Much Talk—Little Impact
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Notes by TK
Civilization = talk. Thinking = talk. Talk is the vast majority of activity occurring in an ordinary civilized man’s brain. Yet that majority activity has little if any impact on a man’s life! It is mostly gossip and talk about other’s talk. The technological, problem-solving and impacting activity is a tiny minority of brain activity. Talk likened to a safety mechanism protecting against the great void (imagine a void like that of deep space w/o any stars) of the source of the universe.
Talk-show fascination is based not on the visual of it, but the audio, the word content of the people on display. The visual is almost like an adjunct of the truly important role of talk. Consider: what is talk’s purpose? (46:09) #3137
Jan’s Daily Fresh Real News (to accompany this talk)
WHERE CAN FEET LEAD THAT UNKNOWINGLY TREAD ON THEMSELVES
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Tracking The Only Trail True For The Few
APRIL 21, 2004 © 2004: JAN COX
Only sheep believe that issues in their life have made them what they are.
Soggy slop makes pigs swine and being unusually tall, men lengthy.
Hormones accept what they are in quiet while the very nature of neurons
is to snipe at themselves.
This plays out as a unified whole thus:
the north pole is incessantly trying to get the rest of the planet to fit into
its image of what it should be:
the neural end of the nervous system continually talking
(often indirectly and in camouflaged terms)
to the non thinking hormonal areas — exhorting them to change their ways.
“Are we dealing here with suggestions being given to the deaf,
or to the in-alterable?”
To the real-deal-man, committed to getting to the bottom of all questions:
it doesn’t matter;
step by step as he moves along he sees for the present what must be done —
and he does it — end of story — until the next time.
(“I figure that must be one of the real joys in being such a man:
not being hemmed in by even the illusion of choice.”)
One man’s diagnosis:
“People do not drink-to-forget any more than they sleep-to-be-stupid” —
at which point all the sleepers shouted: “Barkeep! — another round!”
Those still being called by the past don’t have as far to go as you might think.
Those who don’t get it are by nature inclined/given to think that either: it can’t be got, or else nobody alive now can do it.
When you’re a regular prune in the pack you accept as natural the way
everyone is packed in;
the wrath of gods is not near as dangerous as vegetables.
In a peculiar way on the physical level:
some people find it profitable to be unattractive;
question: who shudders on behalf of unborn synapses in contemplating
this potential scenario on the mental level?”
(“Are you suggesting that some men enjoy being stupid?”
Does sound a bit harsh, doesn’t it:
perhaps: uninformed would be a more polite term.)
People will applaud damn near anything.
This email just in from a reader:
“I have come to the conclusion: If the situation described, sounds harsh — it IS harsh.
I will probably in the future regret it being thus, but right this moment
I am able to see it so.
(P.S. Is it possible at times to be more enlightened than you actually are?)
Non Standard Medical Definition.
Intellectuals In The Collective Context: Occipital lobe leeches.
Herds are smarter than individual cows.
“But not by much, right?!”
Not by much.
An ant colony has its own plans and intelligence to execute same;
ants satisfied to be there are perforce content with what they seem to know —
which to them seems adequate,
but which strikes a few odd ones as completely fraudulent in that
although the physical well being of the colony is the physical well being of each ant, the info available to them collectively gives nothing of mental value to the individual.
Herds and colonies exist also in the land of neurons.
In city affairs: a well placed, timely, “because” can solve a multitude of problems,
and let everyone off the stupid hook.
On one world: in some sort of effort to encourage-mental-creativity,
they would, whenever executing intellectuals, blindfold the firing squad.
(“Hey! — hold up! — you’ve finally done one that I almost get!”
Barkeep! — hit us over here, one more time.)
In politics: candidates want to be seen as outsiders
if they believe the electorate is ready to throw out the current officeholders:
the nervous system rebel holds a similar attitude toward his position vis a vis
his neural populace.
One man had his name changed to Tommy
so as to be a more fitting mental companion to his half brother Rot.
Patting the bulge in his coat ominously:
another guy gave himself ten minutes to get out of town.
The man who wakes up doesn’t die from what kills everyone else.
Hearing that being cold won’t give you a cold spurred one man to making even more strenuous efforts to be hot.
If you can’t yet do it, start thinking about it — relentlessly! —
and without mentioning it to anyone.
A father advised a son: “Don’t even let yourself know the extent of your knowledge.”
On the fields of city neural combat:
the greatest amount of saber rattling is done by the empty handed.
When one man heard it said: “only sissies cry” — he stopped in his tracks! —
he heard it to say: “Only sissies have anything to cry about!”
The great Human Drama is played out in an ongoing, infinite number of acts;
the view however from the certain man‘s seat reveals gross redundancy.
The difference between knowing what’s going on,
and ordinary ignorance passing for intelligence
is that the latter has its limits.
A Mirror Never Realized.
Intelligence is one of your reflections.
One man in the city says that if he allows his thoughts to run down the full list of possibilities — he runs into trouble:
not the kind that physically hurts you or causes you financial damage,
but another type of really peculiar trouble.
Note: What bothers a prisoner in his cell loses its force on the outside.
“Does this explain why you are only dazed and confused when you aren’t realizing
that you are?”
In man’s intangible reality: You cannot drown except when you are imagining water.
“In brief flashes I sometimes suspect that being awake is way simpler than
I normally believe,”
briefs or boxers: it’s all the same,
and whenever orders were being taken, one man would always call out:
“Give me whatever life’s having!”