Summary = None
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Jan’s Posted Daily Fresh Real News
Diverting The Few From The Sausage Grinder
Since Eighteen Hundred And Forty-Niner
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STOCKS CONTINUE TO FLUCTUATE —
STOCK YARDS REMAIN STABLE
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December 4, 2002 © 2002: JAN COX
The best intended plans of priests, possums and philosophers
have little to do with the possible agenda of the independent thinker.
(For the razor minded, the word, “agenda” may be substituted with, “unbelievable belly laughs.”)
First Stage Civilized: Hormones jumping through hoops.
Second Stage: Neurons performing the same feat.
The curious circularity in man-the-civilized is that
while hormones remain the instigator of everything, neurons now have the final say:
this is why (to the certain man) neurons are more important than hormones
except when they are not.
Brains that believe in a mentally conceivable deity
in truth, think they are smarter than life itself;
if they would drop the unnecessary intermediate concept
they would be on to something.
Manhattan Is Not A Real New Yorker:
The street layout of a city should not be the neural pattern of an inhabitant;
one way streets;
no turn intersections;
limited access highways, and cul de sacs
do not appear on the independent thinker’s inner map.
Once you realize the proper use of thought,
any momentary, expedient conclusion your mind presents
concerning some matter in your mind’s eye is irrelevant;
to those who know: 2 plus 2 can equal black as well as white;
for the certain man: thought is one thing — conclusions, something else entirely;
they are to real thought as peel to plums.
If you leave your thoughts to live in the city
they will forever be buffaloed & stampeded by the normal mental herd;
there is nothing inherently wrong with humanity, nor its collective consciousness,
it is simply not the place that provides the certain man’s mind with
its needed nourishment.
That at which you cannot in secret smile is your captor.
Would Paradise be
where all minds are free? —
yes, as seen from below,
but at its own level, no — a new form of captivity,
thus does not a man who knows re imprison himself by declaring: “I know.”
Even an independent thinker’s extraordinary individual achievements cannot interfere with the collective’s illusory ones.
Another measure of TheThing (if you need one):
If other people being asleep bothers you — you are not awake,
(or: If other people’s stupidity bothers you — you still ain’t smart.)
Only a man who knows and can decide for himself that he will not talk about it
can refrain from talking about it.
Those who can — do,
those who can’t — criticize.
Question: how can a creature unknowingly with two minds not feel in conflict;
in the realm of man’s mental reality:
a binary based being has no need for an external foe
(and one sheep declared: “Ain’t nobody gonna kick this here lamb around! — no sir! —
not as long as I can do the job!”
and a near by cow upon hearing this sighed: “If that weren’t so what-chu-call-it —
it’d be funny…………..no, make that pathetic…………..wait, funny.”)
A creature (with thoughts) in extreme pain,
has the potential for extreme gain.
Making fun of humans is easy sport — for sub humans
(that is: those civilized but once by the city authorities).
Those who enjoy science feel that as man’s knowledge of the physical universe expands, so too does their mind;
those who relish the inner world of man’s other reality believe that
as minds add thereto, their personal understanding of this physically non existent,
but important-to-the-ordinary realm will increase;
confusing the human inventions of physics and psychology (for instance)
does city dwellers no harm,
but the certain man cannot forever look down the barrel of religion (for instance)
and believe he sees a bullet;
hormones spawned horticulture,
but neurons proclaim which plants have supernatural qualities.
Question: how can something so smart act so dumb?
(In the city, mankind’s collective mind slaps itself on the back so loudly and incessantly
as to cause the unwary to take it personally.
[From yet another perspective: why silence surrounds those who know.])
All mental colors in the city are mixtures of but two pigments,
and none save the hog butcher knows what the pigs meant.
Some prisoners (I mean, city dwellers)
concern themselves with trying to study the nature of broadcasting,
while others believe it more profitable to examine the quality of their receiver —
— meanwhile —
the independent thinker is out somewhere attempting to
set up his own pirate radio station.
No one ever knows what the certain man really thinks
since it never goes out over the airwaves.
The realization is the only piece of mortal info that if shared — shreds.
Thus, once you know — and now have a self — you keep it to yourself.
….And one more thing:
an observation followed by a comment is not the same as one not:
a fact made use of by the certain man in the privacy of his own mind.
Okay, an even better one: no one understands what the certain man is talking about except another certain man.