THOSE OLDIES, BUT YUCKIES,
                        OR:
           HE PLAYED HIS HUNCHES, 
         AND AVOIDED THE BUNCHES. 
                      _________
 
 
 

On the oldies music circuit,
an act called, The X-ers, 
(a vocal group from the ‘50’s),
can be presented with plainly none of the original members present, and still be accepted by the audience,
while a singles act from the same period, Bobby Y,
cannot pull the same stunt;
the solo artist must actually appear, and perform. 

        This physical reality is an external reflection of a certain 
   intangible situation within each man’s mental booking agency.
 
 

The larger be the example of pretend-reality
the more readily will man’s mind pretend to accept it.
A fan’s view of the supra scene would be: 
“Yeah, I know that all the original members of 
The X-ers are dead, and that that’s not the real group – but hey!  What the hell!  Just enjoy it.  They’re doin’ all the old songs just like off the records,” 
but no such tolerance would be in attendance if,
when Bobby Y’s name was announced,
on stage walked a figure who everyone instantly recognized as an imposter,
and the fact that he might be able to 
perfectly mimic the real Bobby’s hits 
would not temper the audience’s rejection.
 

Men’s minds will accept what are clearly 
questionable notions concerning a forest
under theoretical discussion,
while refusing to believe such regarding an individual tree that is actually standing before it,
(same as mind’s permissible hostile views of large, faceless groups of people 
vs. an individual from such a group 
with whom the mind is personally acquainted.)
 

           The wider be spread the sham, 
       the easier the hoax goes down.
 
 
 

Ponder: Why will men readily accept a group of clear impersonators pretending to be The X-ers,
yet instantly reject a single performer presenting himself as Bobby Y  --  Why? --  Better question still:
How is this pertinent to a man getting-to-the-bottom-of-things?,
(the, “Things” being the office of the agency that books all of these acts --  and, oh yeah -- 
something else you should note:
the agency only books “oldie acts,”
[in case you haven’t taken a peek inside 
your own head lately].)
 

Men’s minds are programmed to accept complex, multifaceted spurious mental models of reality in preference to less complicated ones;
mind is in fact pre-wired to prefer any mental model
of reality over simply reality itself.
Reality is a way-y-y  too simple performer;
who wants to hear the real Bobby Y
when the fake X-ers are available?! 
“Well sure they’re shams --  but there’s more of ‘em!
 You get more performin’ for your money.”
 
 

Mind is born with an innate taste for imagining --
for forming mental models, explanations and analyses 
of the world it sensually perceives,
and it has a predisposition for ornate, sinuous, Gordian, and tortuous forms of same.
Mind, (under normal internal conditions),
will always prefer extremely complex directions to a certain site --  even be they clearly doubtful  --
over simple, direct ones.
Mind will always choose to laboriously pour over a 
complicated map rather than follow a 
simple finger-pointing to the destination asked about.
 
 

Inside your own head it can be seen that your mental booking agency handles nothing but oldie acts,
and constantly brings in acts that exist now in name only, their original members, energy, and talent 
long dead and gone --  and yet
you welcome them on stage every day.
This theatre of the mind is the one that is confusing;
seek out the solo artist in your consciousness;
he alone is still alive;
it is  -- and will always be --
only he who can give a performance that informs.
There are no groups, bands, or even duos
who have enlightening material in their act;
only the solo artist has access to such,
and indeed, if you open your eyes
you will realize that he is the only one who is
still breathing.
 

To see-to-the-bottom-of-things --
stop being an audience for oldie acts which are clearly comprised of naught but pretenders & poseurs.
Part of what makes the fake groups’ scam acts fly is that there being numerous figures on stage at the same time,
they can each engage in separate vocal,
and instrumental antics; dance steps; hands gestures, and  facial expressions,
and thus a five piece group can constructively present five different acts simultaneously.
A solo performer cannot avail himself of such an approach; 
he is there on stage alone; 
living or dying on nothing but his own talent.
And under similar conditions is mind routinely captivated by the multifaceted oldies acts which 
continually appear on its stage of consciousness
when it is clearly obvious that the whole performance is a sham from beginning to end;
the only thing valid about the entire act is its name:
”Thoughts” --  more specifically --  “MY Thoughts.”
 

What goes on generally in your head,
(if viewed by a man with cataracts flying by in a rocket), 
is what men refer to as their thinking -- their
personal, private, up to date, alive, alert, 
contemporaneous & conscious thinking,
but if there is just one member in the audience-in-your-mind 
who can be shaken awake,
he can instantly see that the 
performers-in-your-mind 
are all fakes. 
The endless, and meaninglessly complex 
songs and dances they perform are but
theatrical distractions to help keep you from thinking about the fact that their entire act is a sham;
that they are all dead, and impotent;
existing now in name only,
and able to still make a living only by 
cashing in on same.
What your mind calls, “Your mind” could,
(now resorting to union terminology),
be termed, “a ghost employee”  -- 
he gets paid, but does no work  --  Hell, 
he doesn't even ever show up.
It sounds like The X-ers doing one of their hits --
but it can’t be --
they can’t even show up --
you know that they’ve all been dead for twenty years –it just sounds sort of like them --  AND -
look how easily pleased you are 
in the theatre of your own mind.
 
 

Find that single act in your head;
that solo performer with his stripped down act;
him alone on stage, in a single spotlight;
nothing else there to distract from him, 
or to cover up any possible deficiencies 
in his performance;
nothing for him to rely on but his own talent.

Find that man in your mind, and heed only him,
and he will eventually lead you backstage --
where you will finally distinguish theatre from reality.
 
 

                                      J