Jan Cox Talk 0993

“What If”–One of Man’s Prime Ways of Measuring Time

PREVNEXT

Summary = See below
Condensed News Items = See below
News Item Gallery = jcap 92073 -0993
Transcript = None
Key Words =

Summary

#993 Jul 3, 1992 – 1:12 
Notes by TK

Kyroot to :32. The price of staying alive is whatever you accept it to be: the price of running w/ the mob. Nothing in the Secondary Level World is satisfying after paying the price; thus no one accepts the price or else they would have no basis for complaint, no fuel for whining, 

“What if” is one of man’s prime ways of measuring passage of time.

Audio-only: man dies, genes reminisce; thus are the old nostalgic, and men dream of life after death.

Those who know that history is ahead are alive. 

The sound of Life in the City is speech, in the Neural Revolutionist camp, thought.


The News

There exists a little reflection of the universe; there also exists a reflection of this little reflection; guess where to look?

***

The human mind has this strong inclination to say for man: “There are limits to what we can do,” which creates an interesting context inasmuch as until several million years ago when the intellect came along, the question had never arisen.

***

“We have the perfect relationship,” he said, “we never see each other.” …(Looking down toward the hypothalamic area, several cerebrum cells were chatting and one said, “I sure enjoy when some of those guys from downstairs don’t come to visit.”)

***

Pointing to his own head, he exclaimed, “What good are great thoughts if I have to run ’em through this meat grinder?!”

***

48 hour update: EVERYthing is in mid-flight. …then added: Older, proverb expansion: Those who wait for the other shoe to drop will be amply rewarded. (Moral malignment: Death does not disappoint. …[But Hey! Hey, neither does anything else, when you get down to it.])

***

The cost of staying alive is whatever you accept it to be.

***

One man’s latest theory is that life made the subatomic world just to make us “look bad.”

***

One guy’s back yard was larger than his entire property! Which is only possible if you’re a human — a creature with such abilities as to have more “problems” than you actually have things to have problems about. …(“Hey gang! Let’s hear it for us!! — Yay-y-y yahoos!”)

*** 

The most traveled bridge connecting the primary and secondary worlds is also the most phenomenal, the most beautiful, and the most vital — this bridge is speech.

***

Those compelled to question and debate the quality of life have not the slightest notion of what it’s all about. …(The king gave the hapless subject his choice: “You can either be drawn-&-quartered, then skinned alive, then dipped in shit, or you can become a critic.”)

***

Trying to nonchalantly hide his head under his arm, the man retorted, “Tumor?! What tumor?!”

***

Then some more of Kyroot’s “News From The Revolutionist’s Front”: When the decent, established thoughts in this one man’s mind realized what he was up to, they said: “Is that any way to treat a lady?!” …(Carpet layer’s footnote: The reason that sanity among the sane doesn’t have to defend itself is because it doesn’t have to defend itself.)

***

…and Kyroot noted: Trying to be religious, or cynical, or politically serious is like trying to “hide in a closet” from yourself! …(“Okay,” said life’s local agent, “Let’s just get this straight once and for all: If you live in the city — you LIVE in the city.” …[Of course it IS only children who think you have to go outSIDE to play. …(“Ha ha,” we all laughed, “That’s the great thing about life — the joke’s on all of us.”)])

***

From the dancer’s bulletin board: Life’s right foot is its status quo, and it says it’d appreciate it if you’d stay off it.
…(A tutu repairman takes a glance over this way and says that you look “stagnant and harmless enough.” Hey! He can’t talk about you that way!)

***

In the eternal struggle between a man’s hormones and his mind, the rebel ain’t got no such struggle.

*** 

Just after the rain had let up this afternoon (around two), a man pulled out the soap box in the speaker’s part of city park, climbed aboard, and had this to say to the small crowd around him: “For all the mortal doom-sayers among you, consider this: If the rest of the universe progressed just at the rate we humans do, by now our neighboring planets would have written a book, have their own band, their own ‘one-man-show,’ and be running for office.” …(Even given the high humidity, some left feeling better. …[“Of course,” noted the harbor master, “not all tenders should be encouraged to become yachts, or else who’d do all the needed grunt-work.” (chuckle, chuckle)])

…..and a chap over on the left aisle raises a point-of-order: “But in my life, I do the grunt-type, unskilled labor.” “Yes, yes,” replied the master of ceremonies, “we all do, but not all of us are blessed with such keen metaphorical, evolutionary vision. And now let me reach into our ‘Big-Backward-&-Forward-Prize-Bag,’ and see what nice gift we have for this fine contestant.” …(And as the gent in the audience accepted his useless trinket from the announcer, he thought, “Well, at least he used an adjective when referring to me.” …[“And,” you ask, “And,” you ask, “what was the name of this show?” Well, just look around you! — Huh?! — See?! — Get it?!… Okay, a hint: It has four letters, and it starts with “L” — and it’s not “Lump.”])

***

Originality warms one from the inside out. …and Kyroot expanded: Originality warms one from the inside out — just like a revolutionist wanted.

***

To try and cover himself for all possible contingencies, literal, sartorial, and metaphorical, this one man noted: “Just as ‘clothes make the man,’ so TOO do clothes make the man.”

***

This one god got himself his own personal, pictorial logo — but no one could quite make out what it was, or figure out what it meant.

***

One ole man told the kid, “The alert and the dense have a different sense of time,” and the lad replied, “Hey, tell me later, Pop.” …(Corollary…[maybe]: A revolution that’s on schedule ain’t no revolution.)

*** 

That guy down on the secret-corner in the city suggests: “Nobody around here knows how the secondary world works, that’s why reporting on it’s such a big-time operation.” …(Those who don’t understand how airplanes fly or where they’re going are the ones who like to stand around and speak admiringly of the size and machismo of the engines. …[“I say, old sport,” sputtered the Duke, “a civilized man doesn’t HAVE to know what he’s talking about to speak. …I say, wise up, ole dears before life is all around your ankles.”])

***

One guy says: “I know I’ve written you before, but I don’t think it did much good.”

***

The local cable channel forwards along this note from a subscriber: “I have been watching your show for some time now, and I really don’t like it when you start talking about stuff that makes sense. Sincerely,” etc.

***

And another man on cable writes to us directly: “I am beginning to sometimes agree with what you say; is there something wrong with me?” — Yes, probably.

***

Since it was almost the weekend, one ole man put his arm around the kid and said: “We’re all creative in our own way…
…except those who’re not… …which is most of us.”
…(Dietary footnote: One of the economical aspects of being ordinary is that whenever you hear it spoken of you can take it personally and get upset at no additional cost.)

***

Modern Fairy Tale Alert!: One mama city told her budding and blossoming offspring: “Being fashionable is a quite acceptable alternative to being creative… …or original…
…or rebellious.” …(And they all lived ever after.)

***

Few want to be creative, but some wanna be around one who is. …(“Say! Look here!” said the bouncer, “Everybody can’t dance at once!”)

*** 

The tenor said: “Only those with a concept of fun are capable of not having any.” To which the soprano responded: “Does this mean we’re about to sing of the secondary world at last?” …(Once life in this universe gave man an intellect — the worst was over. …[And a man in back wondered, “The worst for who?” And the answer to that is the answer to: Who IS a revolutionist?])

***

A certain local god had this “fun definition” he used to like to lay on people: “Religion,” (he’d say) “Religion: Slasher movies for adults.”

***

A man writes the Advice Doctor: “Dear Doctor: Sometimes I believe my dog is actually thinking, but when I study his face intently I realize this is certainly not so; I am now afraid to look at myself in the mirror.” And the Doctor sighs: “Another one of those non-question questions.”

***

Right after Friday night chow, one seasoned rebel sergeant told several younger troopers: “Those who construct complex schemes to study man or to metaphysically scrutinize life are like a skinny man who puts on coat-after-coat on top of coat in the attempt to gain weight.

***

Toward evening, as the crowds were clearing out, a man in city park addressed those still about: “Just as money will remove the stain from a slut, so too might real intelligence save a man from being ordinary.” …(And a mounted policeman riding by said — “What’d he say?!!”) Without a sense of secondary balance, you can’t fall.

***

A kid who was here for our last show just went skipping through the studio singing:
“Oh, men’s brains
are like trains,
always looking back!…
…(and wanting to be basketball players.)”

*** 

If time zones were actually sequential, progress would not be possible, and no one could dance. …(The penthouse and the basement are simultaneous phenomena, and the ordinary mind’s inability to fathom this keeps life in the building stirred up enough that the two draw ever closer together even as men continue to debate the issue in the elevator.)

***

Looking around the crowded ballroom, one man told the bartender: “My mind brought me here, but now my hormones tell me to leave.” (Boy! Talk about having your perception screwed on backwards!) …(Those who would never dream of attending a sexual orgy will nonetheless wallow away sixty years in an intellectual pile with strangers.)

…..then Kyroot added: If that last one seemed too vague, try it like this: Any time you’re thinking the thoughts of others you’re screwing strangers — or worse.

***

Those not driven by a hunger for their own originality are otherwise themselves being chauffeured around. …(Yeah, but at least you don’t have to tip life — Right-t-t?!!)

***

A man who saw our last taping sent us this overnight telegram: “Something said on your previous program disturbs me greatly: What if I did undertake to pursue this ‘neural revolution thing,’ and then did get a tumor — what would I do then?!” …(Somehow I always enjoy the ordinary mind’s sense-of sequential chronology; …[Also the freewheeling use of the term “What If”; …(“Hey, Bubba, does that clock say three-fifteen or what-if?”)])

***

Subtracting you from the rest of reality is valid mental math, but do note: Even after this is done there’s still-l-l a whole lot of stuff left; and one of the fancy tricks is to always remember this.

***

As he changed shoes one man told the fellow next to him: “One of the real pleasures of reading the great thoughts of other men is that while you’re doing so it’s almost as though you were having the thoughts yourself.” Tying up the final knot he suddenly cocked his head and mused, “I guess that also accounts for many’s love of fiction.”

***

A certain hobo’s latest take on the matter: “The secondary world is like a rancid stew that no one will touch until it’s stirred up real good.”

***

Then Kyroot, wielding some fake credentials as an “Efficiency Expert,” addressed the meeting of hairy-and-distaff Cub Rebel Scouts, and told them: “The time spent smirking at others could actually be used for something worthwhile.”

***

Once upon a time in a universe far, far away, a god made himself some creatures who he couldn’t “put anything over on,” and soon after thought — “What tha fuck have I done?!!”
…(In subsequent legends he’s become known as the “Great Spirit Of Internal Self-Hindrance.” …[Or as “street smarts” in some cities might say: “Around here, a man who ‘knows everything’ don’t know nothin’!”])

…..and a fellow notes: “The nice thing about myths and legends is that they’re meaningless! …(Ah yes! Give me history and bus schedules every time.)”

***

To keep everything on course, and the harbor safe, one reality decided: “Let the tenders have freedom-of-movement, but keep their minds leaky and tied to the dock.” …(Sailing sidebar: Those who rail at religion and government as being useless, should their cries be heeded, would be the first to be aghast when the primary once again opened its fly and headed toward them.)

***

Then another man writes to the Advice Doctor: “Dear Doctor: If I did ever try to take up this ‘neural revolution thing,’ and think along such lines, how could I then ever be popular and famous?” …(The Doctor asked his secretary to send this one on directly to Kyroot — [if not the postal authorities].)

***

The belief that everyone should be productive-in and profitable-to the secondary world is most passionately promoted by those who doubt that they are.

*** 

Just around the corner from the Old Cynic’s Coffee Shop, as he was shaking out his umbrella, a chap said: “I have a cousin whose sense of intelligence seems to consist solely of feeling superior to others.” …(“Well, hey gang — I don’t guess we have to ask what his name is!”)

***

In the ballroom, while the band was on break, the orchestra leader told a couple of kids hanging around the stage: “Around here, rhythm is everything — whether you have a sense of rhythm or not.” …(Later one of the boys said to the other, “I guess he could have meant ‘timing’?-!”) Fox-trot Moral: Life runs the clock — men count the hours.

***

Adage update alert! Watch your heads! Update alert: A house divided against itself has a name: Its name is Man.
…(Or — as the primary said to the secondary: “I trust you won’t take this seriously…”)

***

In the middle of a remodeling and cleanup effort this one reality, just kiddingly, threatened to “get rid of all the creatures,” and many scientists, priests, philosophers, and environmentalists quite seriously exclaimed — “We told you so!”

***

While waiting for his thighs to dry, one man wrote this note on a scrap of paper and pushed it through the little window to the cashier. (It said): “So long as you see the world of the intellect as a trap — you’re right! There is no way out.”
…(In return, she handed him back forty-eight cents in change.)

***

One man mused: “I just bet it’s the variety and creativity of life itself that drives rebels mad.”

***

Miss Etiquette received the following inquiry:
“Dear Miss E: My mind is beginning to feel like overstretched noodles; can you help?” And Miss Etiquette replies: “I’ll have to have more information: Did they come this way, or did you do it to ’em?”

*** 

One god, in an attempt to help simplify matters, and to help stamp out those who want certain things stamped out, changed his name from “God” to “Call Your Mama.”

***

First guy says: “Wow! What if we could hear other people think!” And second guy says: “‘Wow,’ hell! Listenin’ to them talk ain’t enough?!!” …(One man used to eavesdrop on himself
…until he discovered the schedule for upcoming programs and spoiled the whole thing. …[Before they could throw him down and get him properly restrained, he screamed out at them, “Damn you! NO one’s gonna make ME ‘know myself’ and ruin it for the next generation.” …(Then by special request the band played:
“Older legs,
Younger feet;
Such a mix,
Can’t be beat.”
— [which is true enough, if you’re satisfied just to dance-in-place..])])

***

Those of the secondary world say that a pill that tastes good’s not really a pill! Hey, people know what they’re doing!

***

Man dies — genes reminisce. …(It is thus that the old are nostalgic, and men dream of life after death.)

…..Those who know that history is up ahead — are alive.

***

Just as many in the city-world will embrace a tyrant and damn near all, tolerate him, so too in neural lands will a king, once crowned, settle for ruling the simple and senseless.
…(The little naked kid running alongside the parade told his trailing dog, “I fear that routine, upper-brain-stem royalty are just as lazy as the rest of us.” …[“Arf, arf,” barked his happy pal, ’cause what the hell did he care!])

***

As unknown comets from space, so come man’s thoughts to his mind; but once they’re named we all feel much better.

***

In the city the sound of speech is the sound of life; in rebel camp, the sound of thought.

***

And then yet another man writes to the ole Advice Doctor: “Dear Doc: If this ‘neural revolution thing’ were a woman would it be that we should ‘woo’ her — or, just hit her in the head and drag her off?”

***

As the young are embarrassing, the original discomfort sanity and certainty. …(The reality of one city said: “We do not mind the new, so long as it is not too new — so long as it is not overly new — drastically new — dangerously new! So long as it is not hardly new at all.”)

***

The systems in man that feel and the ones that think one day got together and decided to discuss the matter of the “primary and secondary worlds” — (but one of them didn’t know what the other one was talking about.) …A bird chirped to a limb, “Don’t you just love life!” and received the reply, “As opposed to what?”

***

When one man saw a weight loss clinic being built next to a church he thought: “Gee! Which is the cutest? Paying someone to help you ‘not-eat’ or paying someone as helpless and dumb as you are to help you pray for help from ‘they-don’t-know-where-either’?!”

***

Everybody in this one guy’s neighborhood was just like him; and he was normal, he was sane, he was bland, he was ambitious, he was boring, he was fashionable, he was imitative, he was aggressive, and he was frightened; he was “everybody” — everybody and himself — (and extremely mistrustful of any originality or freedom).

***

From the ballroom’s balcony, as he gazed down on the waltzers and two-steppers below, he mused, “The revolution is like the samba of the mind.”

*** 

The ability to stare hypnotically at the secondary horizon has kept many a man alive and motivated. …(“Daddy, Daddy,” squealed the little nipper, “I want to go over there!” “But there’s nothing OVER there, Sweetums.” “I know, Daddy, Daddy — that’s why I want to GO!”)

…..and Kyroot noted: One of the fascinating tricks of life’s painting of the backdrops for man’s movies is that it can do a Garden Of Eden after-the-fact and make it seem to simultaneously appear behind the opening credits AND in scenes to come.
…(It’s all akin to shooting a man in the stomach and making him grab his ass as he shouts, “We better get outa here before somebody gets shot.”)

***

Only the original can regain their virginity; only the creative are safe from rape.

***

Over in this one reality local life noted: “Given the reaction and consequences of that last little ‘revolution’ I believe I’ll just put all that kinda stuff on temporary-hold.”
…(And from somewhere came what sounded like a gigantic sigh of relief.)

***

Whatever his circumstances, a rebel’s indispensable luxury is the revolution.

***

From our viewing audience comes another letter: “Sometimes while watching your show I think, ‘I should feel better,’ and sometimes I even try to feel better, but every time I do these other parts of my system say, ‘Hey! No-o-o way!'” (Thus again does life force man himself to be an example of the extraordinary complexity and difficulty of attempting to make some sort of evolutionary progress individually.

***

One guy kinda grabbed at his forehead and snorted, “Jeeze! Just think, if I’m just partially right about what this revolution thing is, I’m already partially done for!”

***

After being exposed-to and playing-with revolutionist ideas for a while, one lad gleefully mused: “If my mind was my sister, I’da been arrested by now.”