Jan Cox Talk 0991

All Suffering Is Paying for What You Didn’t Buy

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Summary

#991 Jun 29, 1992 – 1:00 
Notes by TK

Kyroot to :33. Life makes men pay for what they didn’t even buy. All suffering is paying for what you didn’t buy. 

To make rowboats want to be yachts, tell them they’re leaky. 

The world’s greatest bluff: humans who threaten suicide, then go thru w/ it. 


The News

All who say, or agree that, “We’re in trouble now,” remain so.

***

Once consciousness is localized its name becomes monotony.

***

In the city, fear may not make you shop, but it can cause you to pay for stuff you didn’t even buy.

***

To be a civilized intellectual is to be an expert-on-the-imaginary.

***

The secondary world is not stupid — but it’s a carrier.

***

Not wanting to give out his name, one man left this message and split, post haste: “City thinking is like an outlet store for real intelligence.”

***

To make tenders want to be yachts, tell them they’re leaky.

…..While his old man was out of the country the prince issued the order for every eleventh word to be shot.

***

…and Kyroot, the old art instructor said: What’s the sense in painting if you don’t have your eye on a corner somewhere!

***

Just after a certain ritual they do, the Official City Intellectual told the mayor and several of his close aides, “When you just don’t know what to think about — reflect on death;
…that’s what a lot of those famous dead guys did.”

*** 

Okay (said Kyroot), a “follow-up” for those who can “get-up”: In the upper left hand corner of the map of another man’s mind was Siberia, and at the bottom, Patagonia; he too could think like everyone else.

…..and a viewer writes: “Something I specifically dislike is when you do ‘follow-ups’ to things you’ve touched on before, but which I didn’t originally hear about. Does this mean anything?”

***

Near the duck statuary in city park a man began addressing the strollers and sitters: “Forget philosophical speculations! — it’s ‘bad design’ that keeps man from discovering himself!”

***

As a time-saving (if not eye-opening maneuver), one guy, instead of “walking a mile in another guy’s shoes” decided to just “take a couple of steps on his feet.” …(And Kyroot noted: The ordinary always believe that they hurt in some “special place” — unique to them — which is about the only way they can feel “special.” …[One of Kyroot’s corns (which didn’t let any fescue grow under it) said: “Yes, I can dig it, I can dig it, but I don’t like it.”])

***

One mind’s question-for-the-day: “If secondary man didn’t talk about himself — how’d he know who he was?!”

…..then Kyroot kinda offered up this kinda response-of-sorts: Primary men wouldn’t talk about themselves because they can’t; secondary men talk about themselves because they must; and then…and then we have the case of the neural explorer. — Next question?!

***

In an attempt to fablize his own existence, one man began to think of his mind as “A mighty Andalusian bull — trapped in the jockey-shorts of a priest.”

***

Another uncommon thing about the revolution is that if its contemporaries could catch up to it, it wouldn’t be the revolution, and, if it slowed down enough for them to grab it, it wouldn’t be either.

*** 

After several days of related nudges and hints, one ole rebel man told his kid face-on, “Smirking at the way someone else looks is still a form of criticism and irony, and totally unworthy of an active mind.” …(At first the lad was particularly struck with his father’s inclusion of the word ‘irony’ in his comment until he realized that all manifestations of sarcasm, hostility and whining are morbifically thereon based.)

***

After some study of his own intellectual line-up and pennant strategy, one manager concluded: “The danger of having second string players around is that you’ll finally use ’em.”

***

Two local asteroids were playing an inter-belt quiz game, and one of them asked the other: “What is the world’s greatest bluff?” And since the second one didn’t know, he answered it for him: “A human who threatens suicide and then does it!” (They both laughed up a storm.)

***

One man now refuses to eat egg salad since he found out it was made with just eggs and mayonnaise, and that mayonnaise was made with eggs; he says that somehow the whole affair is an affront to his intellectual sense of balance, and fair play.

***

During a passing bout of laryngitis one of the regular park speakers instead, handed out cards with this message: “Being bewitched by the behavior and looks of other humans is to be an unpayed, slave scribe of history, and other low-rent enterprises.” …(One day this one king thought [with some concern]: “I can understand my ‘naughty-parts’ being attracted to a commoner, but what-in-the-hell is going on with my mind being so?!!”)

***

In the secondary world the medicine often seems as bad as the malady, which is not surprising given that they have a common origin.

***  

One day while he was off for a private week-end fling, the Royal Philosopher and De Facto Hierophant sat on the beach and thought: “Any time a god says that you’re ‘too late’ for whatever it was you were asking for what it really means is that he’s reached the point where he doesn’t know what to do.” (This came as such welcome, and intriguing news that the regal one popped another cold-one, and decided that he might even use it himself — on himself, no less!)

***

The revolutionist is the ultimate, eternal minority.

***

A man writes to the Advice Doctor: “Dear Doctor: Why is it so difficult to try and ‘think deeply’ about life without becoming melancholy?” That’s easy sir; it’s because you don’t know how to do it correctly.

***

And another gent writes to the Advice Doctor: “Dear Doctor: Should the exceptionally dumb be taxed half as much, or twice as much? This strikes me as an area of great potential metaphysical confusion.” (And the Doctor declined to comment.)

***

During a recent newspaper strike the mayor’s — “unusual” — brother climbed out on a ledge on the Finance Building and shouted to the people below: “Hear and harken to me, oh ye who are and who constitute the civilized: The momentum of the mob, being balanced by the inertia of the crowd, keeps you all right-where-you-are.” — (And, by George, that’s right where they were all right. …[Hey — somebody call the Fire Marshall, or some body!])

***

Then, for his part of the talent show, wearing a tattered beret and frock coat, Kyroot assumed a fake accent, and pretending to be a “Visiting scholar” said, “Since zee past ees behind us, I weel let my bum make zee noises appropriate to things done and gone.”

***

…and Kyroot gave the diagnosis: As soon as they’re born many people feel “let down.” …then Kyroot offered the treatment: Hey! — that’s life — Welcome aboard.

*** 

And a rather blunt gentleman writes the show: “I’ll tell you why this ‘neural-revolution-thing’ of yours is not, has never been, and will never be, more popular: because if what I think you’re saying is correct, and everyone realized it, life would fall apart. Cordially Yours,” etc.

***

“All right, couples,” said the ballroom instructor, “Remember, in your dance routines it’s either a matter of behavior, or of hormones.”

***

One rebellious royal reporter made this observation: “There are two distinct possibilities regarding a king who will ‘share the stage’: One is that he is a king whose robe-is-becoming-unraveled; and the other is that underneath his kingly appearance he may actually be a king!”

***

And a man standing behind a flaming tree said: “The stupid are always touchy about it.” …(One chap stated: “I can trace my ancestors back ten generations.” And another countered, “Child’s play! — I can trace mine back to a single cell organism! — and it’s still alive! — right here in my mind.”)

***

Kyroot’s Brief — Though Unsolicitedly Accurate — History Of Love: Lust, with man, cannot conspire until it learns to speak.

…..Related, Lit. Update: There is no history of any famous poets who did not write something. …(Related maxim for the potentially-executed: By my own lack-of-words have I escaped the hangman’s noose.

***

…and Kyroot noted: City morals are an attempt to make the primary glad it zipped its fly.

***

Trying to think on your own-two-feet is always its own dis-reward. …(One early day in May, McNally inquired of Mr. Rand: “Does that rub up on the reason so many of man’s grand myths involve the notion of a journey? — the need to actually travel — to move away from where ever you now stand?!” …[“Yes, yes,” agreed the map lover, nodding his head, “it’s all so simple when you think about it — except when you think — right here, you muck it all up.”]

***

In the mind of the rebel the choice is between variety and monotony; in that of the ordinary, between monotony and insanity.

***

Through the miracle of modern, micro-surgery, one man had a tattoo put on the inside of his own eyelid which said, “Give a blind man a hint with a two by four.” …(In that verbal manner so indicative of the mystically inclined he says, “It works for me.”)

***

One ole man told the kid as they tandem rode their new motorcycle: “It is as difficult to ordinarily think without being critical of others as it is to sail without going against the wind, or pushing on the waves. The freedom-feature of the revolution in this regard is that it has a destination not dependent on the mechanical laws of movement.”

***

The Whisper Man’s notation for Monday: “Men who are angry at themselves deserve the enemies that they have.”

***

Then, just for fun, that “make believe doctor of the psychological arts,” Kyroot, addressed the convention thusly: “The ‘delicate balance’ of man’s psyche ain’t delicate worth a damn!” …(It was erroneously reported in the next day’s paper that he “Brought the house down,” but they had confused him with some long haired guy appearing at another venue.)

***

Yet another instructor, apparently uninterested in tenure, gave his class this terse, unexpected definition: “Religion: The politics of the timid.”

***

News Flash Update: Within two hours of them getting the mayor’s brother off the ledge and back inside the building, he was once again out there and yelling to the crowd below: “You’re all old! — or damn close to it!!”

***

One man decided to tear down his old mental shed and re-build it nearer to the house.

…..Corollary: Kings won’t live in shacks. Corollary corrected: Yes they will! — but then they’re just monarchs of the mundane, barons of the banal.

***

Intellectually speaking: A man concerned with the local economy will always be broke.

***

Overnight delivery brings this letter in to the program: “Dear Sirs: I am a local business man (entrepreneur, if you will), and on your last show you had a line I would like to use as a slogan for my next commercial venture. Enclosed you will find a post-dated check for twenty-five dollars, endorsement of which will constitute your agreement for my use of said line at this price. The line I wish to use for my next new business is the one that went: ‘Lo, have the gods of cliches mightily thrown-up on our household.’; I do not know what my next new venture will be — but that’s all right; I don’t have any idea what the line means. Mutually Yours,” etc.

***

One of the speakers in city park declared, “I am not one speaker — but two!”

***

…then Kyroot said: Since history feels it has not gotten the best press possible in these programs, we shall now let it give it’s own latest thought, or view, or speculation (Okay, take it away there history): “The neural revolution is like the supreme, personal self-mutation.” …(And Kyroot noted: History seemed relatively pleased later, with its appearance and comment here this evening, although it admitted it didn’t know whether what it’d said about the revolution was actually possible or not.)

***

It is inevitable that the civilized anthropomorphize in that part of the secondary’s job is to ascribe more to the primary than is there.

***

“Hey,” — said Kyroot (himself falling into the trap of beginning a sentence with, “Hey”), “Hey! — anything taken seriously has the potential to become frightening.” …(I sure hope the Hey Man doesn’t get wind of this.)

***

Between an incendiary mother-&-kid pair passed this comment (the former to the latter): “One way to live life a’fresh is to write your autobiography as slowly as possible.”

***

Bit of dialogue taken from the act of that popular comedy team, “Ole What’s-His-Name & You-Know-Who”: “It’s hard to be sad and not talk.” “Another good reason not to be sad.” “You know, I started to say, ‘angry’ instead of ‘sad’.” “Same result.” “How about, ‘offended’?” “Same.” “Frightened?” “Same.” “Any need for me to continue with this?” “If you’re a fool.”
…(They are available for christenings, bar mitz vahs, and other internal explosions.)

***

A man who can hide-in-his-own-bushes deserves a back yard.

***

Along with every order, the man at the drive-through window was telling customers: “Within two weeks men can adapt to any thing; (though being dead can sometimes take up to a month.)”

***

Those who’ve never even been near the palace love to sneer at how tacky they’re sure it must be inside.

***

Amidst the frenzied activity in the Left Lobal Front Room the mental maitre d’ announced: “Let those overheated be the first seated.” …(But some of the younger synapses shouted out, “We don’t want to sit down!”)

***

Then Kyroot sang, “The Wonder Of The Intellect”:
That man’s mind being
Potato soup,
Tubers therein
Disturb him still.

…..then on next Thursday’s episode we’ll hear the mayor’s invisible twin brother say, “The only reason people are scared of the bus terminal is because when they first invented the concept they made it frightening.”

***

In the celebratory song book especially commissioned for the formal opening of the Kingdom’s new “Church Of The Secondary,” for some unaccountable reason the printer made an error which had the official inaugural anthem entitled: “Rejoice Ye, In Your Underwear.” …(His Grace later said that, “Heads would roll!”…If primary gremlins had them…and if they could be caught!)

***

Life is the only dance team with ten billion feet.

***

The crowd’s weapon — The crowd.

***

Just off the sidewalk, just inside the lobby of this one building was a small sign that read, “Only The Dumb Are Suspicious.” …(Several times a day someone will stop and ask, “where can they sign up?”.)

***

The ole man told the kid: “A beast with a name has two sets of horns.” …(After the lad had allegorically chewed on this for a while, he wondered if an “angel with a name” would either have a double set of wings, or better yet — be non-existent — the better to befriend.)

***

…and Kyroot served up another cool, fresh, sugar-cone of: “More Historical Quotes Corrected, Refurbished And Played In The Key Of Heath Bar Crunch”: “We have met the enemy and they were not home.”

***

As he ran in from the fields, onto and across the stage, he continued to cry and scream out, “The voices and fears of doom and gloom are every where! — They are above us, below us, all around us and our loved ones; they are in our pockets, in our hair, they are controlling our governments and institutions; they are indeed — every where, and I say — to bloody hell with them!” (Then he wrapped a towel around his neck and sat down to cool off.)

***

Whenever this one man’s mind would get on a really good roll he’d finally tell it, “Let me off uptown.”

Then Kyroot (acting as ad hoc spokesperson for his own interests) said: All kingdoms have their religion, and all peoples have their dead prophet, and all secondary worlds have their civilization, dry scalps, and dust bunnies.

***

“As far as memory goes,” says one chap, “anything that ever happened to you is not worth remembering. I trust this will usefully narrow it down for you.”

***

And for concerned city viewers Kyroot admitted: No one is actually supposed to be a neural revolutionist any more than the old are supposed to be young.

***

Taking a woodified, chipmunk break, one fiery kid thought (as he tossed the bird seed — which was their favorite [of course]: “There’s a fine line between being creative and being sane,” (toss, toss) “but not fine enough — me thinks — to want to live there.” (toss, toss).

***

Standing on a bench in the city’s main promenade a chap cried out these words: “The power of fate and destiny is such that their invisibility is their proof.” …(Corollary-of-sorts: Weak kings wear bulky robes.)

***

One man’s most memorable quote: “If reality doesn’t have a budget why should I have to scrimp?!”

***

A man’s behavior will plague him only as long as he acknowledges it. …(And a proper, civilized area responds, “But he’s supposed to.” — Yes, I know.)

***

An old sarge at a rebel camp told some younger troops: “The most important of a revolutionist’s ‘private parts’ is his mind; and he would no more share it with the crowd than he would his sexual parts at an orgy of lepers.”

***

Whenever his creatures would try to speak to him directly this one god’s most frequent response was, “Don’t get personal.”

***

There are many things that make a man human, and just as many that keep him so; and it was from this position that he began to dream of a grain of sand somewhere, painted red.

***

For some unknown reason a certain fierce warrior, one day in his later years, rolled over on his back, and staring intently at the apex of his tent said aloud, “My mind is like a monastery, and my lusty-parts with the lord, but my stomach! — But my stomach, by god, is still all mine!” …(” ‘Tis good,” mused one local reality, “that not all children know all the stories about their elders.”)

***

Those not evolving them self tend to fret over the destruction of their not-self; in times past they were the apocalyptically religious, now they are environmentalists; but it’s all the same.

***

Just for his own use this one man fully decided that, “All complaints suck.” …(And after that he told himself, “That must be why it’s good to be king; you don’t have to just whine anymore, but can get things done.”)

***

Neglect is one of the city’s formidable poisons, and one of the rebel’s choice health foods.

***

At the city Finishing-School-For-Intellectuals the graduates are given this final advice: “When in doubt — look serious; and when in serious doubt — look troubled.”

***

Though not faithful to the words: There is a great silence that falls on the mind of the revolutionist.

***

A correspondent corresponds: “I used to think I might really be interested in this neural revolution thing, but now I think I may just have a tumor.”

***

Intellectual variety arrives via discomfort, and sticks around at the expense of sobriety.

***

A man writes: “I don’t want to know any secrets that will cause blisters.”

***

Very near naked is the rebel’s mind.