Jan Cox Talk 1543

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The News

1543 96009 01/22/96 Copyright J. M. Cox 1996


Another version of the Genesis myth says that when man was driven from
his original birthplace he did not go directly to his present state,
as commonly believed,
but rather first passed through another land,
the effects of which journey
he still unwittingly bears.

When the time to leave arrived,
a father said to the departing son:
“Once you’re out there, remember this —
whenever someone tells you that you can go directly from here to there,
know that they are mislead, and strangers even unto their own kingdom,
and understand not its unique topography
plainly laid out before them.”

The travels of silent beasts are too simple to evolve,
a creature must be able to speak of its journey
to expand the scope of its journey,
and experience that not merely mundane.

“I think, therefore I am,
I feel, therefore I think,
I feel, therefore I feel — I feel — I feel.”


One man blamed the bottle cap
for his dislike of the drink.


One way to keep from seeing how things really are is to keep talking.


As he felt and behaved in ways not expected,
a man with a bottle once mused:
“There’s no predicting the effects of drinking,
nor, for that matter, those of thinking.”

…And no need to say “bottoms up!”
when things are upside down already.


Everyone knows how they look, and what they think,
but who knows how they feel?

As part of his own personal exploration,
one man undertook a very close study of all the implications of the word

From behind the sacred screen the temple oracle said to those there
gathered: “When I first told you of the need to ‘know thyself,’
why did none of you ask ‘which self’?”
…And after they stood silently for a while, letting this sink in,
one man finally said to himself: “How were we to know?”
And the mind-reading oracle immediately cried out:
“How, how, how! —
there you people go again,
using words and ideas that subjectively to you
sound meaningful and knowingly used,
but which in truth are but commonly accepted and comfortable noises,
little more than a minimal mental version of
squeals of recognition between pigs.”

What reason would a more realized consciousness have to speak of physical
and emotional matters lower than its own level?


There was once a prince with an expansive kingdom
who only lived, in part, therein.

A man reflected:
“Is the difference between the more conscious and the delusionary that,
while they both see nonstandard connections and relationships,
but one of them understands and benefits therefrom?”

Ask not “for whom the bell tolls ‘how'” but rather
how does it continue to do so and I never ask “why.”

There was once born a prince, with an expansive kingdom,
and only through great effort did he come to realize
how all corners were connected.

There were two brothers who heard this story of the prince, and one of them
said: “I think I understand it.” And the other said: “I don’t like it! —
it makes me feel…feel…how shall I put it?…how, how, how?…”


One man blamed his nose
for his annoyance at the smells.


One way to keep from realizing how dumb you are is to keep talking.


No critic is worthy opposition to a warrior,
nor deserving of any response.

A mystical hero can only be shamed and insulted by one source —
and you know who that is.


Ode Of The Enlightened Apartment Dweller

“Don’t live up too high,
nor too far below,
try and stay somewhere in the middle…
if at all possible…and if you can locate it.”

A man who’d studied all the world’s major theologies finally put to
himself: “They picture the gods and heaven to be above man,
and the demons of hell beneath him —
should not that alone give rise to suspicions about the
conceptual limitations of man’s earthbound mind?”

And theory that doesn’t take every possibility into consideration
shouldn’t even qualify for minimal acceptance as a theory.
…”But hold on there,” interrupts one man,
“if you were to take into account every possibility imaginable,
you would not have a legitimate theory —
you’d simply have a…a…well, I’m not sure what to call it,
but it’d fer damn sure be a mess!”


One man blamed the pain
for the ache of his over-stuffed stomach.


One day the young prince asked the Royal Thinker:
“If an awakened warrior cannot be killed,
and will not commit suicide,
then what can be done with him?”
And the counselor replied:
“He may be eventually prompted to search for that place within himself
that is the individual outlet for the collective energy that is life —
a knowledge of which would put him beyond the two deadly possibilities
noted in your question.”


One man blamed the thing that talked —
not knowing where else to look.

Only those men are interested in discussing things who
have no real desire to know what’s going on.

Life admitted to one guy:
“Yeah, I may sometimes kick men around,
but at least I’m fair about it.”
And the guy had no idea what life was talking about.

One man blamed the thing that said “ouch!”
never seeking the source of the pain.

Everyone blames the end-of-the-line — hey!
it’s the obvious thing to do.

One way to keep from realizing how little talk actually amounts to
is to keep talking.


Coming too close to Istanbul has caused many a traveler to abandon the

“Nothing slays like success,” said the prince.
To which a warrior added, “Praise be.”

A man with some knowledge in the area
once decided that he’d construct a
logical, methodical, dependable, and well-behaved system by which
men could study things mystical,
but, thankfully, he broke his mind before he could complete it.
…(Or else he might’ve broke yours.)


So pondered one man,
“If you can’t effect where you’re born,
and can’t determine where you’ll die,
then what’s the basis for men’s illusion that they chose where they now
live, taking into no account that their emotions were their fascist

The speaker said,
“No matter how educated you are by your peers,
there will always be some idea you can’t understand.”
And a voice in the crowd asked, “Such as?”
To which the speaker replied,
“Such as understanding the nonphysical energies that shape the
unique life of man.”

To infinitely compare man to the lower animals is futile,
and to hold him up to the collective’s dreams of angels is equally
unproductive — man can only be profitable pictured in relation to his own
potential, which in turn is conceivable only to those of already futuristic

One man name his mind “Such as”…just in the spirit of wishful thinking.


One man had such important things to say that he’d only talk about them
as long as his voice held out.

The actual significance of anything humans think about is in
direct, inverted proportion to…something or other.


A mystic said to an audience,
“Tell me in what areas of your life and body you feel most guilty
and I will tell you how conscious you are.”
And someone in the crowd responded,
“Is this a trick?”
“Why, certainly,” said the mystic, “what d’ya expect?”
Which of course is not what the crowd ever expects,
notwithstanding the fact that that’s what they’re constantly faced with.

…And life confessed to one guy,
“Yeah, I may mentally mislead men at times,
but at least I do it out in the open — right before their eyes.”
And the guy was in no wise encouraged or placated.

Flocks dream not of the morrow,
nor the future do herds celebrate —

in parades, the force of great numbers
keep possible roamers in line.

But fret not — all is not hopeless,
for if today there is no joy in Mudville,
’tis only because you submit to being in Mudville.

None sail the Titanic,
save those who queue up at dockside, ticket in hand.

When the normal, the ordinary, and everyday say,
“Over here! — over here! — come join us, over here!”
flee them internally like the comforting, blinding plague
they unwittingly represent.

The majority may or may not be (at any given moment) correct,
but, as long as it is the voice and thinking of the majority,
you can be sure that even when apparently correct, it is useless.

But fret not — all is not to no avail,
for to the more keen-of-mind,
all that would pull down and shame man is that which is below him —
below him in himself — and in the past, which is gone & to be forgotten.


Query yourself this:

If babble and chatter are signs of an inferior intellect,
and men talk much more than does life (apparently),
then how can they believe they’re in any fashion superior to life?…
other than the possibility of it all being an artful illusion inasmuch as
— who puts men up to what they say other than life?

…Then one man coughed up this confession:
“If mortal existence was not so based on trickery and misdirection,
I guess it could be taken as serious!”

…And another man held himself down, and tortured himself until he admitted
that he did not actually know the difference between the torturer & the
…(After that, he let himself go.)

Okay then — how can you tell if yours is an inferior intellect? —
why, you can’t, of course,
and thereby are the ordinary nicely protected…from themselves…and the

While playing, one kid posed this to a bud,
“What’s the difference between man’s routine, intellectual explanations of
life and his defecation process?” And his pal replied, “Bottoms up!”

…Okay, then, mister smarty pants — how can you tell?


As life caused man to get lost in the woods,
it laid down a trail of bread crumbs, tracing his path —
this trail being the collective’s genetics —
the ability to read it being the reward of the awakened.

…But…what have we here? —
a cross-eyed man in a house of mirrors
never feels disoriented.
…Oh!…so that’s what we have here! — everyday, human intelligence.

…And a man overhearing this reacts,
“I don’t care how you claim otherwise,
such as you’ve just said is most certainly a criticism of man! —
and don’t try to tell me that it’s not! —
I have perfectly good hearing and intelligence,
and I hear quite well you criticizing man,
and nothing you can say will convince me otherwise.
…And what do you say to that?” he concludes.
What indeed can you say to that?

As life lead man into a woods, for which he had no map,
it placed within him the potential to develop a transcendental, mental
compass which can locate not only where he is not, but from whence he came,
along with hints as to the direction in which the unestablished future may


A secret that can be revealed is not The Secret.


For a fraud to succeed, the defrauded must freely participate…
think about that next time you think about how you usually think!


According to legend, there was once an extreme mystical order which said
that all talk is a form of criticism.

As the plane dipped low, and its flight became increasingly erratic,
someone yelled out,
“Well, if you are going to crash,
the least you can do is shut off the engines,
and save us from that godawful noise.”

If you’re alive, you’re going to die,
and if your mind is only minimally alive, it believes that
everything’s going to die.
…Silly mind.
“Roger! — wilcott — out and about! — mach five!”

According to legend, the only mystical orders acceptable
are those extreme. …”Okay: Mach nine!”


After many decades of dating,
one night, life finally offered to drive man home.
…”More trickery, I assume,” said a voice in the crowd.