The Intellect Operates on Principle of Vagueness
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Summary
#929 Feb 3, 1992 – 1:03
Notes by TK
Kyroot to :23. Treating the obvious as if it weren’t obvious is the same thing as being able to ignore it. Since man’s Secondary Level World directed by derivative info/maps, the obvious is cloaked in a flurry of words, e.g., “double speak”, double-standard “ironic” behavior. The Primary Level World however runs on the plain and direct, w/o the ambiguity which is required at the SL (Secondary Level). The brain/intellect operates on a principle of vagueness.
The News
One of the continuing popular tunes in today’s charts is entitled, “If You Don’t Love Me, Why Did You Shoot Me?”
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The definition of being “civilized,” according to one man, is being able to hear an expert on human behavior speak and not wanting to smile.
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After many years of spiritual study and philosophical reflection, this one man gradually developed his own personal “saying” that he would say to himself whenever things weren’t going so well, (he’d say): “Jeeze, things aren’t going so well.”
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{During the recent Arts Appreciation Week in the city, one chap made his stand by declaring, “I shall never support, nor condone the use of uncontrolled vibrato!”}
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With a certain degree of clarity, a young court courier one day thought, “Once the king starts quoting other men’s ideas as the basis of his authority, we’re all in the sheep dip.”
…(In all neural solar systems in this universe, suns that don’t know that they are — ain’t. …[And upon hearing this, a short man said, “Well, no wonder I don’t think so good!”])
…..{Corollated Axioms: A shy king is a happy king; a shy king is a pleasant king; a shy king is much loved by the people; and a shy king manages to pull all of this off in a relatively short time ’cause he don’t live too long. …(And that short man speaks again, “So it does have to do with one’s own mental processes!”)}
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{…and Kyroot noted: One reality, in a bit of a hurry, would allow no races held in its territories whose destination were known in advance.}
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An ole man and his son were in city park when one of the speakers proclaimed, “The truth will always out.” And a short time later, as they stopped at a street vendor to get an ice cream, the elder mentioned, “Regarding what that man said about, ‘The truth will always out,’ it should be added, ‘The truth will always out when life wants it that way,’ and at times when it apparently does not, and you seem to be on the short end of the deal, kick, curse and spit for an hour or so, and then just forget it! Two pistachios please, and hold the onions.”
…..{And almost simultaneously to the just mentioned scene in the park, a man sitting alone in his room across town looked at the window and thought, ” ‘Words-to-live-by’ don’t mean ANYthing unLESS you’re actually trying to live.” …(Some of the uncoordinated find it hard to think and live at the same time.)}
…..{One day, one subversively precocious kid suddenly bethunk: “‘Tis good to have an older relative upon whom one can look down.”}
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{First Voice: “Did you ever notice that some things you hear about seem to immediately make sense if you don’t talk about them much? Second Voice: “Yes, but then there’re other things that don’t seem to ever make much sense unless you talk about them a good bit.” The two voices fell silent, pondered this all for a while, then put their heads together and became one. (Soon after that, the city placed a price on their head.)}
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In some cities, the touring lecturer would say, “Time was invented so that history could ripen,” and in others he’d say, “History was invented so that time could ripen.”
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There was a man who struggled strenuously for many years to get everything in his personal life “perfect — and j-u-s-t right,” and the day finally came when he achieved success, and he was then kind enough to notice a new problem — keeping things that way. (He then thanked us for our views, and daringly leapt from the shoulders of a good friend.)
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Once the rats have moved into the mice’s part of town, some of the more timid in the later group hope that these rats now living in their neighborhood are sufficiently “bad ass” enough to keep out those who don’t. …(Hey-O, but unfortunately to say-o, this seldom seems to work out to the ultimate satisfaction of the mice. …[Life got bloated — burped — then continued to eat and expand.])
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All maps are ad hoc, and to forget this is to invite disorientation.
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A god recently assigned to a certain locale called all the creatures together and said, “I feel sure we shall all get along fine, but I do want to emphasize one of the requirements I expect you to meet…” and when he then added, “…and in this context I want to emphasize the word, ’emphasize’…,” the little darlings could already guess about what they were in for.
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The intellectual gardens of the collective display many attractive flowers, but to a revolutionist’s nose they all begin to smell suspiciously similar.
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{During half time, someone got on the public address system and stated, “A wise man did not get wise all by himself,” and a man in a mid-field box seat, over behind third bass near the soprano replied, “Then you and I either have a different definition of a ‘wise man,’ or else diverse conceptions of what ‘all by himself’ means.”}
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{…and Kyroot recalled: Is said that a certain subversive scribe declined the offer to “write a book” when he learned a Foreword was expected. …(Once ago, in the old wild east, one chap would only ride a horse after the steed assured him that it was ready to start “right then,” and “go all the way.” …[And a near-by man mused, “I always wanted a brain like that.”])}
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In a kingdom much more direct than yours, where they had cut out all unnecessary middle-men in their transactions, a man stood by the side of a road with a sign that said, “I will steal for food.”
…..{And on a planet far, far away, a young child asked his father, “Are there worlds anywhere on which creatures ever even think of saying the obvious? And if so — to what ends?”}
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A free-lance theologian grabbed center stage at the speaker’s spot in city park and delivered the following proclamation: “Hell is filled with people asking questions; hell is filled with people giving answers; hell is filled with all of those people who ever offered ‘to help’ — AND with their evil twin.” (He bowed solemnly to the crowd, then shouted, “What the hell!” and was out of there.)
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One man forced himself to wonder, “If knowledge is funny, how can ignorance be serious?”
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{A thoughtful appearing gent in a cardigan said that it is the routine physical and spatial demands of life that give him the most problems; (and his mind said — “Yeah!”) …(A fellow nearby said, “Haven’t you guys done another Kyroot recently quite similar to this one?” And the man in the sweater replied for us, “Perhaps, but you can NEVER cover THIS territory too often.”)}
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When he was asked to comment on the progress he had made, one man thought, “If you have to show ‘Before And After’ photographs to prove the change, it’s either hardly worth noting, or else illusionary to begin with.”
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{Wielding a kind of confined, albeit self-fulfilling, if not protective logic, one man, carrying suicide confidently in his back pocket, warned life — “Don’t fuck with me!”}
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{One Sunday while in the bathroom, the king thought, “I wonder if I’d like me more if I talked about myself more, and less so in the third person?….”}
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One city that spoke for many people had this to note: “The human mind is a delicate balance, and requires about all a person can do to keep it stable; so who needs anything that specifically rattles its already precarious condition.” …(And the revolution didn’t say, “Are you talking about me?”, because it doesn’t say stuff like that.)
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One man nicknamed his own mind, Bunky, (he said he found it a bit more “inviting” than the more formal Theodore.)
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Although you needn’t personally sweat the minor details of cliches, you might care to note that in the secondary world anything that truly “makes a comeback” will do so with a kind of vengeance. …(You might further like to remember this whenever faced with the normal return of whatever it is you’ve already thought.)
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{The rebellious ringmaster of one man’s mind referred to the ordinary population of the intellect as, “Those nervous without a net.”}
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Plans are in the works on this one planet to establish a holiday in honor to the man who discovered the reaction to unwanted facts of offering up a contradictory “personal anecdote.”
…..{A gentleman with a good job in the city contacts us to say, “You shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss ‘personal anecdotes,’ for while they may not be facts, they are potential indicators of soon-to-BE discovered hard data.” (It is certainly not surprising that a man such as he has a substantial position downtown.)}
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To help the local creatures “get going” this one god decided that the accordion would stand as metaphor.
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For what a revolutionist knows to be of optimum value, even commonly known data should have been obtained through his own efforts; it is thusly that a neural rebel must, in a sense, re-discover electricity — re-invent the light bulb — re-map the movements of the heavens, and always, by so doing, distinguish aspects never before noted.
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Immediately after he awoke each morning, but before he ever got out of bed, this one chap would write a complete novel.
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{A man with a bow tie can get a pair of glasses, and a man with a tie and glasses can get a suit, and a man with a suit and tie and glasses can get a job in the city, and then he can afford city thoughts and REALLY “be somebody.”}
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As the lad entered into the family business the very first thing his father said to him was, “If it’s not attractive, don’t even CALL IT, ‘merchandise’.”
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{To try, in retrospect, to impose some appearance of order in his life, every January this one guy would compile a list of his One Hundred Favorite Illnesses And Accidents of the previous year.}
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{One guy had t-e-r-r-i-b-l-e ideas, which he turned into simply t-e-r-r-i-b-l-e notes he kept, but — and this is quite an important “but” to notice — but, it should be noted that he kept them in R-E-A-L neat stacks. …(Coincidentally: There was a man who lived just down the street who would often say, “If what little you’ve got don’t amount to much, all the more reason for the little bit to count for even MORE.” …[Certain neighborhoods of the brain will enjoy hearing this more than others.])}
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{Anytime his weight dropped to below three hundred pounds, this one king would drop the song, “Why Not Take All Of Me” from his repertoire.}
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Just as you don’t actually sleep just to sleep, but sleep so that you can be awake later, so too with doing this and thinking more than you have to; you don’t “do it” just to accomplish having “done something” right now, but rather so that you can do MORE later.
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{…and Kyroot gave out with, Quiz Time: When might ordinary change become a revolution? (Possible response): Whenever a revolutionist begins to find it funny.}
…..{…and a viewer writes: “If I may be so bold as to offer a constructive suggestion: I believe that in many instances you would sound more intelligent and cultivated if you would use the word, ‘humorous’ rather than ‘funny.’ Trusting that can prove of some value,” (Signed), “A fellow smart-person.”}
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{Near early autumn, a man thought, “The good thing about habit is that you have a pair of shoes that never wear out.”}
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During an off-the-record interview, one god stated that using pseudonyms was acceptable so long as everyone still knows who you are. …(A man in the back row says that he is “strangely frightened” that if it wasn’t a god saying that in the story that it either wouldn’t make as much sense — or else make a whole lot more. Either way, he says he’s unusually disturbed thereby.)
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The human nervous system fills from the bottom up.
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Once he is up to speed, a real revolutionist doesn’t have any particular set methods for what he does; he just does what he does — (sort of along the, “No Two R’s Approach:” No rules, no rituals.)
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{He told his class, “As some of you have already suspected, those who refer to history to prove their point do not possess an understanding of what they are talking about. Now it’s recess time; go out and play in your own era.”}
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{Near the central city reflecting pool has been a man, who for the last four days, has been demanding to know if those who say that “What goes up must come down” have personally been to both locales.}
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Perhaps the best protection against having to actually be creative is not to be and pretend you that you are.
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{When he read the line, “Not all those buried in the church yard are saints,” this one fellow reflected on the various genetic noises rattling about in his own nervous system and thought, “Hell, all those buried in the church yard ain’t even dead!”}
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One man wanted to tell his off springs; “In the music that is your life, you can’t merely sing the notes, but rather should respond to their shape and concerns which are the song.”
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To lose a game to the city is no sin — to notice it, might be.
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As the noon time crowd ate their sandwiches and mulled about, one of the park philosophers took to the assigned spot and said, “In this life, those who feel ‘powerless’ are either powerless, particularly intelligent, deranged, or else they got off at the wrong bus stop.” …(Someone in the crowd threw a pickle.)
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In one land, as some began to gain an understanding of left-over “primary background noise,” a group came forward with the aim and slogan of, “Grease The Weasels.”
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The potential danger is much greater if you are serious at the time you fall.
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{…And this tip from Kyroot: No matter what life seems to be promising, or how attractive may be the “Introductory Offer”, you’re making a mistake to ever presently agree to, “buy just 3 more during the coming 12 months.” …(Certain important aspects of life’s enterprises depend on people believing that they know what’s coming up.)}
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{One guy’s — (wait a minute, you’re not him are you?!!) —
one guy’s advice to himself, “If it’s to your advantage — do it.”}
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The fact that the collectively hip, in pursuit of the latest fashion, pass for being creative should come as no surprise to some of you who live in that part of the world where the first five thousand ticket holders all get to sit in the seat directly behind home plate. …(As Wild Bill Obnoxious gazed out over the dusty plains and the agitated buffalo, he mused to his faithful companion, Chief Wild Bill Obnoxious II, “You do realize that when enough of the herd all decide to go in the same direction they feel it to be a kind of ‘individuality through companionship’.” …[Due to the conditions under which both of the Wild Bills had been raised, neither wanted to be the first to cast stones or anything else at the near-by, noble and quite large beasts.])
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{In a nearby, more advanced universe than ours, the newspapers, to protect their reputations, each day publish “corrections” in advance. ……(Did I say, “more advanced?”…..What I meant to say was, “non existent.”)}
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One chap who wouldn’t take no for an answer said it didn’t have anything to do with the “no” part. He said he simply didn’t want an answer. …(It was his brother who, whenever he’d have a good idea, would say to his brain — “Quick! — get his name!”)
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One local god decided, “Just to keep things simple I’ll make ’em all think that feeling depressed is normal.”
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{During the recent convention of the Writer’s Guild, one speaker said, “Books are often wiser than their readers.” And a man leapt to his feet in the audience and cried out, “Hell, books are ofttimes wiser than their authors.” (He was seriously beaten by those in his immediate vicinity.)}
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You might think that the only fitting and proper thing to do with a discovery is to announce it; but if you’re a revolutionist you might ought to think again.
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The social arbitrator within one nervous system told some young neural bundles: “Just remember — if you smell bad nobody cares whether you arrive on time or not.” (And, as is so often the case in these quirky little stories, some of the mental-potentials were dismayed by this — others, enthused.)
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{…then Kyroot noted — The Landlord’s Law: If you don’t reminisce you can’t keep your room.}
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One man who says he was first, a student of life, and then of himself, says he now has a simple operating premise: “I trust no one who would trust me.” …(Just between you and me, he later insinuated that this had the greatest value as applied to his own thinking processes.)
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Tradition is a left handed screwdriver in an ambidextrous world.
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{Guy says, “The way I look at it is that way back in my past is everybody.”}
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The indigenous usually seems too plain and obvious to be of any specific value. …(Except of course to a, you-know-what.)
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After many hours of the king and his consuls pouring over the affairs of state and their international relations, as the Prime Minister stood to leave he summarized their collective thinking, “In the Real World, political problems have no conclusive solutions.” And an Undersecretary over by the door, hearing all of this, thought to himself, “Thank god these guys don’t actually know what they’re doing!”
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{One morning, just for a brief instant, the king at the center of a king, deep inside a king thought, “Ordinary people do not have a proper sense of humor.”}
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All control is situation-specific.
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There was once a man who greatly admired the animals, and pondered this attraction. Then one day this idea suddenly struck him, “The mighty cat says, ‘I enjoy so much being the lion that I can think of no alternative’.”
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It’s not how much you know, but whether you actually know anything or not.
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Looking back on his own initial rebellious past, (if not certain literary traditions, dead in the ole verbal eye), one revolutionist mused, “It was the best-of-times, and it was the best-of-times.” …(He later thought, “Hell — it was the super best-of-times!”)
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There was a man standing over by the shadows earlier who you missed seeing, but he left this message, “You can either ‘do something’, or else watch this thing, and dance.”
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