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Jan’s Posted Daily Fresh Real News
May 9, 2001.
Thinking that there is something you can learn that will make you see-what-is-going-on
is like wanting to dress up your hair,
and after giving it a perfunctory try, from then on,
mistaking the comb you left there — for your hair.
Only burned books are useful,
and deceased teachers helpful.
To get-ahead you must stay-ahead,
and to stay-ahead you must be alone:
just you — and your nobody.
Humility is clothes stuck on a paper doll named:
Stupidity-hiding-behind-vanity —
— which-is-a-covering-for-still-deeper-stupidity.
To get-ahead you have to let-go,
and to let-go you must recognize for yourself
what that thing running your hand is holding on to.
Thats right — it is holding onto ITSELF! —
— and making you pay for the illusionary intimacy.
No need to call a sex line: just sit there, and continue listening to that voice already talking to you;
its seductive powers are not only formidable,
but custom made for you personally.
I regret, (actually am, pleased),
that I have but one eye — one BAD I —
to give-to-the-cause….and that IS because..well —
you know why-because!
Definition: A mystical martyr is a stupid, vain,
(ah, redundancy!), man whose
masquerade mask slips from his hand.
The town of, Clarity, so passionately cried for
by party goers still in costume,
is to be found on your internal map
just between, What-The-Hell-Does-That-Mean?! and,
I’ve-About-Had-Enough-Of-This!
Few who beg for it
have a system to digest it.
Okay Louie, stay right where you are,
we have the place surrounded —
as witnessed by the fact that you hear me saying this,
even while it is you doing so — SO — (you see):
you cant get away Louie.
(You don’t MIND if I call you, Louie — do-ey, Louie?)
Only those get-away
who finally come to grips with the fact that no one can.
Tip To Those Born Of Privilege:
There is a certain seldom visited area near here
wherein the term, no-one-can
has a MOST peculiar spelling.
(Hint, hint — wink, wink — tip, tip.)
You do realize that the blunt, Big Boy Version is that
anyone who reads a book, listens to the radio,
or goes to a movie is blatantly admitting their mental inadequacy?
To the son, the father said:
The reason that no one knows-what-to-do-about-things
is that there is nothing TO do,
Nothing? asked the lad,
Well, answered the elder, That, (and as you
should understand by now), not-nothing as well.
Understood, he replied.
A man with only the eyes life gave him
sees but with one — and is thus, blind;
he born to wealth & privilege buys a second,
and is hence with some sight,
but those who go beyond being merely satisfied to,
See-Amongst-The-Blind
eventually have all their sockets blown out.
Even if you meet an electrician, it will do you no good
if you have nothing ready to plug in.
You can discuss it for ever,
with your father, and your mother;
you can talk yourself in — and — talk yourself out;
the one thing that wealth & privilege brings
is the keenness of wit to admit when
you have been outwitted.
How To Tell That You Have Been Outwitted: You are alive.
How To Tell That Being Outwitted Has Not Yet Had
The Desired Affect: You still some times feel:
Ive about had all of this I can stand!
Note: No ones liver, lungs, or kidneys
ever say such things — no sir!
There is only one tar baby in every mans briar patch –
and you brung er there your self! Yes sir!
(Course thats not technically correct,
you was forced to bring er!…………………..still & all:
nobodys holdin a gun to yer head,
and makin you kiss all over her — like you love her! —
ever time you have to dance.)
The stickiness a man finds on his hands
just before he dies, is not a sign of carnal self abuse,
but rather a residual of a lifetime spent impotently clutching that viscid & frigid reflection of yourself.
When underprivileged people dance,
they always look at their thoughts;
the wealthy — always at their feet.
By the third set, only the square & threadbare
are still hoping to trip-out, and see the face of god;
hip dancers have moved on to simply trying not to trip.
The struggle to, self-remember
is like a mixer for adolescents;
the adult soiree requires only that you,
feet-remember,
and be Eternally-Mindful of where you step.
The ultimate miraculousness of the whole affair is not in learning how to fly out of the ballroom window,
but in seeing and accepting the event for what it is.
Punchbowl mystics & geeks-on-the-sidelines
dream of acquiring magical powers,
but there is no magic other than
to see things as they are.
(Plus: nothing you can imagine even comes close to this in magicality. It is truly — un-be-lieve-a-ble!
And is not that, super weird?!:
that simply, seeing-things-as-they-are
is the height of magic possible for a human.
What does that tell you about your ordinary state Mate!?)
Attention Film Buffs: There is a documentary of your life playing continually at a place near you.
Certain disgruntled & sorehead mystical types tend to thoroughly dislike, (read, despise), anyone they suspect of having seen the thing through to the end.
But every hero needs his foe, (eh what?!) —
especially self-concocted ones.
Ah, the sweet, sweet dreams,
spun oer the punchbowl by those too timid by temperament to tango, yet too pissed to sit quietly by.
(Pst! — someones yelling your way: Oh, yoo hoo!
Is that you? Is that REALLY you?!
Only those still dancing with the tar baby
always feel obliged to respond to such questions.
.and then — no matter how hard they try —
— always inaccurately.)
Find a man who doesnt know who he is,
and you have found a man asleep;
find another man who doesnt know who he is —
— but who understands the position —
and you have found a man who is
different from the first man.
On some planets the creatures say that things are going from, bad-to-worse
while on others they claim to be, hoping-for-the-best;
then on one remote, obscure world
it is difficult to tell exactly what is going on!
(leastwise, based on what the beings there say!
which is mainly, nothing!)
Which brings to mind that nebulous automotive marque which built only cars that no one could drive —
— nor explain why they could not.
As it clearly stated on the first page of
the owners manual: Only the moronic can believe that they are behind the wheel,
and only the blind — that they are going somewhere.
Ye Gads! Gertrude —
what a marvelous journey this be,” exclaimed Gunther
as sitteth they,
in the drive way.
Everyone is in a hurry except those
who-know-what-is-going-on —
— which is why they are in none.
What does that tell you about your watching-the-clock, Doc?!
One man finally got a call thru to,
The-Center-Of-The-Universe, and said:
Look here, I know what the problem is,
all I want from you is the solution!
and can you believe it?!:
The Center hung up in his face?!?!
(Hey! What d I do?! whined the man.)
There once was a Bright-Light-School named:
If You Dont Know — We Cant Tell You
which was eventually taken over by the:
We Dont Know Either, But Will Tell You Any Way outfit.
In fact, theyre still around today.
Over 6,000 Served.
Would you like fries with your lies?
After many years,
upon leaving the monastery,
one man said he was doing so to:
“work in the mines……alone.
J
……(Note: there is but one mine, and a single miner.)