Consciousness Easily Distracted From Self-study by own Storytelling
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Notes by TK
The hardest thing in the universe: consciousness trying to study itself. The reason: consciousness by its nature is an incorrigible raconteur, a storyteller. First it weaves stories about how its physical environment could be (science & technology results); then, when not so involved, it weaves fairy tales about how people could be (culture—religion, psychology, philosophy, etc.—results). When consciousness remembers its aim to study itself, it is instantly distracted into more storytelling. (34:17) #3187
Jan’s Daily Fresh Real News (to accompany this talk)
A REST HOME MAY NOT BE THE BEST HOME FOR THE FEW
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The Eternal Traveler’s Endless Guide
AUGUST 16, 2004 © 2004: JAN COX
One man says: “My favorite people are those who, when something unusual happens in their life and you ask them how it came to occur (and you’re not actually interested) will brush it away and say: “It’s not worth talking about.
(God! — what great and scarce people!”)
Virility & Finality.
Conclusions were the original inspiration for impotency.
(“Help! – I’ve come to the end of an idea and now can’t get-it-up!”)
“Only being serious about stuff can drive you crazy.”
“You mean only being serious about crazy stuff?!”
“Don’t you wish!”
What is man’s greatest contribution? — Public Service Announcements:
whereby men who’ve organized into a group,
proclaim to other men what would be best for them to do.
(Let’s see chimpanzees and dolphins match that!)
Ordinary man’s biggest responsibility is to — fall in line.
One man is saving up to be a plain-living hermit.
(He says just the planning of what not to take with him has been a real eye popper.)
(“I have a question: Can the collection of minuses result in an ultimate positive?”)
Possibly spurred by an earlier gent’s cry, another man shouts:
“Help! – I’ve fallen into my consciousness and I can’t get out!”
After following the show to the edge of town, then slipping in under his tent,
a lad begged the combination sage & rebel travel agent to answer one question:
“Is anybody even close?”
None but dogs and man will try to eat while sick.
(“And I assume you refer to more than physical food.”)
One night during the recent Philosopher’s Convention an attendee climbed on the bar, drink held high and proclaimed:
“Leaving footprints on the beach is no proof you can swim,”
a comment that so swept up his mates in the swirl of the moment that they
instantly named a drink after their exuberant colleague: the Harvey Brainbanger.
What more precise example of man at his verbal/mental best than a well known
public figure who, when asked his favorite literary work of all time,
without irony replied: “My autobiography.”
One man’s query of the day: “What’s the use in having a part of the brain that can talk
if it can’t give me useful verbal orders?”
(He said that from past experience he knew better than to wait around for a meaningful response.)
Overall, life little favors originality.
(“Hey – it’s hard enough just pretending to be me.”)
A city service is not fraudulent as long as men still call upon it.
(From the rebel-camp-perspective however, it can have overstayed its expediency.)
“When I was a child I wore disgusting diapers,
which retained my excrement even while on me;
but now that I am grown, I have traded them for intellectual recognition.”
Consciousness has the ability (when its own persona’s self-interest is involved)
to find whatever occurs to somehow make-sense.
To skunks, the aroma that trails them seems logical.
Few are the creatures who can break out of their adult cocoon.
(“Few as in: one? – the awakened man?!”)
There is a fine line separating everything from everything else –
so fine in fact that it exists only in man’s consciousness.
When (as is the norm ) you see mud as the result of water overrunning dirt,
you will never fully grasp the reality of movement;
you will see intangible conflicts between humans as being conflicts between
humans — and not what it actually is:
all-in-all: your mental perception of mortal existence will be like a precise photograph of a realm whose reality is an impressionist watercolor.
Two eyes are better than one – for physical sight;
two I’s for incorporeal perception however – presents a case of extreme however.
At some points: living in your head can be worse than being dead.
The ole man said to the kid:
“Always remember: Confession is good for nothing.”
(When the shooting group ran out of clay pigeons, they started sending up proverbs.)
Message found scrawled on a lab door: “Growth never repents.”
Revolutionist Reality Check.
If you are trying to imitate someone – you’re not a rebel.
(“But if you acted exactly like someone awake, wouldn’t you then be awake?”
Okay, but an awake man wouldn’t be imitating anyone.
Whenever one man would be critically quizzed about something he had previously said, he would respond: “Well – you caught me! I lied –
yes sir, I lied and you caught me at it: simple as that.”
(Which threw off not only everyone else, but also the most important listener as well.)
The designs for Rio’s funny farms are always drawn in Oslo.
(“You simply can’t allow people like that to get too close to themselves,” noted the doctor in charge.)
The Justice Of It.
The answer to all questions a lion may have are always lionese;
the answer to all of men’s questions about their intangible selves are non existent,
so as not to disrupt the mortal situation.
The kid said to the ole man:
“Sometimes I think you and I have been the same entity from the very beginning…”
“But would never have realized it had we not for so long conversed as though
“So is it a matter that trying to picture Istanbul while still in Paris
eventually makes you more appreciative of Paris?”
“More like it finally causes a few men like us just to accept the fact that
they are in Paris.”
“And that’s a big deal?”
“Not big or small – just the only deal the certain few need.”
A man concerned that you take what he says solemnly is at best an unwitting comedian.