Jan Cox Talk 3346

Rebel Can Never Listen to the Meaningless Conclusions of His Mind

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8/31/05:
Notes by TK

Clichés, proverbs and folk wisdom are attempted explanations of life. All gossip is the seeking of explanations. Nobody sees that all explanations are inconclusive and ultimately unsatisfying, despite their acceptance. The implication: all conclusions of the mind are meaningless, i.e., they don’t explain anything. Therefore the rebel doesn’t listen to his mind. (35:33) #3346

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

TRUE FREEDOM IS REAL THINKING
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Efficient Man’s Way Out
AUGUST 31, 2005 © 2005 JAN COX

In his mind, one man pretends to be an impassive lordly lion, indifferent to the everyday occurrences which so annoy humans and complicate their inner life,
and even when irritations do overwhelm him and he can’t pull off the act,
in an unconventional part of his brain he will still pretend to,
via a good natured acknowledgment of his instant inability to do so.

An extraordinary man is always prepared for the ordinary,
it is only the ordinary who are upset by ordinary events (ranging from death,
to a stain on their new shirt).
What is truly extraordinary about the extraordinary man is that he is aware that
his regular, natural-born-mind is disturbed by such occurrences, but that his extraordinary one doesn’t care that his normal one is.

A King, on an uncharted expedition, and fearful of what might lie before him,
directed a reluctant aide to go ahead and scout the terrain, and when he returned
he gave this report:
“I have been west and I have been east;
I have looked high and I have looked low;
I have checked here, and I have checked there,
and I am prepared to state unequivocally that: Everything is in its place.”

Whenever he wants to make his dog happy, one man makes cat noises,
which drives the canine into delirious fits of playful excitement,
and when he wants to make his ordinary mind get irrationally giddy, he’ll say to it:
“I know I can always count on you.”

On one world, a lack of competence can be partially compensated for by simply changing the description of the faux pas.

One lad who loves to play pretend-reporter will sometimes hold an imaginary microphone up to his mind and in a whispered, pseudo-urgent voice intone:
“I will now try to speak with one of the survivors of that terrible crash…”

As he moseyed around the lake, a man mused:
“Is any information truly new if it makes reference to past assumptions?”
(Which might prove as prickly a puzzler as the ancient one: “Why did the chicken cross his legs?”)

One man had an affliction;
the diagnosis listed it as incurable,
but noted that with certain treatments (and a bit of luck) it could be put into remission;
from this description, he at first thought it to be cancer,
but gradually came to realize that the ill was: being-of-ordinary-mind.

Over in one land (where the sky sometimes catches fire) is a man who is so enamored of
and impressed by his self that he believes he is him reincarnated.

Under ordinary conditions your thinking is giving real-time verbal interpretation of
what your nervous-system is feeling that is important enough to warrant attention,
or else it is just drifting and dreaming;
the certain few create within themselves, uncommon neural circumstances whereby
a third possibility comes into play.

More Helpful City Hints Hunkered Amidst Conversational Fragments.
“The trick is in how you say it.”
“No, the trick is in how you do it.”
“But if you say it just right – you don’t even have to bother with doing it.”

After some years of experiencing the uncommon company of the self-activated, unconventional part of his conscious brain, a man to it said:
“With a friend like you, who needs external acquaintances.”

One ole sorehead shopper surmises: “When you cut through all the hoopla,
the best deal that Life offers man can be summed up in the sales slogan:
‘Get two for the price of two.’”

If you know how to find it — and are interested in finding it — there is an unfrequented, internal place whereat listening and talking aren’t all that different.

Noted one special-investigator to his son:
“What ordinary minds find fascinating are but pieces of the puzzle –
my gawd! what they’d feel if they ever saw the whole thing!”

You know you’re in second-reality when men can commit public suicide
and the news accounts never mention the cause-of-death.
In the city it can be difficult to distinguish a bus from its exhaust.

In a strict rebel sense, even a blind man has two places to look.
(“But pa pa, in the city isn’t there two of everything!?”)

Fuses by the gross is how one awkward fellow purchased them, who seemed to be forever blowing them out in minor household accidents; then one day after such an episode, his wife confronted him: “Being as inept as you are in certain regards,
I believe you purposefully cause these short circuits just so you can rush to
replace the fuse and thus give the appearance of having some talent as a handyman, (rather than a bungleman),” and after the startled husband absorbed this,
he pulled her up close and said: “Okay, you got me, but the reason I have carried on this façade was to teach our son an important lesson” –
a curious statement, in that they were childless.
(Or as they say in Goobestaan: “Is it absolutely necessary that you have a pubic to have a pubic hair.”)

The nearer you get to the end of the sentence,
the more that ordinary people begin to suffer period-phobia.

J