Who Listens to Your Consciousness? Certainly not you…
The following recordings are from Jan’s final years, when his voice was diminished and he spoke in a low whisper. Some listeners may find these tapes hard to listen to, or difficult to understand. Thus, as another option, transcripts are being made and will be posted.
Otherwise, turn up the volume and enjoy! Those who carefully listened to Jan during this period consider that he spoke plainly and directly to the matter at hand, “pulling out all the stops,” as he understood that these were to be his last messages to his groups, and to posterity.
Summary = See below
Edited Transcript= See Below
Condensed News = See below
News Item Gallery = None
Key Words =
Notes by TK
What bothers the cerebral cortex (the CPB that is you) is the knowledge that it has no life of its own. Consequently, why do men preach to each other (e.g., “you know you shouldn’t smoke”)? Why seek to convert each other to alternative behavior more in accord with the preference of the converter when there is no chance whatever that it will have any effect on the convertee?
Answer: the cortex, having verbal, appropriate scientific knowledge, is trying to see if it can induce some other cortex to have an affect on its brain, because then maybe it can ‘go to school’ on that to have some direct affect on its own brain. Maybe it can, given its evident, technological knowledge, have a direct beneficial influence on its own bodily operations and health that it is innately incompetent at. Preaching to others is a kind of shot-in-the-dark, wishful thinking by the cortex, hoping for a lucky cure to the manifest impotence in its own purview. (54:12) #3156
Notes by DR
Jan Cox Talk 3156 Everything that bothers people non-physically is caused by the known conscious part of the brain. The cortex is the conscious part of the brain-not you. Realizing that is realizing it has no life of its own. It’s incapable of initiating anything. It’s reactionary to something you heard, thought, or read. Why do men preach to each other even in conversation or public service announcements? But there is no successful scared-straight in drinking or smoking. It doesn’t work. It’s the conscious part of someone’s brain trying to see if the conscious part of another person’s brain has any affect on the rest of their brain.
It’s the conscious part knowing that under all ordinary conditions it is a totally mechanical reactionary operation with no life of its own and is unable to initiate anything, except when making some extraordinary effort. The conscious part of the brain knows stuff that would be beneficial and it is trying to get the rest of the nervous system to listen and act on it. Look at medicine. So the conscious part of the brain has an instinct to preach to tell things that that person knows is accepted every where: don’t smoke, don’t drink too much. But do people listen? Why do people do it? People preach to see if the conscious part of another’s brain can do what their own can’t, i.e. act on something that the conscious part of the brain knows would be good for it.
Try to remind yourself that unless you’re trying to do some extraordinary effort like ‘remember yourself’ then the conscious part of the brain is doing nothing but reacting to something heard or read. It’s returning a pong for some other ping.
06-04-2004 # 3156
Edited by S.A.
What I have been describing in these recent talks is beyond a model. A model would say that man is asleep and can wake up, or that your mind exists in a dream world. The description I am using now is literal. You must see for yourself that every non-physical thing that troubles people, other than ill-health, is caused by the conscious part of the brain realizing that it has no life of its own—realizing that under ordinary conditions, the conscious part of the brain is incapable of initiating anything. The brain, along with every other organ, is mechanical. All of the organs operate by instinct. They all have no awareness of their own. The heart, the lungs, the liver, and all the rest have no awareness, and if they do somehow know anything, they can’t talk about it. If they could talk about anything they know, then you’d hear it deep in your stomach, in your chest.
I repeat, the description I am offering now is neither a model nor a metaphor. Everything else is a model, a metaphor, or a symbol. But if you can see what I’m describing, you’ll never again think to yourself, “I was just asleep again. I was staggering around in a dream world again.” You will know exactly what is happening to you—that the conscious part of your brain, which is all the you there is, is acting in its normal, instinctive way, automatically reacting to something that it heard or read, or reacting to a thought that ran through consciousness just prior to the thought consciousness is having now.
Based on that description, our sermon for tonight has to do with why men preach to one another. There is no end to that preaching. You’re bombarded with sermons by friends and by strangers. You can be standing on a street corner, smoking a cigarette and minding your own business, and an absolute stranger will nod at the cigarette and say, “You know you shouldn’t smoke that.” Strangers on television and in newspapers deliver public service announcements to you, and your friends do the same thing in conversation.
Notice, however, that there is no successful “scared straight” in men’s preaching to one another. Commonly, historians, public commentators, or politicians will mention some horrific event. They will point to a recent dictator who was just overthrown. They’ll describe how the people pulled the dictator into the street and stomped him to death with their little feet, then hung his dead body from a telephone pole, poured gas on it, and burned it to ashes. Public commentators will say, “This should give a sobering thought to other would-be dictators and tyrants. Let’s make sure that pictures of this are sent around the world, so as to give a sobering wake-up call to other would-be tyrants.”
Surely you realize that there is no such thing as a sobering thought to a slightly deranged alpha-male wolf who wants to be a dictator. There is a potential Stalin or Saddam Hussein somewhere out there right now. Maybe he’s an army general in some little country, and he’s plotting how to convince his troops to back him so that he can seize power. There has never been one of those would-be dictators in the history of man who looked at the day’s paper and saw a picture of the burning body of another dictator, and said to himself, “Uh oh. Whew! I’m glad I saw that. I have to cancel my plans!” That has never happened and never will happen.
There are books and pamphlets everywhere directed to smokers, showing pictures of lungs eaten up with cancer from smoking. There are pictures of people on their deathbed, weighing eighty-two pounds, their bed sheets covered in blood. There are similar photographs and reports of drinkers with livers so distended from cirrhosis that they look nine months pregnant, but with the pallor of death. You can show those photographs forever to a smoker or a drinker, along with statistics that show there’s a ninety-eight percent certainty that if you smoke or drink constantly for x-number of years, that will kill you. Does that stop anybody?
All of that has no effect, and it is obvious that it has no effect. Wives tell their husbands day after day for thirty years, “Honey, I wish you’d quit drinking. It’s going to kill you.” Does it stop the man? No. Then why do people relentlessly preach to one another when it demonstratively has no effect?
The answer is slicker than deviled ham smothered in mayonnaise. That is the conscious part of everyone’s brain trying to see if the conscious part of other people’s brains might have some effect on the non-conscious parts of those people’s brains. If somebody else can change as a result of being preached at, then maybe the person doing the preaching also can do it. Maybe.
If that’s not plain enough, here it is in vanilla. The reality of being asleep bothers everybody a bit, but bothers people like us enough that we try and do something in order to awaken. In the last couple of talks, I’ve pointed out the simple fact, beyond all models and paradigms and metaphors, of what being asleep is. Being asleep is the conscious part of your brain knowing that under all ordinary conditions, it is a totally mechanical, reactive machine. Consciousness knows that it is unable to initiate anything, except when making the kind of extraordinary effort that people like us have stumbled around trying to do for thousands of years in order to try and stay continually conscious of our own consciousness.
All the techniques are after the same end—waking up, which is the name that somebody before us put on the awareness that the conscious part of the brain, under general conditions, can not have a direct effect on the rest of the brain, and thus on the rest of the nervous system. The most beautiful examples occur in various forms of technology, and specifically in medicine, because medicine can be life-saving. By examining other people’s brains, the conscious part of the brain figured out how the immune system produces antibodies. The conscious part of the brains of one group of medical researchers, examining other people’s immune systems, figured out what antibodies were. The conscious part of their brains formed a verbal model in their heads of how the immune system creates antibodies. The immune system figures out the invaders’ genetic structure, develops a weapon to fit the invaders’ genetic system, and then fires the weapon. End of story. The infection is gone. The sick person is well again.
The next time that one of those medical researchers caught a cold, the conscious part of his brain told the rest of his brain, “You’re not sending out enough antibodies. That’s why my tonsils are inflamed and I’m hoarse. Send out more antibodies and kill these bacteria. That’s your job!” But for all that medical researcher’s trying, the message from the conscious part of his brain to the rest of his brain had no effect on his immune system. When having one part of his brain talk to another part didn’t work, the medical researcher swabbed his own throat, captured some of the infection, and put the infected cells into a Petri dish to grow them. From that growth, he developed the antibody that his own immune system should have produced, drew it up into a needle, injected it into his body, and the antibody killed the bacteria and cured him.
In other words, the conscious part of that man’s brain successfully cured him, but only in a roundabout way, by going outside his body. That is why people pray—because they want to accomplish the same thing. If prayer works, it’s cheaper than going to the doctor, and you don’t have to get injected with an antibody. Antibodies are more reliable than prayer, but prayer should also work. However, you shouldn’t have to imagine that you’re praying to a god.
The conscious part of somebody’s brain knew from the outset that it should be able to talk to the non-conscious part of the brain and convince it to cure an infection, but nobody puts that into words. In a sense, nobody “knows” that—and here I put “knows” in quotation marks. Nobody “knows” that except the conscious part of the brain, which wants to knock on the door of the rest of the brain and say, “Hey, we’re sick! There’s an infection that’s getting out of hand. Send over our immune system’s killer cells and take care of it. If you don’t kill it, it’s going to kill us!”
The conscious part of the brain is aware that it has knowledge that the rest of the brain and body doesn’t have. But consciousness generally doesn’t have the power to use that knowledge in order to cause the rest of its brain and body to react. Sometimes people say that prayer works, and I won’t say they’re wrong, because prayer should work, but prayer should work without going through the rigmarole of having to invent a god in a Petri dish outside of your brain, which is the same thing, in an intangible way, as creating antibiotics.
Normally, the conscious part of your brain has no need to talk to the rest of you. The rest of the brain talks to you automatically, without consciousness being aware of that communication. But now, the conscious part of the brain can learn of a problem through examining an x-ray. Conscious can realize, “I’ve got a malignant growth in my lung, or my liver, or my stomach. If the immune system doesn’t destroy that growth, it will kill me.” The conscious part of the brain can try to tell the rest of the brain, “If you don’t destroy that malignancy, it’s going to kill our whole body and brain. If you can’t stop the malignancy, we’ll have to resort to medical treatments, which give no guarantee of a cure.”
The conscious part of the brain knows the danger that it faces, yet in most cases, the conscious part of the brain is unable to directly tell the rest of the brain, “Make our immune system see to this.” The conscious part of the brain should be able to talk to the rest of the brain. The physical connections are there, so that consciousness has a hotline to the rest of the brain, and directly to the immune system. Consciousness should be able to do this, but it can’t. Inside your own head, you can catch this transpiring at every second. The conscious part of your brain is aware that it knows things that would benefit the totality of you, but that conscious part of your brain can’t get the rest of the brain, and hence the rest of you, to listen.
Let’s return to the subject of one person’s telling other people how to behave. The conscious part of one person’s brain, which is the only part that can talk to anybody else, is the part that preaches to other people. The conscious part of one man’s brain has read enough, seen enough photographs, heard enough lectures to know that continued smoking will very likely damage a person’s respiratory system. At worst, smoking will give a person lung cancer and probably kill him. The conscious part of the brain knows that. Other parts of a smoker’s physiology, including non-conscious parts of the brain, enjoy the effect of nicotine, which is why people smoke. Every time you inhale nicotine, it rushes very quickly into the blood, where it acts similarly to a natural neurotransmitter in the brain. The nicotine plugs into certain synapses in the non-conscious part of the brain, and produces enjoyment. The same thing happens with alcohol, cocaine, and other drugs.
The conscious part of the brain has seen yucky photos of lungs eaten up with cancer, and it thinks, “How could the conscious part of a smoker’s brain look at these pictures and continue to smoke? Maybe they don’t know.” That brain’s conscious part wants to tell anyone it sees smoking, “Do you know that smoking can kill you? Here are the figures. Here’s the research. Look at this photograph of a lung. Even if smoking doesn’t flat-out kill you, do you want that to happen to your lungs?”
The conscious part of the brain in every human has an instinct to preach, which is to tell the conscious part of other people’s brains things that the first person either knows or has reason to believe because they learned about it from some reliable source—things such as you shouldn’t drink, you shouldn’t take drugs, you shouldn’t smoke, you shouldn’t overeat, you shouldn’t eat too much fat, you probably would be better off not eating meat. Things that everyone in the well-read, civilized world now accepts as facts, although they still smoke, drink, overeat, and all the rest. In that case, why do people bother telling someone else not to do those things? Because they want to see if the other person will stop smoking or drinking. They think it’s possible that everyone else in the world has the ability which the conscious part of their own brain lacks.
Each of us assumes that everybody else is reasonably sane, and that if you tell another person, “Hey, there’s a car rushing up behind you! Jump out of the way!” the other person will jump. If an ordinary person says to another ordinary person who is a smoker, “This is what smoking will do to you,” they want to see if the conscious part of the other ordinary person’s brain has the ability to absorb the new information, pull out their pack of cigarettes, and throw them into the gutter. The conscious part of everybody’s brain is shocked and dismayed over the fact that it knows things that it can’t get the rest of its own brain to listen and respond to. That conscious part wants to offer the information to other people, to see if another person’s brain can do what their own brain can’t do, because if that is possible, then making the effort to communicate with the non-conscious part of that person’s own brain would seem to be worthwhile.
Let’s say that something inside you tells you to quit drinking—not your mother, not some doctor on television, not your guilty conscience, and not God, but the conscious part of your brain. That conscious part of your brain is the only thing that we know of in the universe that talks. It’s certainly the only part of your body that knows things and can talk about them. Ordinary people call this their better self, their voice of reason, their conscience—but even if you tell a stranger on the street that smoking is bad for him, and he responds, “You’re right. I know I shouldn’t smoke,” and he looks a bit sheepish, he doesn’t really mean it. He might as well say, “The rational part of me, the sensible part, the part of me that my mother raised right—that part already knew this long before you told me, because my mother always warned me not to ever take up smoking. Yet I still smoke.”
As recently as the nineteen-fifties, several cigarette companies had ads showing men dressed up as doctors in white coats promoting smoking. For several years, one of the companies had a sales pitch that said that eight out of ten doctors who smoke recommend whatever brand it was. That is a fact. I was alive and saw it. Nobody back then was advertising the fact that smoking was unhealthy, but let’s say that you run across somebody who still has never heard that smoking is bad for your health. They live out in the woods, and you’re out hiking one day and accidentally show up at their door. You talk to them for a while, and they light a cigarette, and you say, “You know that smoking is bad for you, don’t you?” They’re not going to say, “I guess you’re right.” They’ll think you’re crazy, because they get pleasure from smoking. Smoking is pleasurable. Smoking makes the brain smile. But once a person knows and accepts that smoking is bad, then shouldn’t we be amazed that despite what he now knows, he keeps on smoking?
People preach to one another because they want to see if the other person can do what they themselves can’t do. People want to see if anybody else—or maybe everybody else—can do the rational thing that they themselves should be doing but can’t manage to do, which is to make the rest of their brain and nervous system react appropriately to what the conscious part of their brain knows is best for them. That is why everybody keeps preaching to everybody else.
Do you care if a stranger smokes or drinks? No, you don’t care—unless you can tell him smoking will kill him, and he instantly stops smoking. Then you want to grab him by the lapels and yell, “How did you do that? How? How?” You’d be like Diogenes, but instead of searching for a truthful man, you’d be searching for a man who is able to do what the conscious part of everyone’s brain knows is the right thing to do. If you finally encounter such a man, and he says, “I’m glad you’ve told me alcohol is bad for me,” and he pushes his drink away and says, “I’ll never drink again,” you would beg him to let you in on the secret of how he accomplished that. He might reply, “You told me it was bad for me, so what else was I to do? Why would I do something that I know is bad for me?”
Do you see the humor in that? Somebody searches for twenty years and finally finds a person who, as soon as the conscious part of his brain heard information that conflicted with his present behavior, was able to instantly change his behavior. The searcher congratulates himself, because he has finally found someone who can do what the searcher, and everybody else, should be doing. The searcher asks the other man how he accomplished that, but all the other man can tell him is, “How could I not? I am not suicidal. If I know that smoking is going to kill me, of course I have to stop.”
Let’s say that you are a smoker. The conscious part of your brain knows that you should stop smoking. You, who are the king of your bodily kingdom, send word throughout your kingdom, “This is the conscious part of your brain talking. Don’t you dare smoke another cigarette! Fingers, don’t you dare to reach for another cigarette, because I, the king order you to never smoke again.” Once it knows that smoking is bad for it, the conscious part of everybody’s brain shouts, “Attention all the rest of my kingdom, all the rest of my body’s components! From now on in this kingdom we will no longer smoke. Ever!” Consciousness, the smartest thing we know in the entire universe, sends out word throughout its kingdom, “Don’t dare to smoke ever again!” And what happens? Nothing. That’s what I call having a hobby.
I should note that this talk is a variation of the stronger example that I’ve been using, which is that the conscious part of your brain has been shown on an x-ray that you have a cancerous tumor in your body. Your body and the non-conscious part of your brain don’t seem to be aware of the tumor, or else surely they would not have let the tumor keep growing. Now that the conscious part of your brain knows it, the conscious part tries to tell the rest of the body to get rid of the tumor, but can’t communicate the knowledge.
Regarding this discussion, I offer you my strongest encouragement. Try and feel that it’s not you thinking, but a very small part of your brain. You have to remind yourself, and to do that, you have to use words, but what you want to capture is a feeling. The feeling is not you daydreaming, not you thinking, not even you saying. In the same way, it’s not me saying that it’s not you thinking. The thing in me that is saying that it’s not you thinking is a particular part of my brain known by neuroscientists and a good many literate, knowledgeable people. I recommend that you actually try and picture that thin gray layer, the cerebral cortex, wrapped like a little skull cap around that more-or-less round white ball of the rest of your brain. That thin layer is Control Central. That’s what regulates all of the systems that keep you alive. Nothing talks to the cerebral cortex and tells it to do its job, but the cerebral cortex does all of your talking and thinking, all of everybody’s talking and thinking. That is you, so you need to get over this “you” thing. Try to keep reminding yourself, “It’s not me thinking. It’s a specific and fairly small part of my brain. That part is trying to make the rest of my brain come under its control.” If you try just a little bit to see this for yourself, you will fall in love with it, and something will happen to you.
Being unaware of this is all that being asleep is. People like us are trying to do something about that, and it is challenging. “Challenging” sounds better than “seemingly futile.” How about “oft-times futile”? That’s better. Frequently futile. Alliteration’s always got kind of a comfy feel. It’s frequently futile. That’s much better.
At least we try, and something can be done, because the conscious part of the brain is not one-hundred-percent mechanical, but only about ninety-nine point nine percent mechanical. That one little non-mechanical piece allows the brain to develop such things as technology, medicine, art, and language, and even to invent gods. That one tiny part allowed our forefathers to come up with the idea of trying to continually remember the word, “om,” or to constantly see the face of Buddha, or to count your breath. All of that is the same thing, which is to try and remind yourself that unless you’re making some extraordinary effort, the conscious part of your brain does nothing but spin off from something you just heard or read, returning a pong for some other ping.
The conscious part of your brain does not do anything on its own. The closest you come to that is trying to remember yourself, trying to constantly say, “ommmm,” and so on. Anything to keep the conscious part of the brain from doing what it otherwise does, which is to be hit and hit again. The conscious part of the brain is like a dog in traffic, being hit on the head over and over by cars going by. The problem is that the dog is addicted to those hits. That is the nature of the conscious part of the brain. That’s the only reason you call somebody on the phone or turn on the TV or pick up a book or a newspaper. You don’t want to be informed. You’re not interested in keeping up with the news. The news don’t mean a thing to your life. You’re just a dog looking for a car to graze his head, looking for something to go “ping” so that you can go “pong.”
That is sickening. I say that on your behalf, until you see it. I’m sick of it on your behalf. I’ve been sick of it for years on my own behalf, so, since I’m not going to die for your sins, I’ll be sick on your behalf, for the state of the conscious part of your brain. But soon you will have to take over that irritation.
Jan’s Daily Fresh Real News (to accompany this talk)
WHAT IS COMFORTABLE TO THE MANY
IS TOO COMFORTABLE FOR THE FEW
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Outlier’s Guide To Profitably Roughing It
JUNE 4, 2004 © 2004: JAN COX
As perverse as it sounds: men receive pleasure from the horrific events
that occur in their lives — for the unrealized reason that it affords them a brief respite from their familiar emotions and thoughts — something they would not normally experience if it were left to them to willfully provide,
(such being an activity pursued exclusively by the nervous-system-rebel
trying to get-to-the-bottom-of-things);
ergo ordinary humanity’s historical taste for emotionally and mentally disturbing stories from their fairy tales to their religions and contemporary news reporting;
in addition to man (same as other life forms) being programmed to live a
physical life of habit, he also has a non physical desire for the new,
though not strong enough in routine men to cause them to individually pursue same;
they ordinarily satisfy their limited need via public distractions that they call entertainment and education (which is watching someone else athletically do
what you cannot, or giving voice to ideas you would never have had),
but they are not instilled individually with a sufficient hunger to escape the confines
of the emotions and thoughts with which they find themselves automatically filled;
only a few people are born with an unconventional wiring and programming which motivates and makes possible a private, quite personal pursuit of the internal, intangible new & different adequately intense to override the inner status quo
normal to your genetic temperament.
The certain man’s special, singular pleasure comes from his one specific effort:
not to be simply the emotions and their dictated thoughts that are natural to him,
(which in rebel talk is to say): imprisoning and stupefying.
Such an uncommon person knows of but one horrific event in their life:
to remain as they naturally are.
On an ancient, far away field, said to have been the scene of colossal rebel battles,
in the sand — writ in blood are the words:
“To only mine enemies do my true nature I reveal.”
He-who-knows understands that it cannot be otherwise;
in the ordinary areas of mind and emotions: friends are fatal, the familiar, lethal;
few ever fully grasp that the real rebellion is only against one’s own nature;
it is in fact the model for the proverbial notion of being hoisted by one’s own petard — but in this instance, being blown up & destroyed in a positive albeit uncommon sense.
Only a man who knows will point out that all of the so called great ones
(men who supposedly got it) got it on their own;
no teacher; no one they quote or refer to; without anyone’s help — they got it!
And the inference being…………..well, now that’s obvious —
which is why the fakers never mention this,
but instead insist on your need for assistance (such as theirs).
“Tell me straight: is all of that true for everybody?”
Can you really think that anything is true for everybody?
“Uhh….well….I guess not.”
Except for one thing.
Once upon a planet far away, the creatures created the concept of religion,
and moral right & wrong just as a joke,
but as time went by, humor began to frighten them, and they…..well,
you can surely piece together what happened from there.
(Perhaps in a retaliatory move their local deity later claimed the same thing had occurred concerning his setting up of their ability to think,
[a comment which was promptly denounced by some as sour grapes on his part,
and a transparent attempt to distract from the flaws of his creation.])
Ordinary thought can see it all — or: put it all together — but not both at once.
A rebel’s inner friends are his worst enemies;
all emotions and thoughts that support the ways you naturally feel and think
could not be more damaging;
relying on what you know to be true will keep you from The Truth;
passively accepting the ideas and emotions that reflexively issue from your
nervous system not only supports the stability & authority of your sense of a self,
but for the certain man it also has a downside (to wit):
doing so supports the stability & authority of your normal sense of a self.
Since they are not explainable through standard medical means,
one man attributes his many mental anomalies to imperceptible stress fractures
in the conscious part of his brain.
And in sports news: The ranking of The Gooey Glob team was radically altered
upon them becoming The Rigid Rockets.
In city show biz lingo: A bit of irony always helps a second rate act get by.
One man notes: “All you can do when the guy sitting next to you on a plane, bus or train says that he’s: on-a-mission — is hope he’s joking.”
Just as a happily married person would never take a: Are You Happily Married quiz,
so too does an actually awakened man never ask himself if he is awake.
Taking a cue from one of opera’s features he particularly enjoys:
a man started requiring that his ordinary mind think & speak to him in a
foreign language which he doesn’t understand.
(“Makes sense to me,” muttered Minneapolis Meaty.)
One chap with an apparent affinity for popular music was heard singing to himself:
“I’m so vain,
I bet I think these thoughts are about me…”
Another installment of: Do You Get It?
One man periodically examines every square inch of his property in minute detail;
he has no land; no possessions, not even a permanent place of residence — yet:
such matters do not deter his endeavor.
Something you never hear in the minds or mouths of ordinary men is:
“The illusion of fun is still fun.”
(Probably because that statement is too close to, you know — that other one.)
One city does not allow anything you must ask for,
and one human system will not produce anything you must seek;
(wanner waste your time guessing where this city is and what system is referred to?)
Overlook life’s omnipresent forms of self protection and insure yourself of
blindness & confusion.
Irony: A two eyed view of a 3-D world.
A Tip: Both Krispy And Kreamy.
If you donut keep track, you donut have to count — and make a fool of yourself.
For the aspiring rebel: If you donut talk about what has happened to you —
more new stuff can.
Do not overlook the benefits of anti gravity scalp & hair products.