Jan Cox Talk 0986

To Have Any Talent Is to Be Out of Step–That’s the Purpose of Talent

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Summary = See below
Condensed News Items = See below
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Summary

#986 Jun 17 1992 – 1:30 
Notes by TK

Kyroot to :29. There is a rhythm to sight, as though light is playing a drum on the eyes. Man is primarily driven by sight. 

Everybody accepts death, thinks about death. Only those accepting of pseudo intelligence think about it. The Neural Revolutionist cannot accept death. 

To have any talent is to be out-of-step. That is the purpose of talent. 

Additional audio-only comments to :30.


The News

Instead of introducing himself whenever he’d meet new people this one guy’d say, “How dumb are you?”

***

Any artist who was an “artist yesterday” is a dead artist.

***

…and Kyroot noted: One of the generally uncredited benefits of criticism is that it encourages whining.

***

There is a rhythm to sight, as though light plays a drum on the eyes.

***

Rats take no prisoners; rats can’t take any prisoners; that’s what happens when you’re super-ugly.

***

Instead of a Big Bang, this one universe was begun with the words, “Hey!, What Do The Serious Know!”

***

Only those acceptant of death think about it.
…and Kyroot said: Since it’s your birthday I won’t note how this might apply to pseudo-intelligence.

***

One local civilized man says he will not have any fun until he knows everything is arranged correctly, and that it’s all right for him TO have fun. (Neighborhood reality says it’s real, real proud of him, too.)

***

People now-a-days will reveal almost any thing about themself… except for one little item.

***

Peaks & valleys in the primary world are real; in the secondary they’re charts & graphs. …(The mind is made to measure. The secondary world, to give man something TO measure.)

…..Momentarily-delayed-corollary: City buses run on their own fumes.

***

In the hallway outside the main meeting room a chap said, “Religion, just like drinking, is a young man’s game.” And a bellhop asked, “But how about the old?” And the man fingered his ear and replied, “Well-l-l-l, maybe the real old, but it’d still been better if you’d a’let my original comment be!” …(An experienced traveler told his younger companion: “Hanging around hotels and other places of transient repose may not get you shot, but forty days of room service can make a man forget why he left home in the first place.)

***

The literary devices are as prostheses for imagined deficiencies in an invented world.

***

In the Free-Talk-Zone in the city park a speaker loudly proclaimed to the crowd: “A man who has drugs for breakfast has little concern for the mid-day meal.” And someone shouted back, “But what does it mean?” “Try it and see!”, he replied.

***

One ole rebel said to the kid, “Life really ain’t worth thinking about unless you think about it in this one kinda way.”
…(Of course, [added Kyroot], this is exactly why everyone DOES so ordinarily.)

…..”As long,” realized life, “as you can make men dream of sailing to Malaysia, then you can send them there with no problem.” …(The talents of the mind put rudders and sextants to shame.)

***

One of the subjects pointed this out: “If the king doesn’t ever hurt you how’ll you know who’s in charge?!”

…..and Kyroot continued: In another land a certain rebellious sort, after getting a good gander at how the local ruler operated, said: “Me being a subject here is sure subject to change.”

***

…and Kyroot noted: Some with talent leave town; ALL want to. …(A man asks: “Is that the purpose of talent?”)

***

Another “Covert Conversation Showing How Life Works Just As Well In Secret As It Does In Public:” “The badge of the imprudent is their useless impatience.” “And?….” “Well, that along with their badge that says, ‘Hi — I’m Imprudent.'”

***

The Hey Man says, “Hey! The mere existence of march music is life’s admission that many’s the man who starts off on the wrong foot. Hey!, and hup, two, three, four, hup, two, three, four.” …(“Of course, on a more serious note,” notes the tour guide, “there are theories suggesting that there are no wrong feet — but, hey!, why listen to me — I’m just a salaried employee.” …[Then with a cautionary countenance, The Hey Man reminds us that the public use of the exclamation, “Hey!” at the beginning, end or middle of spoken sentences may be protected by local copyright laws. …(“Hey!,” says he, “better safe than you-know-what-hey.”)])

***

…and Kyroot offered this: Uncivilized, guilt-producing behavior is the intellect sweating.

…..only two reasonable creatures dislike a treadmill: The feet and the head.

***

The mayor of one city proclaimed, “We shall have no more interviews with those who will not talk about themself.” And his assistant said, “But we have never had any before.” “Ah!,” smiled his honor proudly, “and, nor shall we again.”

***

…and Kyroot mentioned another of the Behooves Of City Life: Intellectuals never get-any-where intellectually.
…(A kid with a stick thought, “Sure! — why would a perfectly healthy suicide want to take its own life?!”)

***

Pissed, many turn to wine, or explode in anger. Those pissed and with literary pretensions tend to become righteous and sing of their welcome of death. …(A man picking up cans near the Ole Sorehead’s Bar says, “Even if at first life didn’t have a sense of humor, it sure had to develop one fast once the Age Of Metaphysical Poetry began.”)

***

According to the creation myth in this one universe the gods made cats so there’d be someone to learn cat tricks, and dogs wouldn’t have to do double duty.

***

One guy squealed, “Uuuh! — I wanna be captured and tortured!” (Then his self reminded him, “It’s too late.”)

…..And a man who apparently lives somewhere else on this planet sends us a letter in which he says he finds trying to do this “neural revolution thing” like yodeling with your pants down.

***

Over gruel an ole man told his kid, “That’s right, boy, many, many years ago men invented the concept of fables because they found it much easier to talk about lambs and lions than they did about themselves.” …(The lad sat on a match and said, “Things ain’t changed much.”)

***

Those impressed by group responses might cheer on a volcano.
…(To a planet the individual creature means nothing; to one growing, everything.)

***

Civilized existence was grilling a young critic thusly, “What is the one attribute absolutely necessary for an artist to be successful in the city?” And the lad replied, “Talent?” “Certainly not! — predictability!!”

…..a gentleman taking all of this in muses, “This conjures up a most intriguing collateral question: If predictability IS the key to success in art, then how are we to judge accomplishment in the intellect?”

***

Raising himself to his full height whilst standing in his stirrups, the young prince declared, “Long have I played the fool, and well — (perhaps, TOO) — have I succeeded.”
…(Subjects and foot soldiers L-O-V-E an honest ruler;
…[about the same as a fifty mile march on their knees].)
…(“God!,” muttered the Chief of the Kitchen Police, “I trust that no one — even in their wildest wet-dreams — might imagine for a moment that this could be addressed to the logistics of how their own intellectual army might be fed, quartered and exercised.”)

…..Nursery quiz: In the land of fable what IS the difference between fact & fiction, true & false?

***

A man climbed atop the statue in front of the main university entrance and declared, “The dead can’t lie, nor tell the truth, which accounts for their continued popularity.”

***

A chap standing at Track Twelve in the bus terminal told some waiting passengers, “As breath, blood, pain, and naughty-parts are the telegraph lines of the primary world, so too, and will-be, words, the communications system of modern times.” A man with a valise asked, “And when do modern times begin?” And received the reply, “Just as soon as you, or one of your hoary ancestors ASK about it.”

…..In the fashion world, that is the city, those who think they’re up-to-date, are. …(At least for a moment.)

***

After supper, (during an informal spitting contest), a rebel sarge said to some young recruits, “Another difference ‘tween us and them is that while a barbed wire fence can’t string itself, a revolutionist’s mind seems TO birth itself, feed itself, then drive itself away from home.”

***

Looking back over history and then current affairs, one chap addressed humanity in these words, “Jeeze! — can’t you find anything NEW to worry about?!!”

***

When he was going out of town one guy’d send god his keys.
…and Kyroot asked: Could we have a show of mental hands of everyone who’s ever gone out of town?……. …then Kyroot inquired: And how many of you ever returned?……

***

In the past IS no originality.

***

Standing in the middle of a deserted field a man wondered & pondered to himself, “If it weren’t for the notions of governments, gods, and one’s own past, who would men have to BLAME for their so-called problems?!….” (And without actually saying so, he simultaneously realized that the theoretical alternative would be normally unacceptable, and could in fact contribute to producing even more revolutionists.)

…..and a viewer mumbles: “Hey, what IS a neural revolutionist but someone not satisfied with what they think!” …(and Kyroot offers this non-reply, “‘Big deal’ — right sir?!”)

…..then after a bit, Kyroot did have this to say as regards this area: If we wanted to momentarily deal in fables we could say that the neural revolutionist is like a captive tiger, but one seeking release from confines his contemporaries don’t even suspect. In other words, physical rebellion, attacks on zoo employees, or prayers to the old forest gods are NOT part of his m.o.

***

An artist without calluses is a SISSY artist.

***

One man got his inspiration from a book. Another man got his inspiration from the man who got his from a book. And still another man received his inspiration from knowing that there were men who could read and write, even though he couldn’t, and even though he knew none of them. Put all together they constitute “civilization.”

***

While in the rest room in the Judicial Building one man thought, “If being ugly counted for anything, then I’d be confronted with a possibility from two choices: I’d either be ugly, or else I’d count for something.” (He shook it and left.)
…(And just out of ersatz spite an ole rebel commentator said to tell you that anyone who doesn’t get this one still doesn’t appreciate the safety of having limited-horizons compose your infinite-expanses.)

…..after the end of the commercial the DJ came back on and said, “Sticking in this same groovy groove we’ve got a golden, groovy-oldie that works the same side of that funky, sweating street. It is that big number one hit from last time, wherein a viewer writes: ‘Dear Kyroot: What did you do BEFORE you were on television?’ And the groovy ole Mr. K. replied, ‘Before I was on television I was NOT on television.’ WOW!, cats! can you hardly stand it?!!”

…..”Hey!,” said life, disguised as an amusement park ride operator, “If the secondary world didn’t GO ’round, I couldn’t COME around.”

***

…a man writes to the Advice Doctor: “Dear Doctor: How can you tell if something is a joke or not?” Dear Sir: In the city it is quite difficult because if you ask, as the circumstances continue to properly change, so do the responses you receive. …(Although he didn’t say so, the doctor did fleetingly think how it would be with a revolutionist only that you could always be sure. …[Even he didn’t seem to want to pursue the matter beyond that.])

***

Looking down at the creatures in his charge, one local god so directed his assistant: “Among them, let death be known as life and all will go well.”

***

One ole man slapped the kid on the back and said, “Many people keep the books of their secondary life as measured by illness, but kid,” (he said, slapping him again), “I gotta tell you, collecting stamps is cheaper.” …(And a certain city university writes to us: “I am pleased to see that sometimes, [albeit irregularly and far too infrequently], you DO make mention on your program of the serious nature, purpose and demands of modern education, inasmuch, for instance, that it does — and properly so — take almost twice as long in academic preparation and study to become a brain surgeon as it does a philatelist. Thank you for your time and interest, and god’s speed.” etc.)

***

While off on a trip one king heard the dictum, “Those who don’t work don’t eat.”, and wanted to bring it home for his own people, then realized the danger therein inasmuch as his subjects had difficulty recognizing intellectual efforts. …(On an unrelated topic, a man who came to tune up the furnace told his apprentice, “Never give your liver even an unloaded gun — if it knows the way to the ammo shop.”) **Ballistic Moral: Suicide
requires YOUR participation.**

…..Shortly thereafter a Pop Quiz reared its attractive head: Question: What IS the difference between intellectual suicide & revolutionist thinking? Answer: Who said there was any?

***

On the road just outside the city a strolling, seditious sort said, “Those who will admit they’re in any way peeved with the way life runs its affairs are dropping their drawers and bending over to prove they still have that rash on their bum.”

In city park two speakers stood on two separate soap boxes, facing one another across a grassy field, and one declaimed, “By ourselves we ARE undone.” And the other one declaimed back, “Yet by ourselves we ARE ourselves.” And the first one said, “Ahhh, I quit.”

***

If grey matter was canvas all rebels would be artists.

…..and from a viewer, this letter: “You certainly do speak a lot more about nerves, and brains and hormones than you do muscles, and skin and the skeletal system.”

***

The invitations the revolution sent out for the affair stated quite bluntly: “Only minds like unbiased typhoons welcome.”

***

This one man would only add TO his troubles whenever he’d mix up the words, “god” & “cod.” …(Oh, I’ll admit it wasn’t the fish who gave him grief over this.)

***

“Kid,” said the ole man, “if you ARE going to swear at least don’t talk through your nose when you do.”

***

Art, local — can be significant, but still local. (Now on with it): Art, local — originality… well, shall we say, “SOME where otherwise!”

***

“Hey!” shouted the first guy to the man walking towards him, “don’t you see that sign that says, ‘Stop — Keep Out!’?” And the second guy replied, “Okay, which one you want me to do first?” …(Instead of titling this one I’m leaving it to you to file where it will do YOU the most good.)

***

Those promoting someone else’s ideas have at best a little “lip sync” act.

***

City artists must imagine they’re more dangerous than they really are — well SOMEbody’s got to!

***

A young lad who tried to think for himself instead of having a paper route one day sat outside a bank and pondered, “If much of the mysterious and inexplicable in life can be dismissed, if not explained, by applying the diagnostic term, ‘systemic transient anomaly,’ does that mean there are gremlins in the machine or in the schematics?” …(A certain closed-mouthed teller whispered to himself, “It is precisely thinking like this that CAUSES thinking like this.”

***

One day, not far away, the Royal Tutor told the prince, “If thou wilt be routine, you must play the games of the gods. To be revolutionist, you must make your own.”

***

The dense have no need for irony; nor jackals sonatas. Let runners run, and poets write, and those who can comprehend — do so.

***

Examining his official “work desk” one man thought, “A tight drawer is a happy drawer.”

***

The revolutionist doesn’t want to think differently, and for himself, because everyone else is wrong. No, he just wants to do it ’cause he wants to do it.

***

One man has this theory that the gods won’t fuck with anybody crazier than they are.

***

Two guys were riding in a car and the driver threw something out of the window. The passenger motioned for him to stop, then got out and disappeared down the highway, walking back in the direction they’d just passed. After a while he returned with the tossed piece of trash in his hand, and the driver, exasperated from having had to wait said, “Why didn’t you just tell me not to throw stuff out the window in the first place? That would’ve been easier than you making yourself go back and pick it up after I had.” And the passenger replied, “I don’t tell other people what to do, I tell ME what to do.”