Jan Cox Talk 0798

To Be a City Expert, You Can Never Tell the Truth or Get to the Point

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Summary

#798 Apr 3, 1991 – 1:00 
Notes by TK

Kyroot to :16. A panel of experts offering explanations for modern social ills as caused by unhealthy pressures of “society”; but the brain is not charged with the responsibility of establishing or understanding causes, so it must continually furnish the substitute for causes: explanations. To analyze even a fraction of an inch beyond these explanations reveals their absolute incompetence. The more intellectual a person is, the more they must deal in explanations, ideas, factual fabrication, i.e., ‘lying”, fairytales. To be a City expert you can never tell the truth or get to the point.


The News

901105-01
Header: FACTS – THE ULTIMATE HUMAN ENTERTAINMENT

Quite distinctly this one guy said, “I can hardly wait.”

In the contest between good and evil, right and wrong, the team of evil-and-wrong say they are bloody tired of second billing.

One man said,
“Some think I’m smarter than others”;
this sentence is fraught with danger.
Thus the poseurs hold their nosers in contempt that things might be so plain.

As those who have always know – there’s a difference in knowing something
and proving something.

One guy would very often attempt to excuse himself with the clever ruse of saying,
“Excuse me.”

“Thank goodness”, said one of the king’s uncles, “at least when one wishes to change one’s mind, the services of an interior decorator are not require.”

One of the better-known, though unknown, intellectual cartels has as its operational slogan, “We Promise What No One Can Ever Deliver.”

In one, somewhat more aggressive galaxy, the show’s not over ‘til the fat lady says,
“Hey, who you callin’ fat!”

FACTS – the ultimate human entertainment.

A fellow stopped me on the street yesterday and said that in his continuing battle not to become a complete ole sorehead, he keeps his spirits up by reminding himself that someday a famous person may hit him with their car.

“Remember”, said the substitute teacher in first period, Other-Worldly Economics, “if you own it all, you don’t need a calculator.”

When it comes to a fit, operational definition of man’s ordinary thinking processes, do note that “low expectations” is just a smart-ass way of saying “proper expectations”.

Often during the regular business day when he would pass one of those cheap, commercial public mirrors, this one chap would pause slightly in mid-step and say to his somewhat distorted reflection, “And the funny part is – it’s so true, oh so true………
Well, back to work.”

One guy was having none of it.

In a kingdom of patterns, no one is king supreme; thus be the power of beauty of patterns.

There is an integrity to willful silence that can’t be learned through engineering.

One ole guy wants us to know his idea that, “The social sciences are the City’s secret diaper service.”
There are some trans-dimensional construction companies that do work you would not believe.

One chap’s observation for a viscid Monday was,
“The most fun about ‘being yourself’ is that it’s so funny.”

This one god said he’s know he was on the right track if he ever came up with a creation in which he could select a would-be prophetic mouthpiece for himself, and give him a secret message for the rest of the creatures, and then the guy run off and never tell anyone else.

For a while, this one man carried squirrels in his pockets,
until he realized how dumb they were –
his pockets, that is.

Whilst waiting by a television tower, a gentleman came up to me and said quite plainly,
“The best thing about repeating yourself is that no one ever notices.”
Whilst waiting by a television tow – oh no you don’t!

One little turbo-charged town has officially outlawed “bad luck”, and replaced it with increased and ofttimes extreme forms of good luck.

If facts be not flexible, acts beseem intolerable.

The leader of the state’s religion was asked why its hierarchy wore such outlandish costumes that seems to serve no discernible purpose, and he replied, “Oh, that’s easy: The iffier the mess, the spiffier the dress.”

Whenever his thoughts seemed yet again destined to run their old familiar course, this one guy’d sometimes gang up on himself.

Over in one City a father told his kid, “It’s all right to be sarcastic as long as no one knows you are.”
Additional clarification: No one ever told anybody this.
Additional and final clarification: This is not true, and if you live in the City,
pretend you didn’t even hear it.

As his domain pushed with uncertain steps toward greater freedom, the king, in response to charges of voting irregularities, state that if – if in fact any election fraud had occurred, it was caused by “allegations.”
(Certain unpleasantness arose after this, and he quickly claimed he’d been misquoted, insisting that what he’s meant to say was, “caused by alligators.”……..
[following this, even more unpleasantness presented itself].)
Oh, you might be interested to know that it was the same ruler’s youngest son, who some years later made a temporary splash of himself when he advanced the notion that all crime was the result of accusations and indictments.

One guy says you can put his name down.

In its attempt to cut a unique notch in the highly competitive academic ladder, this one university decided to determine which course the most students like, and offer only that one, day-after-day, year-after-year, class-after-class.

Got a sweaty letter here from a dude who says, “I’ve been watching your shows for several months now, and I really like ‘em, but I just gotta ask you something –
are you finally gonna comment on every fuckin’ thing in the world?”

In several locations were erected stairs that didn’t lead to anything.

To be unhappy at home, alone, may be the ultimate City triumph.

Trying to make sense out of things already know is like trying to…like trying to…
well, like trying to think.

When the conditions in the City are “just right” the contents of the broadcast can physically affect the radio receiver…
(P.P. and S.: The conditions are always right.)

After the startling collapse of two of his best realities within a period of days, this one god’s wife said, “I warned you about that shit.”

Being human is a serious thing;
being considered a serious human thinker makes it that much worse.

On especially bleak days this one chap likes to compare his thought processes to a performance of Wagner – (“Except”, he says, “you can’t dance to it.”)

“Getting warm” is half the trick; staying warm is the second half, avoiding the fuel bills is, of course, the remainder.

“After watching your program for a while”, begins one letter, “I feel somewhat better, if not relieved in that I now ofttimes say to myself, ‘Hey, what’d be the fun of thinking if it actually went anywhere’?”)

Title of a new reality – no wait, let’s change that, let’s just say – title of a new book:
“The Weighty Freedom of Not Wanting Anything.”

As a king and his spiritual advisors stood watchfully by:
From the ashes there arose – a mighty cloud of ashes!

From one sleep came all our dreams, form one word – the mental landscape.

Although they’d waited several thousand years, once the menu was read out, all the diners ran for their lives.