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Jan’s Posted Daily Fresh Real News
October 31, 2001.
Consciousness is a natural storyteller;
the most important ones it tells you are about the world outside of you;
it tells you these continually, verbally and otherwise;
when its vocal ability is not so engaged, it still tells you stories,
but no longer about the world outside of you — but rather tales about itself.
Consciousness does not identify these autobiographical yarns as such,
but relates them to you under a variety of various titular guises causing you to believe that
you are constantly hearing stories about a multitude of extrinsic characters and events
when all the time, consciousness is narrating naught but fantastic fables and speculative stories about itself.
Throughout history in all urban areas man’s greatest public works project has always been,
the fight against boredom:
this having become a challenge in that fully civilized men have two lives:
the one that their body actually lives, and the one in their head that they think about,
and in most urbanized/mentalized people,
the life in their head is more active than the one of their body,
which results in that unique human phenomena: boredom.
As long as his consciousness is involved in telling stories which are
directly related to & tracking some significant activity of the body,
a man is never bored,
but when his consciousness is not so naturally engaged in its primary form of story telling
it will continue to speak, but now having no subject to talk about that is outside of itself,
there is only one other thing that it has any knowledge of — itself,
and thus, since it cannot shut up,
it weaves fantasies about itself, though never labeled as such,
and ordinary men live out their days unaware of what is going on right there in their own heads, (leastwise they do a good job of pretending not to be).
These never ending, around-the-campfire-story-fests, (just you and consciousness, [which of course is actually just consciousness and consciousness, but why quibble over bibbles]),
have consequences of specific significance to those few mental loners who would like,
(IF you don’t mind!) to have the campfire all to themselves, (based on the principle that
the fewer people who are around it, the more light-to-see that there is for you);
the consequences of direct pertinence to the development of unusual
inner sight sought by the few are these:
consciousness unidentified story telling about itself creates the illusion that it
knows something about itself,
totally forgetting — ignoring the plain fact that it is engaged in a pure act of fiction.
When it commenced this off-duty activity, it realized clearly what it was doing,
same as with a parent telling a child a story they made up;
as they first tell it, they are fully aware that they are simply making it up as they talk,
but due to the conveniently spotty nature of consciousness memory of matters concerning itself,
it demonstratively has now forgotten, (or chooses to act like it has),
that it single handed made up all of the tales of gods;
of what is natural & unnatural:
of truth & error;
of mans supernatural past and future;
of moral propriety and self improvement,
and of mans responsibility to life and of finding its purpose —
— that each and every one of these stories is about itself and nothing else.
You will never understand anything more about what is going on than you do now
or when you were fifteen years old, without fully realizing the above,
or else as your consciousness speaks to and for you —
you will forever accept that you are thinking about, studying, and reflecting on
all manner of different, interesting subjects —
but they are subjects which have no existence independent of the consciousness which
created them and now absent mindedly treats them otherwise.
Without you see this for yourself you are like a man trapped in a house of mirrors, but who believes he has a map of the way out,
but fails to recognize that the map is a mirror.
Another consequence indirectly resulting from the above is that
by not realizing that all of the stories your consciousness tells that are not about
the physical reality of the world outside of you, are fables about itself,
is that via these tall tales, it believes that it knows itself,
and you, (acting as its beard), go along.
If there is one sure sign that a man has no clue of what is going on
it is if he will confidently say that he, “knows who he is — (can you spell, sap?..you’re right,
perhaps too harsh even for literary purposes..okay:
na?ve-child-listening-to-fairy-tales-&-taking-them-for-real);
all that a man knows is whatever his body instinctively and silently knows,
along with whatever his consciousness knows and can talk about, (which includes two areas):
what it knows about the body and the world outside the body,
and what it knows of the stories it has made up about itself,
so — yes, if you will accept the yarns that a thing may unilaterally tell about itself
as being knowledge of itself then men do know-who-they-are.
Another consequence supra signaled is that consciousness relentless story telling about itself makes the life in most men’s heads more active than the one of their body,
and thus they feel constantly restless, and given to boredom;
the standard treatment thereof is to make available to your consciousness
the stories of someone else’s, (books, movies, conversations),
or to temporary distract it from its pondering of itself through contrived physical activity
outside itself, (spectator sports, or participation therein),
which, for ordinary people, serves the purpose,
but if not for you — you could be of the few,
but to ever make profitable use of this, you must see it for yourself — you must see it in yourself.
Normally a man is totally fooled by his consciousness, (which, in the name of accuracy is to
really say that normally a man’s consciousness pretends to totally fool itself,
but why let precision stand in the way of The News!),
normally a man is completely fooled by the stories his consciousness constantly is telling,
but there seems to always be a few people on this planet at any given time
who have an inherent hunger, and an inchoate ability to not be so wholly gulliblized;
one check you can perform of yourself is to question yourself, (then certainly follow up
and investigate the replies since the word of no suspect is to be trusted),
as to (1): whether you are satisfied that the stories your consciousness tells you,
(about itself, but disguised as being about you), provide any useful knowledge about you?
and (2): if you are not satisfied: are you upset with your consciousness for doing it?
There is the key.
Consciousness is a natural born storyteller,
and only a dunce expects he can teach a zebra to spot
rather than stripe.
Living is living,
and storytelling is storytelling,
and realizing the distinction is the true enlightenment.
J