Jan Cox Talk 2989


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Jan’s Daily Fresh Real News (to accompany this talk)

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The News Ain’t Really The News (Once You Know What Is Going On)
May 9, 2003 ©2003: JAN COX

The great epic stories humans love to tell of man’s adventures
in his unique inner realm are primarily ones of great loss —
few tell of great gain or discovery;
such be the purview of the certain man who, in myths and dreams deals not.
(For fun and profit, ask yourself:
why, contrasting the conventional thinking of collective humanity,
to that of a man privately trying to get to the actual bottom of things,
is this matter so arranged?)

In The Land Of The Nervous System:
two things cause sadness: the way you feel, and what you think,
and what you think is caused by how you feel,
and how you feel is caused by — no one can truly say —
which is why the nervous system has thoughts constantly scrambling to do so.

In The Time Line Of Being Alive:
first you’re immortal — then you’re sick — then you’re sicker and sicker,
and then you’re dead.
“Say Pop, isn’t that like how mentally, first you’re conscious — then distracted —
then more and more distracted, and then you’re dead and simply conscious again?”
“Well……………..guess you could put it like that.”

For a large part of his life, one man felt and acted as though
being alive was an imposition on him —
only to later consider that him behaving that way could be an imposition on life.

Even to this day, one of the gods of local conditions on one world remains peeved at the creatures in his charge because of them never having composed
a triumphant march in his honor,
(surprisingly do some of these sectional overseers seem not to understand
how mortal, mental matters work) –
“Hey Dad – same as how things operate inside your own head, huh?!”

One man would sometimes say to himself:
“I should not be taking what happens in my life so personally”
and later expanded this to:
“I should not be taking my life in toto so locally —
this is life we’re talking about here —
and life is not confined TO just here — to my existence.”

A man who takes being alive seriously is one of two things:
either dead, or encouraging it.

And another man has concluded that in the advanced stage of
pursuing that certain activity,
what is in order is a kind of private, controlled goofiness.

There are no sober philosophers in bars —
which is why we have bars.

Amidst one of their endless dances, one brain’s thoughts mused:
“This has certainly not turned out to be what I expected when I first arrived here,”
an observation so……pithy (or something) that the brain had no ready comeback.

Serious predictions are only for serious losses…………(or does that say, losers?)

All ordinary knowledge is circular —
whether it wants to be or not —
whether you think it should be or not —
whether it seems rational to be or not —
all normal knowledge is still circular.
(This is why only the young, with their brains just beginning to dance with thoughts, can sing with a straight face: “Here We Go Loop dee Loop,” and:
“Ring Around The Roses.”)

One man says: “Contrary to how it is applied to horse racing:
the first moments when I awaken every morning are truly:
‘The most exciting two minutes in sports’”.

A father said to a still developing son:
“Any time you have the urge to tell another person how they could better live their life, ask yourself: on what basis does a lawn mower, which can’t yet hemstitch,
offer sewing instructions to another machine?”

Those who quote others — deserve one another;
in the land of oz: for every speaker is a listener;
in the land of normal neurons: for every speaker is a listener.

A man destined (if there was such a thing) to know-what-is-going-on
won’t be led —- he cannot be.

Due to genetic distinctions, each man’s mind speaks to him in an individual patois
in its describing of life’s nature, thus, not through stupidity,
does every person have a slightly different mental conception of how things are.

At humanity’s conventional level:
man’s first duty is to individually survive;
his second is to assist his species in doing so;
his third is to bitch about it.

The way men tolerate unsatisfying, bewildering lives is by living them
with only limited, fixed awareness (that is): by staring at what draws their attention;
by never looking over the affair in a truly investigatory manner — but by staring at it.

From any objective perspective: ordinary thought is but fixed attention.

In Re The Authorized Urban Audible Spectrum.
To an ordinary man’s inner ears,
nothing sings like the natural moods of his own nervous system –
thus do those with only city reception
find the Top Forty that is played to be the ONLY forty.

The Electronic University Of The Net
presents today’s lesson from the course: Prones 101:
if you are human — you’re prone to dislike change.

Course completed — class dismissed.

A certain businessman, while reflecting on the vagaries of thought-production,
vis a vis its distribution, mused:
“My mind thinks gold –
my lips speak silver,
and listeners hear tin.”
Thus was he moved to stop talking to himself.
Few ever take into account the effect of shouting from an upper story window,
then running down to the street to receive the sound.
If hormones and neurons (feelings and thoughts) did not speak two different languages, we would have no neurons.

One day a man stood at the highest point just outside the edge of the city –
held wide his arms — looked to the sky and sang out: “O supreme life:
my own desires — my only dreams are as two awaiting, anxious pieces of bread —
all that I ask of you great force is — send down the mayo!”

Those who (based on what happens to them)
periodically say that life has finally: gone-too-far
are themselves grossly in need of additional travel experience (aka):

If death don’t kill you — progress will.

Sensing how pleasurable and profitable can be change,
one local reality allowed its creatures to think about it.

Two Sides Of The Same Bread.
Fun — hormonal; entertainment — neural.

There are no retirement homes for minds — no surprise —
they don’t do anything to retire from.
(Note: they can however, be underemployed which, for a few,
can make their conscious life one of scant entertainment.
The certain man toward his mind must be as a dutiful father to a son;
a profit minded employer, always anxious to kick the deserving upstairs.)

The mental reality on one world confessed: “I’ve about run out of things to say” —
but it lied! — if it was alive — it lied! (Neat, huh!)

One way to spot a man who knows what is really going on
is that he won’t talk about it with people who don’t.
(And one guy’s idea of a mortal paradise is so far removed from everyone else’s
that something might actually come from it.)


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