Jan Cox Talk 1525

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The News

1525 95130 12/11/95 Copyright J. M. Cox 1995


There was once a unity,
but, being nothing but its own wholeness, had no conception of itself.

It eventually began to divide,
then some of its parts could be aware of other of its parts,
and although it was no longer what it had originally been,
it then had some conception of itself.

It now wants to regain some form of unity, and become “god-knows-what.”


From one view:
not only is there no “rhyme or reason to life,”
but only those devoid of sound reason find such curious.

– – –

There is a legend that tells of one faraway reality wherein
life once got it in for the neural creatures there,
and to get his revenge, he inflicted upon them some conditions &
…”Oh my god! — how could anyone be so cruel!”

– – –

There were once some beings who you could poison —
but not in the usual sense that you think of as “poisoning them,”
since they always cooperated in taking the noxious brew.

And some humans immediately contacted the program to complain:
“How dare you hold someone responsible for what they do when
they do not want to be so held…or at any other time…whichever comes
…But see, there’s the thing: with the ordinary it never comes first…
or at all.


There was once a ship that sailed all the many seas —
and, through those treacherous,
would apparently never have survived
had not been for the wisdom and direction of the captain.

But there is another level of reality in this story
wherein the same ship plows the same seas with the same success
but with no captain.
Whereat the first version of the story is required,
there does it appear
to comfort all aboard — but primarily to reassure the captain.

There was once a building whose upstairs tenants
felt superior to those below
due to the repetitive nature of their lives.


While waiting in his car at a traffic light one day, one man thought:
“If it weren’t for what happens in life, what would I have to think about?
…or if it weren’t for what happens in my head,
what would I have to think about?…
humm…gives you something to think about!”


A certain chap who’d been an armchair student of affairs such as this
one day laid down the book in his hands, gazed straight ahead, and
pondered: “The reason that the mystical quest is never more popular than
it is is simply because it doesn’t exist and ordinary men recognize the
…He stared a moment or so more, then returned to his reading about such


Men of war love to quote the dictum “divide and conquer”
due to its simplistic usefulness.

If man’s mind had a belligerent force seeking to overcome it,
such an enemy could take no better action than to fragment the mind —
which (curiously enough) is its present condition.

What d’ya think?…
is there something out there actually threatening the integrity of the
mind?…are you certain there is or ever has been such a state?

If there is a natural unity and stability to the mind,
then why cannot a man select a word (“unity” let’s say)
and hold it constantly in mind for (let’s say) the next 90 minutes?

The mind is a singularly talented instrument of observation —
except in one area.


One day, while shaving his bike, a guy mused to himself:
“Why do men speak of physically ‘living in the fast lane’ and
‘burning the candle at both ends,’
but never make such note regarding their mental life?”
And, as he lathered up the spokes, thought:
“Guess they never see the need to.”

There was once an ancient oak tree who,
after decades of witnessing the many non-flora activities around it,
said to itself:
“If it weren’t so funny, it’d really be funny.”

One father told his son as the youngster headed off to explore new planets:
“Never stay on a world in whose dictionary are any entries between the
words ‘meaningful’ and ‘pitiful.'”


One sign of the routinely civilized and the ordinary-minded is that
they give most credit for man’s progress to the presence of
his so-called “human emotions,”
and from a casual, effortless view this seems justified & appropriate,
but it will not stand more careful scrutiny.

There were once some birds who had miraculous head feathers
which gave them powers unique in the avian world,
but, for some reason
(perhaps because of the feathers’ location above their field of vision),
the birds never recognized the feathers as the source of their singularity.

There was once a building whose upstairs tenants
dismissed those below because of the repetitive lives they lived.


Natural: Effortless

Mystical: (I don’t wanna go into it.)


If you accept the sensation inherent and natural to thinking man —
that everything one fears
and everything one desires
all exist outside of man —
you will remain the ever-unsatisfied captive thereof,
and will, moreover,
miss any chance of seeing how and where
you’ve been inseparably woven into the total fabric of life.

There was once a knight who could never slay his dragon,
nor win his maiden,
due to his inability to correctly judge distance and depth.


One man gave his life a nickname: “It’s Always Somethin’!”
…Which he thought rather apt and charming…
though his mind never seemed to get it.


A certain man, who’d been on The Quest with success sufficient that he
understood more now than he did when he began,
began to have serious doubts regarding the use of the term “enlightenment”
to describe the aim of such efforts in that
the dark, even when illuminated, remains the dark.


There was once a little boy who could only count to one,
then as he grew, could count to two,
and after becoming educated and sophisticated, could count even higher;
in fact there seemed to be no limit to it.

He had a friend who traveled the same course,
but who refused to stop where everyone else did,
at the point of no limit.

It is impossible to explain to the ass of the last horse on the carrousel
the structure of circular carnival rides.

…But some (when they hear the music played)
know that John Philip Sousa would be turning around in his grave
were it not for the fact that in realities of even-numbered dimensions
all burials seem to be laid out in one way streets.

To those on The Quest,
“brain dead” is not death — its unbridled activity is.


The Beautiful And Just Convolution

Those who picture a supernatural force extrinsic to man
and who anthropomorphize it as a “god,”
and in so doing consider themselves being religious,
actually commit blasphemy in the sense of misnaming that which they
seek to describe.


Anything the mind can think of can be thought of as metaphorical
and, beyond that,
anything the mind can think of as metaphorical can be thought of as literal.

Two types of men will never comprehend this:
the literal-minded, and the metaphorically so.


A certain man, who’d been on The Quest with success sufficient that he
understood more now than he did when he began,
began to have serious doubts regarding the use of the term “awakening”
to describe the aim of such efforts in that
beds, even when shook from sleep, remain beds.


Before he could get into that special class,
the man had to answer the following question:
“Which do you hate most — to be wrong, or to be correct?”
And he thought on it for a while, then asked:
“Which one is it that makes me fall down and burn myself?…”

One father solar system shouted out to his son
who was behind a closed door in an adjoining galaxy:
“You keep playing with your mind like you do with your dick
and you’re gonna go worse than blind!”
But, being a true son of his neural father, he knew it was just a josh.

No Joke Time: Only those born lame can go lame.


There was once a man who discovered some special food that
no one else knew about,
but when he attempted to share it,
no one was able to see what he was talking about…that is until
he began prefacing all remarks related thereto
with attacks on the audience.

…And some creatures in the crowd said to themselves:
“If we weren’t so pathetic, we’d really be pathetic.”

The phrase “it takes one to know one”
arose originally in the mind of one more-conscious man —
and was not intended to be heard there beyond,
save for others of a like condition.


Displays of sincerity display a lack of sincerity.
…Not a willful absence of such,
but rather an inability to experience it under the circumstances.


One day one man stood and declared:
“I demand to know what’s going on here!”
And life barked back:
“Who said that?”
And the fellow decided (for the moment) to drop the matter and not reply.

…Look at it this way
(unless you’re irreversibly addicted to the cold sores and paper cuts):
“Life don’t raise no fools”…it can’t…so be thankful…
and shut up about it.

– – –

Now for some linoleum tips:
There was once a miraculous, mysterious corn field in which grew only…
…”Oh my god! — you can’t be serious?”
Ah, but indeed I am,
and ’twas only the stalks therein who couldn’t believe it!

* * *


Everyone’s born with a squirrel —
most people don’t know what to do with it,
so they just learn to mostly ignore it and live with it.


A certain man, who’d been on The Quest with success sufficient that he
understood more now than he did when he began,
began to have serious doubts regarding the use of the term “rebirth”
to describe the aim of such efforts in that
once alive, everything already is all that it’s naturally intended to be.


The perceptive few go past the point of seeing through the mind’s
illusionary dichotomy of such notions as
“good and evil” and “true and false”
with the appearance of one being dependent on the appearance of the other,
and discover the overall misrepresentations of everything the mind

You further miss out if you blame definitional errors on the dictionary,
while still attributing its authorship to the incorrect source.

One day a tree said to a woodpecker:
“Isn’t it peculiar how humans will accept any blame that’s offered them?”

There has never been in this universe
any creatures who established a religion based on the body.

…(And the woodpecker agreed: “Yes, it is all rather peculiar.”)

There was once a building whose upstairs tenants
laughed at those below for their repetitious lives.

It’s the nature of those living below to be satisfied,
but completely otherwise for those upstairs.

…Which is why men’s fables of animals envying mortals are so
squalid and embarrassing,
same as with reports of spleens doing so, cortices.


One fellow who’d for many years been a Bermuda-shorts follower of
activity such as this
one day looked out the window of his library and pondered:
“Why do so many men seem so impressed over the difficulty in
pursuing the mystical quest?…
after all,
how can you be surprised about the unnecessary being hard to accomplish?”
He continued looking out for a moment or so,
then turned his gaze back inward…like a good little fellow.


One man decided to list the major categories he thought about,
and came up with the following:
he thought about things that he’d heard said,
things that he’d said,
things that he’d seen happen,
things that he’d done,
and things that he’d imagine he would say and do at some future time.
And that was all he could find that he ever thought about.

…And after thinking about this for a bit, he thought:
“This surely can’t be all that’s possible….”


It’s almost impossible for ordinary people to believe that
they’re receiving any personally useful information
unless it comes in the form of accusation, condemnation, or sermonizing.

…(Keeps the field pretty well cleared of anything related to The Secret.)


When one man first heard Tourette’s Syndrome described, he thought:
“So! — that’s what my mind’s had all these years!”

– – –

One man was funnier on a empty stomach than on a full one.
…(Or was that “funnier on a fragmented one?…)

– – –

“The Quest” redefined: optometry for the mind.

* * *


There was once a man who was at war,
who unknowingly swallowed a spy.

There was once a man who was at war —
but it was his imagination.

There was once a man who swallowed a spy —
but it was himself.

There was once a man who imagined he was at war,
and in the process, unknowingly swallowed himself.

— War During Lifetime —

* * *


A Hangnail History Of All Mysticism

First you kick the body around,
then you kick the emotions around,
then you try and kick the mind around until (if you’re successful at it)
it comes to realize that
kicking your body around accomplishes nothing,
and doing so your emotions, even less.

…(Kinda leaves the old mind in the position it unwittingly asked for —


Bemoaning the fact that little in life ever lives up to its own billing,
one man changed his middle name to “Middle Name.”


A certain man, who’d been on The Quest with success sufficient that he
understood more now than he did when he began,
began to have serious doubts regarding the use of the term “transformation”
to describe the aim of such efforts in that
no matter what one thing is apparently changed into, it’s still that thing.

A certain man who’d been on The Quest long enough to know what was going on
began to understand that there is no word to describe what it’s about.


And now for some more Facts:

Those who won’t be satisfied can’t be satisfied!

Almost no one can be satisfied.

…(Check in your home reference guide under
“B.R.L.: Being Routinely Alive.”

…[“One grand thing,” said the Wood’s Grand Wizard, “about being a
fox, an eagle, or a hare is that
since you don’t know that you are one
you can’t be dissatisfied in being one.”

…(Reporter’s Obligatory Notation:
The sensation of exactly what constitutes “dissatisfaction”
can vary widely from creature to creature.)])

* * *


A cosmic tale is told regarding beings on another world in this universe,
[a world] much advanced beyond this one,
who have determined the value of facts to be roughly half that of aluminum

– – –

A papa neuron told his son:
“Don’t laugh at your inferiors.”
And the lad thought: “What a joke!”

* * *


And now, from a competing thesaurus, this definition of a mystic:
“One who can make everyday affairs sound mystical.”
And of course the opposite is true as well.

And now a skiing update:
No one ever knows a mystic unless they’re accidently in a
very limited area for a very limited length of time — or else they are one.

Everyone starts out simple and naive,
then they become hip and sophisticated,
and would-be mystics become mystically hip and sophisticated,
and if they go on to become actual mystics,
they become consciously simple and naive (as in “by your leave, My Lord”).

One guy adopted the personal approach of “don’t take it personally,”
’til he reached the point of having no personal.


When one man heard the line in a song that said
“let me hear your body talk — body talk,”
he at first thought: “How could you not?”
But upon further reflection, added:
“Unless you were listening with the mind.”

Seeing a sign in a market that advertised “3 Pound Glazed Hams,”
one man scratched his head and thought:
“For some reason, that sounds strangely familiar.”


Although unrealized by the ordinary,
at the mental level, life is a game —
in fact, your choice of two games,
either Stand Up Tall, or
Bend Over And Grab Your Ankles.


An impish spirit once presented a man with a challenge,
saying it would give him a prize if he’d correctly calculate
the total number of different thoughts he had,
and after what seemed to be quite extraordinary effort,
the man did so,
and as his reward, came apart.


Men love to concoct myths regarding their origin
so they won’t have to face up to where they really came from.

A “mystic” (redefined again) is like someone who continues to tell jokes
long after he realizes that there’s nothing particularly funny going on.


Although life is The Secret,
the mind’s observations of life are like a preface to The Secret.


One of the abilities of the mind is that it can plot in its imagination
places where no man has ever gone,
but in some instances, by so doing,
precludes them ever doing so.

Yet another reason that mystics can’t afford to listen to anybody’s ideas!


Lest you conceive of man as overly complex
and underevaluate the power of functions simple and obvious,
remember this: there are no such things as “human emotions” without the
mind. …Therefore: can they be said to truly exist as a separate process
outside the mental one?

A man of vision does not require the sight of a fly,
and routine explanations of combustion can produce smoke sufficient to
cover all traces of fire.

When you consider the marvelous, evolutionary travels of man
under the apparent direction of the intellect,
try to simultaneously fit this to the fact that
the mind can map, but it cannot walk.

…Try to picture what it would be like — try to picture how it could be —
if you lived more-or-less the same life you do now,
but without the constant presence of thought.

At first you may think this foolish,
that you could not live as you do without the constant activity of your
mind, but this is “patently self-evident” only if not objectively examined.

It is useless to try and describe directly in words,
and extremely tricky and unnatural to attempt in person,
but it is possible to try to imagine it, and then get an actual glimpse of a
reality in which a so-called “thinking creature” is living by other means.


Someone (or something) kept knocking on one man’s door.


And now from our Secret, Transcendentalist’s Handbook
this heartwarming excerpt:
“The only thing that stands between a rational man and a
higher state of awareness is…everything.”

…(Well, hey — at least they narrowed it down for you.)

– – –

Something kept banging on one man’s door.

* * *