Jan Cox Talk 3029

Consciousness Doesn’t Go Anywhere—Thoughts Do


Summary = See below
Condensed News = See below
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Transcript = None
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Notes by TK

There is a difference between thought and consciousness: thought is mechanical and tied to local conditions. All techniques of mindfulness are equivalent to giving thought a focus, to keep it occupied, thus leaving one able to explore consciousness. Why have these survived and remained popular for thousands of years despite having minimal, if any, permanent effect? Because it brings one right up to the brink of separating thought from consciousness.

Consciousness doesn’t go anywhere; thoughts do. That is what makes them powerful effectors of technology. //incomplete// due to looping, defective disc from approx. 30:00 to end. (61:19) #3029

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

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Keeping Certain Neural Connections Moist Since 1555
August 13, 2003 © 2003: JAN COX

On a far away planet in a far away galaxy, a far time ago,
it is said that whenever one group was attacked and subjugated by another,
and moved in slavery from their place of origin, that after several generations of
such captivity they would begin to concoct a history and lost culture for themselves that never existed — and then treat it as though they remembered it.
Legend further holds that when creatures from this world began to settle on others they brought with them this practice which gave rise in the new locations to the idea that an individual’s personal temperament had a history and cultural cause.

On a far away level in a completely opposite direction
some hormones heard this story, glanced upward knowingly,
and nodded their understanding thereof.

There is a story to go along with everything in the lives of humans
that beavers can’t sink their teeth in;
humans have a story to explain the origins of everything they talk about,
including the things that were not there until they talked about them;
man’s mind makes up endless stories to serve as proof of the existence of things which the other parts of him cannot see;
there is even a story to explain the stories — you’ve just read it.

* * *

A man ponders: “Is the question of whether or not you are oblivious to
what is going on like the one surrounding suspicious deaths (that is):
in which instance can you still have a prosecutable case of murder:
even when you don’t have a body, or: even when you don’t have a suspect?
As brilliant as they can be in certain areas, what can the neurons —
trapped in the swampy waters of the brain in which they were born —
ever comprehend about themselves? —
even though the prime thrust of their life is tree cutting,
what can beavers’ teeth ever know of teeth?”
The speaker paused as he stroked his chin — then added:
“When the pond life of man is seen from the unconventional perspective
so natural to me, it does make for an interesting ponder:
‘Is the glassy eyed mental state common to man
a case of a previous, better state being murdered, if so: where is the perpetrator?

It is not surprising that humanity collectively claims there to be great benefit in: ‘knowing-yourself,’ but what is curious is that none among them shows any sign that they understand the reality behind the words they say.”

If you want a dam built — call an engineer:
if you want a murder committed — leave it to beaver.

* * *

One man opines: “If being civilized was really as great as everyone
constantly claims it to be, people wouldn’t have to keep talking about it.”
Being civilized (it being at core a mental phenomenon in the symbolic sense
intended herein) is most unusual in that: being so can make you more intelligent,
but can also make you dumber;
living a life with only the thoughts that occur in your mind automatically,
and which are the same ones spoken of by everyone else
(“living-in-the-city,” as commonly called here),
is akin to picking up a pair of glasses and wearing them for the rest of your life,
looking through which gives your mind a softer picture of life —
at least a less brutish one — an inner impression that life can be better,
(read: more-comfortable for the ones saying “better” [read: man for, “ones”]),
while at the same time these spectacles-of-civilization make life seem more brutish,
humans even more dangerous, and the likelihood of human existence becoming
worse instead of better;
the perfunctory civilizing of man’s nervous system via the consciousness in its brain is: an-instrument-for-all-seasons –a source of all reasons —
for the many things men talk about and take seriously that bewilder beavers.
Ergo, viz, thus (as with everything else in the Grand Intangible City Of Inner Man): the ophthalmologist who aids your vision also pokes your eye/I out.

* * *

Once the clouds left The Garden and could speak, they said to the soil:
“Now wind us up so we can — run forever.”
Everything said about thought & speech is likewise said about instinct & silence.
And one man ruminated:
“Does being civilized keep wild animals from coming in your house —
or does it disincline you from going outdoors? —

plus: how well can I use this question,
knowing that I am not actually talking about animals or houses?”


A son said to a father: “Don’t you care at all, my opinion of you?”
“If I did, you’d have no interest in what I tell you.”


A dying, but increasingly perceptive man thought:
“What a drag: to be dying just when I’m becoming more awake than ever……….hummm, okay,
but I could also retrospectively note:
What an experience to be so asleep even while I was becoming more asleep than ever.

The beauty of it all just never ceases.”