Jan Cox Talk 3343

Symbolic World Has No Future If It Has No Word for It


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

If you have no word for “future,” do you have a future? There are two worlds: the world of people and things and the world of symbols, consisting of words and concepts. There is a future corresponding to each. The doings and predictions of the symbolic world have no applicability to the material one. There’s no arguing with a heart attack; no gainsaying and Monday morning quarterbacking will change the course of physical events. The physical world has a future. The symbolic world HAS NO future if it has no word for it. (24:00) #3342

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

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Pertinent Clues For Those Clearly On-The-Case
AUGUST 24, 2005 © 2005 JAN COX

The mental area of every ordinary man’s brain could genuinely say about the thoughts that automatically appear therein:
“I get them wholesale – no, make that free – and they’re shipped directly here to me whether I order them or not;
I guess if you wanted to you could say that I am supplied by some sort of
strong-arm, mental mafia.”
(“Oh stop it! — you’re breaking my heart.”)
Fact: No one pities a creature’s natural condition;
who is saddened that a zebra has nothing to wear but stripes? –
or that a carp can do nothing but swim?
(Okay: Fact Recount: No one but man pities his own natural condition.
Question: How is it feasible for man to be dumber than a carp?)

From one chap’s house is frequently heard a shout: “We’re all in this together,”
a matter that may not sound very interesting – until you know that he lives alone.

“Everybody hates a monopoly – except the King and all his subjects.”
“But who else is there?”
“Those who must ask won’t ever know.”

One man wished his personal motto was: “Live life like you mean it,”
(but learned it was already taken).

At Home Delivery.
Whenever one guy’s ever-pregnant mind delivers another new and exciting thought,
he will shout: “Doctor! – my water just broke!”

If an ipse dixit artist is not satisfied with his work,
the simplest solution is to offer to explain its meaning.

Anything that is clear to you but not to others, is always of potential use
in the mental revolution.

One humble-seeming little feller who was constantly ribbed by his cohorts at work
for being so quiet and never joining in their lively political and sports debates
around the office water cooler, finally one day shot back:
“If god had wanted me to have opinions, he would have given me some.”
(Rumors circulate that he had a brother who was killed two years ago at home as the result of
a droll explosion.)

Nothing has the humor potential of the inevitable.

One reason the neural revolution is so inexpensive to mount & maintain is that it does not incur the kinds of expenses common to most activities (for instance):
it does not employ, nor could it even make use of such services as: advertising,
public relations, financial planning, psychological counseling, legal representation,
or lobbying government representatives;
the inner resistance is a private turtle without a shell.

Cried out a man in a tree in city park:
“The past is finished – done for – all washed up,
and now is the perfect time to forget it.”

Whenever one ole sorehead would hear a person say in response to another’s explanation for something questionable they had done:
“I can’t say’s I blame you,” the sourpuss would think:
“Well you just ain’t tryin’.”

Every morning one guy would start the day by posing before a full length mirror,
arms out, palms quizzically upturned as he smilingly cooed to his reflection:
“Are we not handsome!” Then one morn he changed it and said instead:
“Are we not brilliant,” and for the first time, his image responded: “Don’t push it.”

Just as painters are struck dumb when asked what one of their non-representational works “means” – so too might a nervous-system-rebel be non-plussed by
the attempt to tell what anything means.
(P.S. Just after writing up this news item, a passing stranger glanced at same and said:
“If things don’t mean what they mean – then they don’t mean shit.”
You know, it’s fairly uninteresting what you can’t learn even from strangers,
if they don’t pass by quickly enough.)
Knowing stuff that is extraordinary and trying to appear extraordinary
are entirely different things; indeed, the latter can cancel out the former.

Men seated at tables, discussing city affairs are given to shouting at waiters:
“More of the same over here! – much more! — and keep it coming!” —
while a rebel in the same milieu would be looking for a quick way out.

One man says that he’s waited so long by the gates-of-anticipation
that he now no longer remembers what it was he originally expected.
The times that buses come along in the city are determined by the amount of
profane thoughts directed at them in the minds of those impatiently awaiting them,
and when not that, by the cotton-candy, bunny-rabbit daydreams of those
imagining where they will go once the bus does arrive;
all in all: quite a schedule – quite a route.
(“Pa pa, in the typical human brain are the synaptic streets in a grid or irregular layout?
That could make a significant difference, no!?”)

Re Matters Apparently Literatim.
The rebel author’s proper use of the Preface would be to up-front promise the typical reader that what they will be getting is what they normally expect, and then he’d go on to write whatever he pleased. (The routine mind doesn’t mind such ploys.)
(“Luke, ain’t that the same thing Uncle Elroy used to do to us as kids whenever he’d talk to us!”
A real-deal revolutionist could figger a way to do this just inside his own mental machinery.)

A man what don’t look in a mirror ain’t got nuthin’ to hide.

Observes one man:
“Here’s the view from my inner easy chair:
man got off on the skewed foot and became distractingly fascinated by the power which words could wield over his life after realizing the astounding impact the notion
and naming of God — which his mind had created — then had on his thinking;
from my personal perspective, since then, everything unique about man has been going (if not downhill) at least in a confused and rambling pattern;
it seems to me that when you cannot distinguish between being shot and someone shouting: ‘Bang!’ – you’ve got problems. Course that’s just my take on it.”


Jan’s Daily
Mental-Grain-Separator News
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