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Jan’s Posted Daily Fresh Real News
MAN CHARGED WITH
INDECENT EXPOSURE:
PROMISES TO ZIP UP HEAD NEXT TIME
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July 12, 2002 © 2002: JAN COX
There was once a fairyland which was ruled by two spirits:
one ran the workers — the other, the thinkers;
both served proteins; one to muscles — one to neurons;
one food — two outcomes ———– how come?
Residency: the inside of a man’s head who knows what is going on
would look like a model home in which no one lives.
The most dangerous phrase life has ever allowed into man’s mind is:
“There is nothing that money cannot buy” –
when initially heard, men will nod their heads in agreement, but when asked directly if they believe this to be true, life then directs them all to pause for a moment, look reflective, and say, “No”
but how can a fact not be believed –
who is made ridiculous via its rejection — the fact, or the rejecter?
Embroidered breeches and silk stockings get no laughs at
a Louie XIV masquerade ball.
(“Yes, my motto has always been: Stick with your kind —
which I especially direct to my neurons,
[the only way to maintain a stabilized inanity, don’t you know]).”
Oceanography: the inside of a man’s head who knows what is going on
would look like the surface of a lake upon which the wind never blows.
There was once a land where everything was cut & dried — dull, in other words;
then a magician appeared who put mystery into their lives,
but within a short while the mystery became old hat,
and for fresh excitement the creatures there began trying to solve the mystery
that had been brought into their lives,
an activity which took away the mystery and made life dull again —
(and when a transient shoe salesman pointed out what had happened to them,
the populous, as one replied: “Huh?”)
The Psychological Diagnosis: the inside of a man’s head who knows what is going on would appear somewhat disturbed but never actually ill.
There was once a spot where sounds ruled supreme –
then they were attacked by a virus — one that turned them into words –
with the even worse side effect that they struck the ears of hearers as now being of more consequence than they were before –
“impossible” you say (since they were supreme to begin with),
yes, but now that they were words, they could make sounds apparently mean whatever they wanted them to mean, and in this case, they meant for themselves,
sounds now words, to be taken über seriously — and thus, by Johnson! — they were.
(“Yes, my rule has always been: If you want to be in charge — live alone,
[if only my better synapses would ever understand this]).”
The Landscape: the inside of a man’s head who knows what is going on
would look more like a barren plain than an interesting tourist attraction, or public park.
On one planet — everyone is everyone else’s hero — not really,
not in the reality sense of admiring their physical strength, valor and beauty,
but in every person envying what they imagine other people are like internally;
being impressed by the hair on someone’s head is one thing, but being swooned away by the nothingness inside of it is another sack of chickens entirely.
Only mirrors find anything interesting in other mirrors,
(“Pa pa — does that make the hero of all our family legends,
The Fortuitous Seven Years That Brought On Itself?”)
La Scala: the opera inside the head of a man who knows what is going on
would be an entertaining melody with words always in an unknown tongue.
The hip do not act hip — they are hip — same with those who know what is going on; they do not talk like they do, nor try to appear that they do;
the awake do not somehow act awake — they simply are awake,
(what good would it do to try to act awake anyway, since those not would not get it.
[Le concert, c’est moi]).
The Lab: the inside of a man’s head who knows what is going on
is like a place of constant testing which never publishes any findings.
(Their slogan [admittedly pinched] is: There is nothing to discuss.)
The Question:
Why be a ball of agitated redundancy when you can be a cold slab of marble —
(not only can you see yourself in marble,
but you don’t have to break it like you do city made mirrors).
J