Speech Has a Life, Purpose and Hunger of Its Own
Audio = Stream from the bar; download from the dots
08/21/1991
Summary = See below
Condensed News Items = See below
News Item Gallery = jcap 1991-03-22 -0858
Transcript = None
Key Words =
Summary
#858 Aug 21, 1991 – 1:00
Notes by TK
Kyroot to :22. Human speech is no longer unnecessary: it is not an option, but it part of Primary Level World now. Speech has a life, purpose and hunger of its own. Speech requires exercise in the same sense that muscles do. Note the “coincidence”: we live in the “information age”, which is also the “talk age”: the Secondary Level World shadow of Primary Level World origin.
All forms of expertise, analysis, assistance are based on speech; it is the unrecognized link-pin of all Secondary Level World activity. E.g., the increasing growth of “talk shows” and expert analysts and commentary on the TV news regarding events.
Epilogue: hellos to out-of-towners.
The News
In a finite world: Just past everything is itself all over again…in disguise.
***
A hastily erected sign near an ephemeral city institution directed the citizens — “Quiet! Reality Going On.”
…(And after pausing for a semi-dramatic moment, Kyroot added: That which is quiet too long will be quiet a l-o-n-g time.)
***
One man says he’ll know that even the civilized have become civilized if they ever take full note of the fact that the hungry don’t have psychological problems.
***
You can only be mad if you don’t know what you’re mad about.
***
Over in the city, near the recycling center, a gentleman accosted me and rhetorically inquired, “If we couldn’t complain, how’d we know how much fun we were having.”
***
If man could see the apparent future, it would be saying, “Hey chump, why you lookin’ this way.” …(Of course, this news is somewhat disturbing insofar as man’s looking in the other direction has thus far proved of such questionable value. [‘Tis almost enough to make a man want to cry out, “Then which way should we look? And who drew up these railroad schedules, anyway?!”])
***
One ole sorehead punched the guy next to him in the ribs just northeast of the sternum and said, “Hey, if hard work alone counted for anything, volcanos would be headin’ up all the Fortune Five Hundreds.”
***
A concerned viewer writes: “Dear Kyroot, I think that you should periodically `state outright and emphatically’ that each time you use the words ‘king, city, god, revolutionist, viewer, ole-man-&-the-kid,’ that you actually mean something by them other than what I think they mean; for if you don’t intend additional meanings, then what you’re saying is even more outrageous and exciting than I think it is already, and the way it stands now is that I don’t hardly understand it at all, anyway, but I love it! Yours sincerely, etc.”
***
An Off-Broadway, Out-Of-Town suggestion: If you can’t bear your life as a routine, tragic drama, then make it into a musical comedy. (Of course, then you’ve got to accept its silliness and pretension — but, Hey! — are we troopers, or are we not.)
***
One deity was heard to remark, “If you enjoy talking about yourself, then one down-side to being a god is that you can’t explain to anyone else what it is that you do.”
***
The mayor of one bustling city proclaimed a new Day of Commemoration wherein the Apparent-Tolerance-Of-The-Timid would be officially honored.
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One man described a cycle’s apparent attempt to secure its completion in these words — (he said): “Just before the bottom fell out, the top fell out.” …(Reporter’s Note: I don’t believe that here we’re dealing with some amateur cycle.)
***
One guy says that a lot of things are a lot easier to prove than they are to believe.
***
A certain reality said to its creatures, “I just love it when you talk dirty to me,” and one of them thought, “Jeeze, that’s not why we were doing it.”
***
Whenever he didn’t know what he was doing, this one guy’d stop and make plans — what a guy!
***
A god sent one set of his creatures off on a different course than originally intended, when, by a slip-of-the-tongue, instead of “winding them up” — he whined them up.
***
You couldn’t “get the best” of this one guy — he’d arranged it so’s he didn’t have any.
***
A viewer writes in to say that he’s almost sure he’s the true author of all the Kyroots; he says he doesn’t know how to prove it, and asks for my help.
***
If there was a revolutionist Union Station, whenever you went there, and whatever question you asked, you would always be told that “The trains are on the tracks, the tracks are on the ground, and everything is right on schedule.” …(and Kyroot added: Hey, don’t ask! There ain’t no revolutionist bus stations — [“Praise be” for periodic rest stops].)
***
Secondary Fashion Tip: In the city, never search for answers while you’re naked. …(P.S.: As if you could.)
***
One man says he’s just sure he’d be on the road to something worthwhile if he could figure out how to change his middle name to one that would nullify his first and last.
***
One man (who claims to be speaking for all of his own kin) says, “If I had known the journey was so short, I would have started later…no, wait; if I had known the course was going to be so long, I would have started sooner…hold it! I don’t know what I mean!” and then all his relatives said, “Now! Now you’re talkin’ for us.”
***
One note we received is from a gent who says that his typewriter has no letter “T,” and that should we ever hear from him again, we should keep this in mind.
***
Now for the Six O’Clock Fable: There was once a planet of creatures who all got together and said, “Hey, let’s try and make more out of our lives than there actually is.” (And smiling behind his hand, their reality was quite proud of them.)
***
A chap over near a preposition offers the following as another potential name for all of this: “Non-Stick Latex For Those Wishing To Paint Themselves Into Corners.”
***
There’s this one man who — if you ask him directly — will say that he has at least one copy of every book ever written, and if you say you don’t believe it he’ll say, “Prove it.”
***
One elderly general (well into his proprietary port) exclaimed, “One of my saddest days (back during the Middle Conflicts) was when I was informed that my favorite leftenant had been captured, and was being held by yesterday.”
***
Ofttimes the bundles — I mean, groups in charge — (Say, look, does anyone know why these notes keep slipping up and using the word “bundle” when they then claim to have meant “group” — Well?…Say, look, back to the body-of-the-matter) — Ofttimes the groups in charge would say, “Hey, how’d we get in charge?” or, “Hey, we’re not in charge.” …(Some Marys want to say that they don’t tell the Lamb what to say; except that Marys can’t talk, and when they turn around, there’s no one else behind them. …[Well, no one else or thing describable…that is, if they could speak and tell us about it in the first place.])
***
Don’t take a drug that’s prone to have fits.
***
After saying that he considered himself to be his own best friend, he paused for a bit then added, “I suppose this is an unconscious commentary on my psychological indisposition towards interpersonal intimacy — (whatever the hell `psychological’ means).”
***
One guy said, “As you probably already know.”
***
One man says, “In my city, everyone’s attitude is my attitude; I have adopted this position, whenever there, for lack of any alternative.” — (What a citizen!)
***
One ole man proclaimed, “Our family tradition has long held that a fable that `makes sense’ is like dead oatmeal,” and the kid said, “Who cares,” and the ole man replied — “Exactly!!”
***
Remember: In the secondary world, guns don’t kill people, other people saying BANG does.
***
One would-be revolutionist said, “I suspect we should keep up the pressure along these lines, or else so-and-so may occur…(etc.),” but a corrective voice injected: “Nay, nay — a real subversive would ‘keep up the pressure’ just because that’s the thing to do.”
***
Sometimes when he’d get real excited, this one guy’d water his plastic plants. …(And a viewer writes: “Dear Kyroot, this is another example of where I feel there is more being said than a mere joke about a man who would try and tend to inanimate objects. (I was about to ask if I was correct, when my own last sentence suddenly punched me in the mouth, so thanks, and never mind.”)
***
One Kiddie-City’s predominate play-rhyme was: “It’s Nature’s fault, it’s Nature’s fault; when ‘er we talk it’s Nature’s fault.”
***
Then there was this other chap who, whenever he wanted people to feel sorry for him, would act more like himself. It never worked, but as he said, “I knew it wouldn’t.”
***
One exemplary city father directed his scion thusly: “A true gentleman never stoops to defend himself from verbal attacks — unless, of course, he’s been caught red-handed and needs to weasel out.”
***
For the revolutionist’s tastes, the lyrics can be just as complex as you like, but the melody remains as direct as the opening notes to Beethoven’s Fifth.
***
A chap who says he’s easily offended says he finds it quite easy to be offended — especially by anything new. (Might I note an unadvertised sale regarding the unexpected closeness of surprise and offense, for, after all: A man who wears green-tinted glasses sees the world as a noisy place.)
***
And from our viewing audience comes this note: “Sometimes as soon as you say something I think — `Why didn’t I think of that!’ but then again I think — `If I’d thought of that, I’d a’scared myself to death.’ Can you explain this? Yours Truly.” Maybe.
***
Whenever it was questioned regarding the matter of “re-writes and revisions,” this one reality would immediately clam up. (And a kid watching this thought, “Wow! When my little brain grows up, I want it to be just like that reality.)
***
Over in the coffee shop, one man said to his companion, “You know, if people did talk like they think, I bet we’d be even more confused than we are now.” (His friend replied, “No way! It’s not possible that margarine has the same calories as butter.”)
***
On those modern secondary expresses, when new cars are added to the train the engineer is the last to know. (Which is why man has time; and why yesterday seems to be past, and tomorrow up ahead.)
***
In the city library, in the smaller reading room, a voice, coming from behind where they store the unused Dewey Decimal Numbers, whispered, “I’ve either got to get smaller thoughts, or a larger brain.”
***
Some pleasures that enter through a Primary door take leave by a Secondary one.
***
In planning his next reality, this one god, for a while, considered making “LARGE, erroneous thoughts, misdemeanors, and small ones, felonies.”
***
If being silly’s a crime.
***
W-e-l-l…perhaps it would sound more significant to say, “If being non-serious is a crime.” …(Naw! — stick with “silly.”)
***
A viewer sensing one idea being potentially connected to an earlier one asks, “Isn’t this nothing more than everything being a case of `nothing more than’?” …(Perhaps we should invite him in from out of the range — I mean, rain.)
***
He figured his was to be an “unusual” existence when the highlight of his life was his downfall. …(Well, either that, or maybe he’d be a poet.)
***
When that great day came (that everyone dreads, that everyone dreams about, that no one knows about), the ole man declared, “Kid, any kid of mine is no kid of mine.”
***
Every song has as many verses as there are voices singing it.
***
After he had been famous for several years, this one guy studied himself closely in a mirror and remarked, “I still don’t look as much like me as I thought I would.”
***
Then there was this other guy who, whenever he didn’t have anything else to say, would shut up.
***
As he splashed, one chap exclaimed, “The neat thing about the Sea Of Speech is that even those who can’t swim can swim.” (Beach Blanket Moral: In secondary hobbies, the only difference in being able to do one, or not, is in whether you think you can, or not. …[And a viewer writes, “Help! I’m drowning! No I’m not, but I figured (and apparently rightly so) that such a related comment might get my letter more quickly read. Thanks, Yours Sincerely.”])
***
Metaphors that run only to the spiritual certainly have an illustrious history, but in today’s games their races can be measured in inches.
***
A somewhat subversive sort says that to him, “Disturbances are simply surprises that spit on you.”
***
All shadows bear a striking resemblance to the objects that cast them; all shadows bear a functional resemblance to the people who cast them; all secondaries bear an operational resemblance to the primaries that cast them. …(Only those down in the cheap-ticket-seats expect to see Parallel Tracks presented as a solo act.)
***
Remember: There’s no escape from living nowhere.
***
When it came time for City Spring Training, a few of the players tried to “hold out,” but their reality noted, “It’s nothing a little death won’t cure.”
***
One viewer’s letter had this to say: “Beyond all those other letter writers’ comments and questions on the matter, let’s just cut right to it — isn’t your show itself a metaphor?”
My Dear Viewer: In a finite world, what would not be a metaphor — (Other than the knob on the closet door, or the ultimate hand up Mary’s dress.)
***
One kid declared, “I’ll be damned if I’ll let someone else have my best thoughts for me.”
***