May
9, 2001.
Thinking that there is something
you can learn
that will make you see-what-is-going-on
is like wanting to dress up your hair,
and after giving it a perfunctory
try, from then on,
mistaking the comb you left
there -- for your hair.
Only burned books are useful,
and deceased teachers helpful.
To get-ahead
you must stay-ahead,
and to stay-ahead
you must be alone:
just you --
and your nobody.
Humility is clothes stuck on
a paper doll named:
”Stupidity-hiding-behind-vanity
--
-- which-is-a-covering-for-still-deeper-stupidity.”
To get-ahead
you have to let-go,
and to let-go
you must recognize for yourself
what that thing running your
hand is holding on to.
That’s right --
it is holding onto ITSELF! --
-- and making you pay
for the illusionary intimacy.
No need to call a sex line:
just sit there, and continue listening to that voice already talking to
you;
its seductive powers are not
only formidable,
but custom made for you personally.
”I regret, (actually am, pleased),
that I have but one eye
-- one BAD I --
to give-to-the-cause....and that IS because…..well --
you know why-because!”
Definition:
A mystical martyr is a stupid, vain,
(ah, redundancy!), man whose
masquerade mask slips from his
hand.
The town of, Clarity,
so passionately cried for
by party goers still in costume,
is to be found on your internal
map
just between, What-The-Hell-Does-That-Mean?!
and,
I’ve-About-Had-Enough-Of-This!
Few who beg for it
have a system to digest it.
“Okay Louie, stay right where
you are,
we have the place surrounded
--
…as witnessed by the fact that
you hear me saying this,
even while it is you doing so
-- SO -- (you
see):
you can’t get away Louie.
(You don’t MIND
if I call you, Louie -- do-ey, Louie?”)
Only those get-away
who finally come to grips with
the fact that no one can.
Tip
To Those Born Of Privilege:
There is a certain seldom visited
area near here
wherein the term, “no-one-can”
has a MOST
peculiar spelling.
(Hint, hint -- wink,
wink -- tip, tip.)
You
do realize that the blunt, Big Boy Version is that
anyone
who reads a book, listens to the radio,
or
goes to a movie is blatantly admitting their mental inadequacy?
To the son, the father said:
”The reason that no one knows-what-to-do-about-things
is that there is nothing TO
do,”
“Nothing?”
asked the lad,
”Well,” answered the elder,
“That, (and as you
should understand by now), not-nothing
as well.”
“Understood,”
he replied.
A man with only the eyes life
gave him
sees but with one -- and
is thus, blind;
he born to wealth & privilege
buys a second,
and is hence with some sight,
but those who go beyond being
merely satisfied to,
See-Amongst-The-Blind
eventually have all their sockets
blown out.
Even if you meet an electrician, it will do you no good
if you have nothing ready to plug in.
You can discuss it for ever,
with your father, and your mother;
you can talk yourself in --
and -- talk yourself out;
the one thing that wealth &
privilege brings
is the keenness of wit to admit
when
you have been outwitted.
How
To Tell That You Have Been Outwitted:
You are alive.
How
To Tell That Being Outwitted Has Not Yet Had
The
Desired Affect:
You still some times feel:
“I’ve about had all of this I can stand!”
Note:
No one’s liver, lungs, or kidneys
ever say such things -- no sir!
There is only one tar baby in
every man’s briar patch -
and you brung ‘er there your
self! Yes sir!
…(‘Course that’s not technically
correct,
you was forced
to bring ‘er!.......................still
& all:
nobody’s holdin’ a gun to yer
head,
and makin’ you kiss all over
her -- like you love her! --
ever time you have to dance.)
The stickiness a man finds on
his hands
just before he dies, is not
a sign of carnal self abuse,
but rather a residual of a lifetime
spent impotently clutching that viscid & frigid reflection of yourself.
When underprivileged people
dance,
they always look at their thoughts;
the wealthy -- always
at their feet.
By the third set, only the square
& threadbare
are still hoping to trip-out,
and see the face of god;
hip dancers have moved on to
simply trying not to trip.
The struggle to, “self-remember”
is like a mixer for adolescents;
the adult soiree requires only
that you,
”feet-remember”,
and be Eternally-Mindful
of where you step.
The ultimate miraculousness
of the whole affair is not in learning how to fly out of the ballroom window,
but in seeing and accepting
the event for what it is.
Punchbowl mystics & geeks-on-the-sidelines
dream of acquiring magical powers,
but there is no magic other
than
to see things as they are.
(Plus: nothing you can imagine
even comes close to this in magicality. It is truly --
un-be-lieve-a-ble!
And is not that, super weird?!:
that simply, seeing-things-as-they-are
is the height of magic possible
for a human.
What does that tell you about
your ordinary state – Mate!?)
Attention Film Buffs: There is
a documentary of your life playing continually at a place near you.
Certain disgruntled & sorehead
mystical types tend to thoroughly dislike, (read, despise), anyone they
suspect of having seen the thing through to the end.
But every hero needs his foe,
(eh what?!) --
especially
self-concocted ones.
Ah, the sweet, sweet dreams,
spun o’er the punchbowl by those
too timid by temperament to tango, yet too pissed to sit quietly by.
(Pst! -- someone’s yelling
your way: “Oh, yoo hoo!
Is that you?
Is that REALLY you?!”
Only those still dancing with
the tar baby
always feel obliged to respond
to such questions.
….and then -- no matter
how hard they try --
-- always inaccurately.)
Find a man who doesn’t know
who he is,
and you have found a man asleep;
find another man who doesn’t
know who he is --
-- but who understands
the position --
and you have found a man who
is
different from the first man.
On some planets the creatures
say that things are going from, “bad-to-worse”
while on others they claim to
be, “hoping-for-the-best”;
then on one remote, obscure
world
it is difficult to tell exactly
what is going on!
…(leastwise, based on what the
beings there say!
…which
is mainly, nothing!)
Which brings to mind that nebulous
automotive marque which built only cars that no one could drive --
-- nor explain why they could not.
As it clearly stated on the
first page of
the owner’s manual: ”Only the
moronic can believe that they are behind the wheel,
and only the blind --
that they are going somewhere.”
“Ye Gads! Gertrude
--
what a marvelous
journey this be,"
exclaimed Gunther
as sitteth they,
in the drive way.
Everyone is in a hurry except
those
who-know-what-is-going-on
--
-- which is why they are
in none.
What does that tell you
about your watching-the-clock, Doc?!
One man finally got a call thru
to,
The-Center-Of-The-Universe,
and said:
”Look here, I know what the
problem is,
all I want from you is the solution!”
and can you believe it?!:
The
Center hung up in his face?!?!
(“Hey! What
‘d I do?!” whined the man.)
There once was a Bright-Light-School
named:
“If
You Don’t Know -- We Can’t Tell You”
which was eventually taken over
by the:
”We
Don’t Know Either, But Will Tell You Any Way”
outfit.
In fact, they’re still around
today.
“Over
6,000 Served.”
“Would
you like fries with your lies?”
After many years,
upon leaving the monastery,
one man said he was doing so to:
"work in the mines….………...…………………..alone.”
J
......(Note: there is but one mine, and a single miner.)
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