Only the Unnecessary Is Criticized
Audio = Stream from the bar; download from the dots
08/14/1991
Summary = See below
Condensed News Items = See below
News Item Gallery = jcap 1991-03-15 -0855
Transcript = None
Key Words =
Summary
#855 * Aug 14, 1991 * – 1:00
Notes by TK
Kyroot to :24. Only the unnecessary is criticized. The Primary Level World is not sanely criticized. When things become stable and certain, they become immune to criticism. The Primary Level World is stabilized and certain (whereas at one time in evolutionary process it was not necessarily so). Ageing is a Primary Level World certainty/necessity; the elderly are invisible to the youthful.
All ordinary ideas eventually get old, become brittle, stable, becoming moot to younger ideas. No confrontation occurs between them; they ignore each other. Once thinking has aged it is no longer subject to criticism, to change, because it has become necessary and only the unnecessary is criticized. The dead are not subject to criticism.
The News
That which is alive to man always has a rhythm — a sense of time.
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Hormones will think only minimally (which is proper for juices in their position).
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Met a chap near the post office whose philosophy was: “One way you can spend your life is in search of how you should spend your life.”
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While all the people slept, the prince secretly changed the motto of the kingdom to “Sovereignty, Chaos And Sex,” and the next morn when they awoke, none were the wiser for it.
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Secondary logic on the half-shell (on the three and a half-shell, to be exact): A rebel position is always easier to defend than a permanent one in the city — in that renegade ideas are simpler to shoot, and then replace, than established ones.
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In one gooey land, the king decided, then declared, that everyone’s hobby should in some way “serve the sovereign,” and one villager thought, “Where’s he been?!”
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It is now believed that the Early Middle Ages rolled over and smothered many of the unwary.
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This one man, over in one existence, had a dance team for a brain, and the two partners would ofttimes converse, and on one such occasion, one brain — I mean, dance partner, said, “Once the subtle is seen, it’s no longer subtle,” to which his partner replied, “Oh, I do so agree, and that’s why I feel it s-o-o important that we continue to tell one another exactly what kinda guys we are — don’t you?!”
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This one kid said he had selected his heroes “objectively,” and when it was pointed out that they were all just external reflections of his own inner daydreams about himself, he said, “Mere coincidence — just like the rest of life.”
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Rubbing his hand with that dubious glee so endemic incertain ole soreheads, he explained, “One nice thing about an overcast day is that you can’t tell when the sun goes down.”
…(You know, I started to add that it’s well more ole soreheads don’t go on to become philosophers, but I fear I’m a little late once again.)
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One guy’s lips suddenly announced, “The day of small talk is over,” and the guy looked at his partner, his partner looked back at him, then they both cried in unison, “What’ll we do now.”
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A viewer writes to carp: “On your shows, time seems to get askewed. Yours Truly.” — Well, as-K-E-W-S ME!
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For those of you who still don’t get it, who simply don’t see how polar-based energy works around here, consider yet another subversive example: Why haven’t you ever noticed that the only people who ever speak of “equality” are the privileged and the un-privileged. How come you never noticed?!
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Regarding the usual evolution of individual civilization, one ole man told his kid, “If you never get sick to begin with, how can you ever get well?” and the lad asked, “Has anyone ever pulled off such a cerebral caper?” and the older one replied, “Just flip through the neural pages of history and watch out for places where parts of the book seem to have exploded and splattered goo on all who were there, or later thought about it.”
…(The view of this one village is that what truly makes city buses so neat is that they can’t go in a straight line.)
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One chap gave his neural occupation as: “Construction of shoulder pads for pygmies.”
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Entertainment Tip For The Day: If, as soon as you step on the dance floor, they offer to play your favorite — run for your life!
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And a viewer writes: “If, as that old line says — you could “run for your life,” then why do not more intelligent men do so?” Dear Viewer: Where have you been?!
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And now another reading from that great, sacred work, The Book Of The Impossibly Obvious: “There is no such thing as `no such thing.'”
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At a city council meeting, one member offered the following: “I propose that we establish a National Useless Enigma Day to honor our poets,” and another council member arose — “I resent that, for I, for one, respect and understand what our poets do,” and the first guy points to the second and replies, “Ah hah! Then I propose that we use him as fireworks and proof of my resolution.”
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One of the erstwhile park philosophers, staking himself out a spot on a street corner, noted to the passers-by, “Has been oft said that `women love love — not their lover,’ and I say to you with no hesitation — hormones know what they’re doing!”
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Remember: A man with the right attitude can be upset about anything. …(Also remember: Captain Irony has no kin; Captain Irony doesn’t need any! He’s got you!)
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According to secret Hollywood lore, the first “sight gag” was the appearance of Adam.
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In all ordinary kingdoms — no matter the peoples, no matter their religion or culture — the “Defenders Of The Faith” are, in fact, the guardians of life itself, in that men must dream they exist for purposes far beyond the horizon of their normal, collective view. (Thus, could be noted from a far-away-view that only the imprudent attack religion, while only the inane support it.)
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Hey! Can you believe it! …I mean, now…
…now that you’ve had time to think about it…since the last time I asked you…
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The leader of the orchestra in the left corner announced between songs: “Words that rhyme have a secret connection,” and the front man of the band over to the right replied, “Yes, just like all other words.” …(“And how is it?” one kid asked his ole man as they stood in the back by the bar, “that even with the immediate, and obvious closeness and connectiveness of a man’s own mental operations, that he does not recognize such arrangements in the world outside his head.” …[His father then realized that the boy was now old enough to stop drinking.])
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A “fixed” king will never sing.
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During the little segment they like to call the “Let’s Be Positive Time,” over at the weekly Ole Soreheads’ Anonymous meeting, one would-be, old reformed burr-brain took his turn by standing and stating, “At least a man with a `long-way-to-go’ can go a long way.” (Some of the other attendees were moved by this. …Not many — but a few.)
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One guy’s motto was: “Hey, going crazy’s the easy part.”
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The neural revolutionists in one reality used to say, “Ignorance doesn’t stand in the way, neither does stupidity, bad luck, or ugliness; the real bar is indiscreet seriousness. (But alas: Many among the dumb and uncomely didn’t understand the word “indiscreet.”) …(And a “right-on-top-of-things” viewer writes: “Why would you use the word `alas’ and take food right off Captain Irony’s plate? Sincerely Yours, and so on.”)
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The new producer over at the “God Only Knows” label called all the artists together and told them, “If you’re ever stuck for a song, just sing about yourself, ’cause god only knows — everybody loves a comedy record.”
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One city’s temporary Resident Thinker And Reflector denounces the fact that when trains “go away, they won’t stay away.” …(One guy had an uncle who felt that same way, but about something a little less massive, but no less noisy than a train.)
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If you’re ever asked to repeat something in unison with others, don’t assume you’re in a revolutionist camp.
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Only the unnecessary is criticised.
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Only the uncertain must be defended, only the secondary world justified.
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But recall: The secondary world looks after its own — and, man invented the secondary world. (Only man defends non-tangibles; only man creates non-tangibles.)
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The king most proclaims the charms of the unfair daughter and the talents of the bungling son. What else can he do? What else can you do within your own domain. (Un-championed myths have no majesty, and will not stand.)
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On one level, all dances are fights waiting to erupt, and on another floor, all fights are just interludes between dances, but do note: Throughout the building — no matter what’s going on — everyone’s still dancing.
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One tale tells that Mary and The Lamb invented dancing.
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His mind began to give out on him at about the same time the low summer rates went up.
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One big-hearted reality once sat his little creatures down and told them this little “comfy-story”: “There was once a man who got s-o-o far behind that he became the front runner in the following race,” and all of them shouted, “Ahhh, but were that so.” Then he said, “Okay, where’ve all you guys been?!”
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One guy wore unnecessary braces on his arms and legs so, as he put it, that at least from the “head down” he’d know what he was doing.
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Consumer Tip For A Tuesday: Just rewriting yesterday’s letters will not change the price of postage. Moral: Consumer Tips don’t have a bleedin’ moral! …What are you — nuts?
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One kid began to look so much like his ole man that the latter quit talking to him.
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A chap in the city confides that although he’s always pictured his intellectual aspirations as “breath-takingly complex piano concertos,” the actual practice has proved to be little more than finger exercises. …(But why despair too soon in a polar-based world with so many glorious opportunities on every hand for the normally ambidextrous and two-faced? After all, their business was of little account until Mr. Stein met
Mr. Way.)
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One ole city sorehead (whose past record of speaking in metaphors is spotty) noted that while he approved of some aspects of modern consumer techniques, what he does regret is that you “can’t shoplift by mail.”
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All three-dimensional universes have more than one ballroom, and each ballroom has its own orchestra, and each orchestra has its own name, and members, but they’re all booked through the office of the Ministry Of Religion, Culture, And “We Can Dance Better Than You Can.”
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Old hormones laugh at young hormones — well, as much as old hormones do laugh. …(That is a bit harsh and personal…
…let’s do it this way: Old realities laugh at young ones.)
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There’re only two reasons to defend your territory: You’re either being primary and normal, or secondary and stupid.
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Once it was officially Friday, the king took to his royal balcony and proclaimed to his people: “Only the ugly fear mirrors, and only the avaricious spread mercury onto glass,” and two dozen of the town’s folk stepped forward and spoke to His Excellency with one voice: “Oh ruler, better you should confine your energies to those basic areas most suited to your talents, like fortress building, territorial defensing, rape and murder, and leave the philosophizing to those other dung heads with which you have so graciously surrounded yourself.” …(Do some people know how to treat their king, or what! …[Once upon a Timex, in a ballroom far away, they tell of one guy who got s-o-o good at dancing backwards that his partners could never tell whenever he’d “Do his little trick.”])
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One kid inquired, “Pa Pa, I am still confused: If man’s everyday, secondary world is not truly all that `serious,’ then why does he take it so serious?” (And the ole man left the air knife-cutting-thick with his non-response.)
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I hate to be crude (how’s that for a n-e-a-t opening for what’s to follow) — but: A man who’s a “proud citizen of anywhere” is a: drowned-cat, kicked-dog, collective-thought, dunder-dancer with a perverse desire to be dipped-and-dribbled on. (Now, he can be more than this, but anything additional is not going to get any better.)
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One bundle who became king said it “got that way” through a “hormone imbalance.”
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When he had two pieces of paper he wished to keep together, this chap would put a paper clip on one of them; he says that all exercise for the mind is good — even the useless, since this seems to so well dovetail with the exerciser himself.
…(In an apparent middle-aged-fit of some kind, this one reality screamed at its creatures — “Oh Yeah! Speak for yourselves!” and several of them yelled back, “Oh but that we could!” …[And yet another viewer is inclined to write and say, “Why is it, kind sir, that in so many of your little stories there are superior entities (like gods, kings and realities) conversing with man? This has never happened to me and I’m surely at least a `small cut above average.'” And “P.S.” he adds, “I’ll bet you think I don’t expect you to respond to this directly, and as always — I’m right. Sincerely Again, etc.”])
…and Kyroot said: It’s good to be of service and not have to know it.
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A man with a glass eye has two choices: He can either see monoscopically or have a fragile ego — but not both! …(Well, not if he expects to marry your daughter.)
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The everyday theological-philosophy of a certain galaxy (which has developed a numbers system singular to themselves) is as follows: “While the seas are filled with the cries of the drowning, this is balanced by the beaches being littered with the deaf.” (At last report their Tourist Board had as its logo a smile and a tombstone, with the words “Why Not You?”
…[I feel obliged to note that many viewers believe my little stories of “far away places” to be much further away than they actually are; …(But, then again, many people’s “believing mechanism” is far too close to home to be much trustworthy).])
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This one guy’s rallying cry, whenever he was the hometown team in his head stadium, was: “Always Alert To The Ever-Present Threat Of Certainty.”
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A tall fellow acting as one of the city park philosophers took to the speakers’ area and thusly did he speakly: “All of the joy of life is but intoxication,” and a squirrel said to a visiting cousin, “How true, how true; and the marvelous thing around here is that their drugs come both in bottles and in words!”
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