Jan Cox Talk 2903

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Jan’s Posted Daily Fresh Real News

Dragging You Around The Inner Dance Floor Since 1934
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JAN’S MENTAL MARATHON

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October 11, 2002 © 2002: JAN COX

We are all prisoners — prisoners of reality,
and those who think not are prisoners twice bound.
All philosophy, religion, and politics are futile attempts to deny our imprisonment —
a deluding act our captor allows — nay, in the normal — encourages;
for while reading about freedom — men believe they are free,
thus are they subtly urged to write and talk about freedom,
and thus do you find them — contentedly in their cells —
cells made of fanciful words and hollow ideas about freedom;
but no amount of talk will alter the plain, clear and simple fact: we are prisoners
(but no cause to feel bad — so are the stars and all the atoms which make the universe).

The unseen freedom of the certain man comes from his looking beyond the world that everyone else sees.

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THE NEW ART OF WAR AND CONQUEST
AKA: IN PRAISE OF IGNORANCE,
OR: THE PROPER RECOGNITION OF HOW TO RULE

“My boy: the more the people know —
the harder it is for The King to rule,”
and the son understood this was not actually about knowledge,
and that the people and king referred to are activities of mind.

If man A & B debate and by collective judgment, A’s words seem to prevail,
does that prove that what B said was not true? —
and how plays out such an affair in your head when it is your thoughts by themselves
jostling for the truth?

The way the certain man leads himself in this unchartable journey
is by getting behind himself;
if your front rank is not also your rump — your army goes no where.

It is the facts which mind cannot comprehend that alone are valuable –
and they are valuable only because mind can comprehend them not.

When someone you do not know and did not invite appears in your head
saying (in essence): “It’s me — (that is) — you!” –
you are alive, human, and conscious.

Thinking you see when you do not — is blindness;
realizing this is the gaining of sight.

A great defeat occurs when you attack and there is no enemy there.

To know what is going on requires but one word,
but it requires many words to tell that this is so,
and being entangled in many words is what keeps your mind from realizing that everything you want to know is in one.

(Some days the Yankees win, some days the Red Socks — but always somebody.)

A king told a prince:
“Son: never discount the ability of words to talk about nothing,
and make it seem as though it is of supreme importance.”
“Hey Pop, tell me about it:
my thoughts’ave been doing that to me for as long as I can remember.”

A sufficient array of unfocused thoughts can spiral about in the mind like a whirlwind and completely block out accurate inner sight.

A know-it-all king doesn’t know it all if he wants it known that he knows it all.

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Nursery Nonsense Updated:
Peas porridge hot
peas porridge cold
a twice thought thought has
gotten too old.

Stories told of how particular men achieved the realization are footprints —
footprints made by shoes –
but which tell nothing of the feet which were in them.

Peas porridge shy,
peas porridge bold,
a tale twice chewed has
become dead cold.

Those who actually know what is going on are never recognized by those who do not, for the simple reason that they cannot.

Peas porridge mine,
peas porridge yours,
peas porridge in the street
satisfies no one.

The sign of an ordinary mind is that it looks for precedent in what it thinks;
that of the certain man has an exact opposite approach.

One man considers the concept of, connect-the-dots not as a children’s game,
but the way to understand life.

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A man not proposing to himself — something to look forward to —
has nothing to look back on — and,
a man with nothing to look back on has a much better line of sight.

Though not visualized by slack minds,
the past is constantly trying to tear away men’s view of it ,
like a corpse — an ill fitting shroud.

“Son, a man with an unchipped brick-of-a-mind looks over his shoulder
for but one reason: to remind himself that nothing and no one is there —
— including the memories that call themselves, himself.”

One man privately, damn near overwhelms himself —
“And thank god for it!” he adds.

J