Jan Cox Talk 0875

Man Can Not Only Talk, But Can Talk to Himself

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Summary = See below
Condensed News Items = See below
News Item Gallery = jcap 1991-04-29 -0875
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Summary

#875 Sep 30, 1991 – 1:00 
Notes by TK

Kyroot to :19. Evolutionary time zones” exist in the nervous system of man. External human time-zone-diversity forces the need for each stage to communicate with its overlapping neighbor stage, i.e., to engage in talk. Division generates complexity and man contributes to division. Man is the only such creature who can so contribute because he lives and functions simultaneously in many evolutionary time zones—collectively and individually: a man alone can churn up energy. Man is not only the only creature that can talk, he is the only one that can talk to himself.

In the Nervous System some time zones are more ready/able to engage in speech. The silent parts are the basis of evil spirits, unconscious complexes, etc. An example of the complexity of overlapping time zones in man: religion led by sophisticated, sharp-dressing theology PhDs rather than sandal-clad monks. Another example: PhDs spinning spirit-laden warning myths for primitive societies to protect their environment and convey urgency of ecological considerations.


The News

The continual insistence on the soundness of one’s verbal currency is not only proper, but also assures its eventual and necessary devaluation.

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While life annoys or challenges most, a few managed to be entertained.

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One city critic registered his sentiments by saying, “As regards our preferences in proverbs: I find it a good thing that it is not accountants who tabulate taste.” …(Dear Listener: Your translation is in the mail.)

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The collective, genetic thinking of man enlightens the individual mind in the same way headlights help illuminate the way for cabooses.

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“Son, do try and remember this,” the older tongue advised, “never tell an ordinary man, ‘I know what you mean’, if you actually do.”

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One man’s tip: “The only proper way to iron your sheets is in the dark.”

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While you’re on-line for city demands, it’s h-a-r-d to dance without talking.

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The whole purpose of neural inbreeding is to cause the senseless to find it all quite sensible.

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Local gods only have local authority; all gods are local gods; …(same for thoughts).

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Alternative fingering for this philosophical sonata: “Those who forget the lessons of the difference between, ‘disinterested’ and ‘uninterested’ are doomed to repeat them.”

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Just as the fires are lighted, most of Joan’s voices cease.

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Today’s update: The world’s big enough for everybody — and when it’s not, it ain’t.

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During a temporary reality warp, the designer told the ad men and owners: “Rather than claiming that the ship is unsinkable say that it will attract only the heartiest of icebergs.”

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From a more expansive view, collective thinking always fears the wrong things — it works, but is yet meaningless.

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One guy’s current motion is that ordinary thoughts are to the mind as the stomach is to indigestion.

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Got another letter from someone who’s been watching these programs and this viewer says he’s really been enjoying them, but has now developed this great fear that some evening I’m going to announce that there is no such person as Kyroot.

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There is a place where willful silence is manufactured — but they don’t distribute to this part of the universe.

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After surveying the available literature and history on the matter this one god told his little godling son, “When in doubt, shout.”

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At a time nearing the lad’s birthday, one man took his son to a quiet woods and told him, “On our family’s extraordinary journey you will go from the simple and childish into the land of maturity and sophistication; from there you will travel to the kingdom of skepticism and doubt, and finally out into the open plains of directness.” (The younger had to bite his lip to keep from asking if the elder was speaking metaphorically.)

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Lurking behind its own mask, every reality has its own face. (Backstage make-up tip: The proper thought-remover in most instances seems to be additional thought — [leastwise in city theaters].)

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Education, politics and religion are several of life’s ways of exercising imperative power with invisible weaponry.

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One man believes there’s a way out of everything — except simple sentences.

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One guy about concluded that if he didn’t look at himself long enough he might go away.

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Combination fashion and health tip from this month’s issue: “Collective thought is like a head-warmer for the neurally nude.”

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Historical, political and sociological side bar: (Please remember that these little footnotes have nothing to do with your own individual, symbolic neural processes, no matter what the Primo Potentate of Proverbs may say — okay, now back to it): All priests want to be politicians, and any who don’t have no business being priests.

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“We’re all ‘doing time’ in a lonely prison — nay!, in heartbreaking, solitary confinement,” so concludes the portion of the show dedicated to our poetic viewers.

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Responding to a question from his partner, (who sometimes pretended to be his kid), this one man said, “Sure there’s a cure for stupidity, but you don’t wanna hear about it.”

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One guy’s personal, operational motto was: “Hey — don’t let this get around.”

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As befits certain forms of justice, let it be noted that the noise of his sleep kept one man awake.

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A Far Away Fable Or Else Not So Far: There was once a king who had three sons; the first one had no heart, the second one had no brain, and the third had no permanent address. And one week before the Royal Ball the last prince asked the first, “What the hell’s a ‘heart’?”

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After undergoing the treatments he no longer insists that he’s George Phillip Telemann; he now says he’s simply a well known seventeenth century composer who’s undergone treatments.

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One of the city park philosophers hectored the crowd, “Catch phrases are just mental narcotics for the masses.” And a competitor, over near a tall filbert retorted, “Buzz words are the life’s breath of the likes of us all.” (And a squirrel thought, “Speak for yourself, Buster.”)

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When one of the creatures died and came to stand before their god for his initial Day of Judgment, the Big Guy’d always start off by saying, “Well, let’s see now, you’re about a size 7 — right?”

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If for some reason an ordinary man did wish to understand the vacuous benefits in trying to “study himself,” by the time he reached the possibility of so perceiving — it’d be too late — he would’ve produced one.

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One guy admits he’s more or less surprised at what he’s turned out to be, but says not half as much as had the opposite been true.

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The continuing belief that words can — in and of themselves — have some intrinsic magic is all that keeps some men from throwing speech to the ground and kicking the crap out of it.

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Doormats are by their very nature, paradigms of humility.

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If the band announces the song they’re going to play beforehand, (trust me), many dancers’ll act disappointed. (That’s why god invented the p.a. system.)

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(I guess just a bit of repetition amongst the rebels is periodically acceptable — so): “There is no freedom possible save internally, which is why the ordinary dream otherwise.”

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One neurally rebellious lad began to think of his own new inner ruler as, “The Sultan of Silence”. (A few years later he upgraded the name to, “The Emir of Grin”.)

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Another guy insists that being intelligent is just, “asking for it”.

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Title of a speech not to be delivered over in the city next Thursday: “How Life, Mortgage Companies, and Collective Thought Keeps You Consciously Busy With Secondary Matters Right Up ‘Til The Time You Die Broke”.

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Ponders one mind: “If it weren’t intended that there be several views there wouldn’t be several people, with several eyes, now would there?”

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At the sound of the tone, the time will be different for some, the same for others. Stand by…

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Then there was this other reality that forbade any further inquiries until everyone forgot what they already knew. (He wanted to tell ’em, “Trust me on this.”, but realized quickly enough that mature realities don’t have to make such lowbrow gestures.)

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Anything that interests a man either stimulates, or soothes him; a revolutionist system has no such choice.

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Out beyond the city limits of collective thought and speech, the future holds little promise for those with a past.

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A city political candidate said, “I do not apologize for, nor mind being aggressive and hostile.” And one of his paid advisers asked, “Then will you apologize for, or mind not winning?!!”

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For energy to move and work in man’s secondary world abstracts must be made concrete, theories, thing specific, and thoughts, fears and angers into words.

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Though not noticed, and never reported — every day the mob lynches somebody.

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In revolutionist, political models there are two forms of “The state”: the ordinary state of, “out-there”, the “Not-I”, and the movable state of, “I” — “In-here”.

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From a more complex, subversive view, the ordinary verbal defense of oneself, (as in telling, “what kinda guy you are”), is actually criticism-in-reverse.

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Puzzle for all you fans of such: if a ball is not a ball until it is thrown, and if a thought is not a thought until it is spoken, then fill in the rest of this line: “A man is not a man until he (blanks).”

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In the revolutionist life some good and honorable deeds are best kept secret, for brought into verbal light, they can appear to be treachery.

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One guy’s innards began to so resemble his outards that I don’t want to talk about it.

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A certain man who did know, finally asked his kid, with whom he had been talking for some time, “Do you now know what life is all about?” (He gave the younger one some time to think about it.)

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The un-codified, undignified, revolutionist version of “self-knowledge” is a form of playing piggy-back with yourself.

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The street corner haranguer hoisted his harangue to a harried pitch, proclaiming, “None are so blind, but who will not see; none are so deaf, but who will not hear, and none are so tiresome as those who would be so kind as to point this all out.”

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If court weren’t filled with intrigue and uncertainty why would anyone want to be a courtier, much less a peer, or sovereign?!! (Obvious corollary, opus three: only the people crave security.)

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Ordinary thought acts like a cookie cutter, carving things into smaller and smaller pieces, while, staying in that same part of the house, we’d say the revolutionist intellect operates as an oven.

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In normal, three-dimensional, sane, city life, any human who offers to instruct you on how to be a better human has a drug for sale in his satchel, and this is no censure since this is the way it is supposed to be, but consider then the near, nonexistent market for unpackaged, non-consumable revolutionist ideas.

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Ordinary, collective thinking only cares about local affairs, and there ain’t no such thing as, “local affairs”.

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City planning tip: Remember, even if you dislike something, even if it annoys you to the point that you resist, note — the son-of-a-bitch still works!!

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No matter how excellent — no example proves that which it exemplifies; that’s why it’s an example.

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Ordinary minds deal in evidence, revolutionist, in proof; oh, I’ll grant you — proof with no evidence, but proof just the same.

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That certain man I mentioned earlier finally said to the kid, “Do you know why I’ve never told you directly what life is all about? It’s because life is not about anything ‘directly’.”

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The man also told the kid, “Some things I can’t tell you about just now ’cause they’re too close to you.”

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He says that if, when and should he ever die, there is but one thing he’d like to leave to himself: this simple message — “Wise up!!”

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What could possibly be cuter than man’s collective thinking taking itself seriously. (It was, you might like to know, the inspiration for the character, Peter Pan.)

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Only a real revolutionist can play D.I. to himself and bark, “Shape up.” — and not know what it means…and not care.

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A person writes, “Regardless of what some other viewers seem to think — I’m not at all sure you’re a comedian at all.”

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Okay — Now I want everyone who’s a “big-boy-and-girl revolutionist” to stand tall, and yell out to yourself — “Hey! — come or don’t come, but shut up!!!”

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