unexpected (i.e., the temporal, not the spatial). The joy of This Thing is its unpredictability; the payoff is always unexpected.
In a future, those who distinguish between instruction and entertainment, will receive neither. Relation to “you won’t believe what you don’t like”; the corollary: “you won’t believe it if you don’t like its source”. The disliked is learned as: the enemy, i.e., it is unlearned, no instruction took place. The love of, the harkening back to, the dependency on ideas from the past is pervasive because the past is so available to alteration; to be made into what one likes (one’s own interpretation). The past can please everybody…except for a Few.
And Kyroot Said…
On planet Earth there’s a difference between what you wanna
do, and what you reallyù wanna do. There’s also this virus that
can either keep you from recognizing the difference, or that
This can sound deceptively deceptive, but, under certain
exploratory conditions, the first place to look is the last place
the person in front of you looked.
Straight data is borrr-ringg data.
The Question-Of-The-Day on this one planet was as follows:
“Is ‘pleading for one’s life’ a fit undertaking for those whose
lives were shop worn, and refurbished to begin with?”
All right then answer me this…
In a more complex world apparent differences can overlap to
form a new singularity which is more than the mere combination of
If a man sexually amoured of his own hand is whimsically, if
not pejoratively, labeled an unappreciated solo artist, what
shall we call one so likewise attracted to his own brain?
I was privy to a new lesson in conservation when I met this
fellow who, rather than just throwing them away, or forgetting
them, would go on and use thoughts he’d had that even he didn’t
Over in this other locale, which, by the by, doesn’t have
mirrors, and law makers must wear garter belts, half of the
populace has the motto, “What you did was all you could do.”
(God bless ’em.)
I heard one guy attempt to explain his rather dull, stay-at-
home life style by saying that in his younger days he did travel,
and move about a lot almost as if in search of something, but has
now realized that it was himself that he had been looking for all
along — so there. (Are we to buy this guy’s story, or what?)
Overheard in a nearby library, a voice inquiring, “Just
which thoughts areù reusable?”
Over in that little humid sector of the near frontier one
fellow expressed the joy of his efforts by saying that he was to
the point where reality almostù made sense.
Those who hear far away voices are not themselves
necessarily far away.
Responding to the endless, historical condemnation of human
violence one fellow stated that if the gods hadn’t a’wanted men
to be aggressive we wouldn’t ‘ave been born with weapons.
The battle cry of one certain slick galaxy is, “Why shucks,
we ain’t gotù no battle cry, y’all.”
In an ephemeral moment of celluloid certainty one guy
muttered, “My life’s been just a bunch of outtakes.”
When someone asks, “Your place or mine,” you best first
ascertain if they’re from the same universe as you.
To worry about being hurt is to beù hurt.
In many places the daily special is always yesterday du
Apparently as some attempt at humor, one guy would often
sing to himself, “Please don’t talk about me when I’m gone…”