Men Do Serve a Larger Design–Speech
Audio = Stream from the bar; download from the dots
10/21/1991
Summary = See below
Condensed News Items = See below
News Item Gallery = jcap 1991-05-20 -0884
Transcript = None
Key Words =
Summary
#884 Oct 21, 1991 – 1:00
Notes by TK
Prefatory remarks to :06 (everybody will succumb to the PL, but that does not mean all must submit to the SL/Secondary Level). Kyroot to :22. Everybody gives lukewarm credence to the concept that all men are serving a larger design or work. Only the Neural Revolutionist sees the true significance of this truism, gives it passionate credence and can move outside its scope.
Speech is the ultimate assessment-measurement; it is the larger design/purpose that man serves. The details, particulars of speech are beside the point; but it is these specifics that force men to immediately lose sight of the truism that man fits into a larger design. If you can talk about it, you’re serving destiny. It is directly impossible for men to look after their own best self-interest; they can only participate in a collateral pursuit.
One purpose of religion is to give the immediate possibility of collateral pursuit, looking out for other’s interest, e.g., make god proud of you) in light of man’s incapacity at self-interest. Condemnation is not for the purpose of summary-execution, but to force you to “plead your case”. The Secondary Level World stays alive by talk; talk survives by being inconclusive, by speaking of tomorrow, success tomorrow.
The News
The only real revolutionist life is a contemporaneous one; there is no now but right now.
***
And now for another page from the “Insider’s Handbook”: Many of the numbers you now take for granted were “made up”. (Next time we’ll consider the question of words.)
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There’s this one guy who keeps up with the news 24 hours a day, and he’s not even hooked up to cable tv.
***
Although being the youngest of seven brothers apparently had nothing to do with it, this one fellow theoried that it might be better to go ahead and think all of the thoughts he had laying around, and in that way, perhaps, to neutralize them.
***
Unlike others: A revolutionist in a relative position ain’t got no position.
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One guy used to try and take his mind out for walks; but even after several decades of intensive training he still couldn’t get it to stop peeing on his foot — so he just started leaving it at home…(Just like his ole man had done…and just as would probably be best for all of us.)
***
All creations are acts of nepotism.
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If you care to describe what your attitude is toward a particular subject, be advised: It is not your attitude — rather, you’re its person. (Historical footnote: Only the extremely backward galaxies still believe that nouns control verbs. …[Of course only the most primitive solar systems believe the opposite].)
***
Although we all work for life, it is the collective that is salaried and on-the-books.
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While the primary obviously plays hard ball, the secondary offers badminton, but with ballistic birdies. …(And an ole philosopher fumed, “I guess dear departed granddad was right — everything does have its price.” “Oh, I say — what did the ole boy die of?” “Being overcharged.” “Oh, I say.”)
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Disgusting Law Number Two-Thirty-Yuk: No measurement is good outside the time and place it was made; (the truly disruptive would want to add the question of the measurer to the formula.)
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Everything seems to get better just before you leave on a trip you don’t want to take. (Caution: Several family members over in Galaxy F-O-4 attempted to misuse this info by applying it directly to their respective heads, chests, and other areas, which resulted in a temporary rash, and a permanent waste of time.)
***
What humans tend to forget is that many of the catastrophes rained down on them by the gods were in payment for them not giving the proper attention when the Big Wahoos were trying to tell what kinda guys they were.
***
A viewer writes: “Watching your show has changed the way I think about talk.”
***
As this one god bounced around yelling, “I am the champ, I am the champ” his local reality walked in on the scene and said, “Say! — has somebody been telling him that he won again?”
***
Everything’s indigenous.
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(Related conversation fragment): “Everything’s indigenous.” “Hey! — So’s your ole man!” “Yep — him too.”
***
While out resting in the midst of their morning run, one guy’s higher echelon hormones mentioned to him, “If you have to find yourself through some collective activity with other ordinary men don’t be too sure you even have a self worth looking for.” (Sweaty Moral: Just because something sounds sarcastic doesn’t mean it’s not true.)
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One guy says what he likes best is that on drugs he can think louder.
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Intellectual Progress Marches Right Along: One man removed the capitalization shift key from his typewriter so that no letter could have an unfair advantage over any other one. (Hup, two, three, four, Hup…)
***
In secondary courts: men are condemned not to be executed, but so as to plead their case. (“As long as I’m alive I’ve got a chance” — Correcto, amigo: “As long as I’m alive I’m alive.” — Gracias.)
***
Quoting now from the Official Transcript of his life, this one man said: “My mind is like a high, dry peninsula jutting proudly out into the seas of stupidity.” And his occipital lobe suddenly shouted — ‘Look out! — here comes a fuckin’ hurricane!'”
***
To assure that things went as smoothly as he knew they should, the king never appointed a second-in-command.
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And from the Ole Insurrectionist’s Kitchen comes this culinary cue: Men of convictions will best keep to a constant diet least an unexpected blintz shake the foundations of a mighty intellectual structure. (Gotta admit — they know this operationally, already, out in life, but they don’t know that it’s something capable of being directly seen and reduced to a recipe.)
***
On a busy corner stood a man with a sign saying, “My Mind Has No Connection To My Feet.” Some dismissed the idea, and those who embraced it were heartbroken — oh, they walked off smiling and smug, but they were heartbroken, and never knew it, and hence never learned from it.
***
There was this one man who was so alienated from his home city that he even thought with an accent.
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Hey! — The people who made you sick will always offer to treat you…Hey! — Big Deal!!
***
As the noon time lunch crowd gathered in the speaker’s area of city park a gent took to the soap box and began, “The human mind is like a storehouse…”, and someone yelled, “What do they store there?”, and the speaker said, “No, wait, that’s not the point — let me finish: The human mind is like a storehouse…”, then another voice shouted out, “Is the stuff stored there insured?”, and the speaker waved them off, replying, “No, no — you people are getting it all wrong, and if you don’t quit interrupting me I just won’t tell you about it at all.” (And this threat proved so discombobulating that several people dropped their bologna, or knockwurst, which the squirrels promptly ridiculed.) …(And a viewer with a cellular phone faxed in the following: “Sirs: Ofttimes your stories seem as though they are carrying an important metaphorical message — right up until the very last line, and then it’s like — “BLAM-MO!!” or something, and I seem to loose the whole point. So I ask you — what is the point under such conditions? [It sometimes reminds me of brother Leroy’s own life].)
***
In a really good finite swindle — the floor would cheat the ceiling, the keyhole dupe the door, and opposing walls sucker one another. (L.M.U. — (Legal Maxim Update): A man’s head is his closet.)
***
(A little Dijon for that last Swiss-&-rye): A finite flim-flam is always a win/win game — at least for the finiteness.
***
Some Kyroots are connected, and some are not, but even those that aren’t might…well, by now I’m sure you can fill in the rest.
***
One description of secondary warfare is: Having strong aims, and a weak infantry. (Old soldiers never die; they simply change uniforms from shells to feathers, then back to shells, and on to feathers, and on like that. Like that, oh that.)
***
The sophisticated of this one city was such that when you applied for a copyright for a song you had to designate whether it was fiction or non-fiction.
***
Oh yeah, there’s this other real good natured ole god who’ll tolerate almost any kind of practical joke — except bringing a paternity suit against him.
***
Troubling trajectory no one needs to note: old hormones tend to be tired; tired hormones tend to be dangerous; and dangerous hormones tend to be dictatorial — so, there you are. (The hobbyists worry about Learning from history, while the tree-merchants take a closer gander at everyday sequence.)
***
Slipping privately into the bathroom, and studying deeply his ole man’s reflection, the kid whispered aloud, “Did we not have others to criticize — Sweet Jesus, where would we be then?!!” (“Oh, Baby Cakes — don’t leave the water running and steam up the mirror for the rest of us.”)
***
If you ask him just right, there’s this one man you can get to say, “Everyone who thinks they’re it — are!”
***
During one of their several annual festivals this one reality confessed to a table full of creatures that there was a coincidental relationship between the number of trees on their world and the number of stars visible from their northern hemisphere — “Meaningless,” he said, “but coincidental nonetheless.”
***
Whilst in hot intellectual pursuit of intricate ideas, whenever his mind would get temporarily disoriented and uncertain, this one musically inclined chap would exhort his neural band-mates on with the cry, “Vamp ’til you cramp.”
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Only a revolutionist can commit suicide more than once: only a revolutionist doesn’t want to.
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A city artist summed up one view in these words, “Were not life so horrifying, I would not be so poetic.” (Only the doubly-bent-&-sophisticated would stoop to reproaching the inevitable so aptly verbalized.)
***
For the sake of convenience and spatial certainty, this one fellow had his back yard placed right next to where he’d put his back door. (The power of sequence in a finite realm is such that it can allow its populace to debate whether it actually has any or not…Don’t you wish you had that kind of control!! — Hey! I wasn’t talking to you, I was speaking to your brain!)
***
If you do get to be king, you can still whine — (I suppose).
***
Creative Writing Tip from “Just-at-the-edge-of-sanity”: anyone written about — now exists. (For those already past the border, substitute “thought about” for “written about”, and keep the line moving.)
***
Another viewer writes, “Regarding your recent comments about how, if you treat people truly ‘impersonally’ that they will indeed take it ‘most personally’ — well, I’ve been watching your program for some time now, and while much of it is interesting, I have suffered through much that is annoying if not improbable, but this — this, I’ve got to tell you, is almost too much; even I’m peeved at this one. Hoping-for-a-better-day, yours sincerely,” etc.
***
One guy would periodically interrupt his own show and remind himself and his internal audience that the program was not for real, and that he’d just made the whole thing up. (On some occasions they were so overcome with this directness that they gave him a standing indifference.)
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Program Note: Due to a bureaucratic foul up in our financial forecasting, the Hog Scores will not be given this evening.
***
No matter where he lived, this one guy would pretend that it was “okay”: this finally drove everyone nuts — including himself — which was the point.
***
After the formal meeting was concluded, and they commenced the segment they called, “Stand Up and Say Something,” this one chap stood up and said that far too many of the world’s “Great Ideas” had been stolen from him before he was born. (Several of the older members are now talking about having a new time set aside for, “Sit Down and Shut Up.”)
***
Whenever this one reality was kinda low, and would check into an out-of-town motel for a few days to recover, it would always register as, “Mr. & Mrs. Alonzo P. Excitement” — just to keep up appearances.
***
Note from the present city: there are no support groups, or retirement homes for reformed poets.
***
Everything exists for its own sake, including other peoples’ old tin cans left laying around that you can curse and kick away.
***
In their initial attempt to earn their money the P.R. consulting firm recently hired by this one god advised the Big Client that if he wanted to be more popular he should adopt some “Endearing little traits”. (Should I risk giving any of you serious folks the blues by insinuating that he even entertained the possibility?!!)
***
Well…look at it this way: no one is succeeding but the revolutionist! (It is true…impossible to see…impertinent and irrelevant — but — true!)
***
Health Myth For The Day: one man became so dysfunctional that he began helping others. (It could only happen in — the City!)
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A visiting observer says that perhaps one man’s second silliest activity is drama — pretending to be living an actual life; (he notes that the first silliest one is too obvious to mention).
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This one city mother gave all her children similar advice when they left home — “Don’t ever give your hormones a credit card!”
***
The more complicated something is, the easier it is to fix; ’cause when it does break down people can’t comprehend the extent of the problem. (It is exactly through such marvels of Reality Engineering that some creatures come equipped with their own repair kits, and specious shavings to toss in the crankcase.)
***
One guy’s finger bled only when he cut it.
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Twice a year, this one reality would remind its generals: “Not knowing what you’re doing is never an excuse for you guys in the front line.”
***
Everyone will succumb to the primary, but not all must submit to the secondary.
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Regular realities permit two types of questions: those that are meaningless, and those no one has thought of.
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If you took everything that everybody knows, and put it all together, you’d still have some room left. (Even finiteness is larger than a finite mind can measure, or else the city and ordinary thought would be everywhere by now.)
***
Once he began to reminisce, this one god’s time was about up.
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The primary can’t be changed — the secondary must be.
***
One man trained a squirrel; then the squirrel trained him; then the man fell into a haze and dreamed they were Mary and the lamb, I and Not-I, the primary and the secondary, and the squirrel said, “I’m gettin’ the hell outa here!”
***