Jan Cox Talk 2977


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Condensed News = See below
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Jan’s Daily Fresh Real News (to accompany this talk)

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April 11, 2003 © 2003: JAN COX

When men have no comprehensive grasp of the situation under discussion
they tend (when their turn to speak) to repeat some comment previous made about one of its describable features, prefacing their repetitive remark by forcefully saying: “Well, there’s no doubt that…” (etc).
He who makes his point through a personal example,
has no point that he himself comprehends.
Wanting to be taken unusually seriously because of your extraordinary insight
is a most dangerous game….okay: a most ridiculous one — there! — satisfied?!
Showing himself firmly (or at least shakily) in the blues tradition, one man now sings as his personal theme song: “Oh, I’m A Man — Of Constant Nothing…”
How Life Works: Part 27-G
One man who wanted to be famous noticed that all famous people have bodyguards, so even though he was not famous, he got a bodyguard — and became famous —
famous for being the only non famous person with a bodyguard.
(“God! — it’s great to be a Homo Sapien” he later breathlessly exuded.)
An undersavored feature of having absolutely NO talent in a particular area is that
you’ll never realize it.
(PLEASE! — do not think how this might be applicable to your intelligence —
for soothie no! — nascent goethe.)
A man who claims to keep up with such things says the infallible way to
spot a false spiritual teacher is that he doesn’t try to fuck your girl friend.
Only men with no other bankable talent enter the priesthood,
(okay: also madmen too ugly to get into politics);
this is no critical observation of what men call the priesthood,
but rather of what men call, men.
“Pa pa: it is strange: sometimes I feel as though I am about to
grasp what you are talking about — then it completely slips away.”
“Don’t gimmie that crap: you always get it —
it’s just that sometimes you enjoy getting it, and sometimes you don’t.”
Note: you don’t live in the same house with someone without being able to
read their mind (it’s just that normal people refuse to face it),
and the Consolidated, All Crappy Cosmic Choir began to sing:
“If You Can’t Be,
The One You Are, Honey —
Be The One You’d Love To Be.”
“Daddy, when I get consolidated, can I be the one I am?”
“You’ll have no choice, little wiener.”
One man says he has become smitten in his own personal way
by the psychological idea of people being bipolar (going back & forth from a state of being deathly depressed to being unaccountably excited);
he says he would like to be bipolar in a setting wherein the constant shifts in
his state of consciousness would take him from being
merely awake to being SUPER awake (and back again — if he must).
One man used to ring himself up periodically to say how much he missed him —
even when he didn’t mean it.
If X is more impressed by Y than by himself,
X is very close to not being impressed.
Fact: all heroes are best left dead — villains, forgotten.
Legend holds in one kingdom that after an extended period of extremely poor
mental eating habits, the people’s culture turned on them with a singular viciousness,
after which they decided to come up with their own legends and myths:
“Better we should perish via self-inflicted Groover’s Syndrome
than by a form foisted on us,”
(and never forget, music lovers, the defiant cry of the wild goose:
“Outta my way you bastards! — I’m bipolar!”)
The Body Politic As It Really Is — In Your Head
The king can kid the people, but not the people the king.
“Pop, when I grow up can I be His Excellency?”
“Son, if you don’t — you AIN’T grown up.”
Unusual things occur in unusual families;
in ordinary households, only dust and dandruff get ahead,
(evidence of this recently surfaced when,
roaming amongst a zebra herd was discovered a ’57 Pontiac).
When you see for yourself that life itself is alive you will also come to recognize that
its body has its own ever shifting topography,
and that within it exists different time/development zones;
a full grasp of this normally unseen spatial & temporal feature of life-the-creature clears up all quandaries concerning the sundry beliefs of humanity’s various groups.
One City Sage’s Sagacious Aside For The Day
“The dumb (thank god) never realize just how dumb they are — or, (lord help us) — they’d be even more annoying than they are now!”
(the type of comment which, when made in an urban setting, sounds correct —
but can never be proven to be so
[except of course, by the dumbo making the comment,
“That’s the great thing about staying at home, huh Pop?! —
no one can ever prove to you that you are wrong.”
“Who the hell you been stayin’ with, boy!”
(Soon after that the lad left to become an independent rat inspector.)])
News Of The War
In the battle of ideas in man’s other reality,
there are no winners or losers — just battles —
endless, repetitive battles.
Imaginary snares,
taken for real,
are those from which,
even lions cannot escape.
One group was held captive so long that the word lost its original meaning.
Corollary: freedom-of-mind (for most) would only result in additional fear.

“Surely,” says one chap: “Man’s earliest blessed thoughts must have been about ThisKindaActivity —- his earliest curses, also.”

Heroes & peanuts be best left shelled and by the roadside;
on with your own journey.


Those who take seriously their thoughts regarding any of man’s intangible interests are lucky — they are already dead, and thus do not have that dreadful matter to fear in the future.