JansDailyFreshRealNews

If you do not grasp what is going on, you either:
(a) Criticize it;
(b) Make fun of it;
(c) Study it, or:
(d) Go along with it, (or as an unlisted Take-Out-alternative:
doTheThing).

That is it! And more than sufficient do most the choices find.
What an array -- something for everyone:
for the sorehead; the artist; the intellectual & for everyone else!

Same as with the diversity in men’s individual preferences in such
physical matters as food & sex;
each person is born with a predilection for one of the items
over the others;
the question of correctness or objectivity does not enter into it;
every man instinctively finds either a, b, c, or d to his taste --
-- and that is that.
“Keep serving ‘til I burp -- start again when I signal.”

Even though people have some meaningless variations in their physical
taste preference, (such as for sweet over sour),
constructively speaking: there is no actual, menu for the body,
in that it is utterly programmed to consume
and have intercourse only with things which will benefit it,
but in the intangible realm, so preeminent in the life of man,
a wide selection of choices for individual tastes not only seems available, but also proper-merging-into-required.

It is accepted by ordinary men as damn near sine qua non,
that to be fully human is to be either:
pissed, sarcastic, pointy-headed, or apathetic,
and the energy produced in the differences between them keeps the intangible world of man’s dreams, schemes & nightmares running,
(of note is that, the first three, (a,b,c),
when in need of an instant target for comparative scorn,
will commonly dump on (d) --
“How dare someone not even play the game,” say they,
but of further note is that the latter group is by far the largest;
they are, in essence, the Poster Boy for the planet’s mortal population -- they simply: go-along.)

But it is those who do not quietly, go-along who fill the pages of
man’s history: they make the discoveries; conquer new worlds,
and create culture, and everyone else comes along for the ride;
this is how it is, and no sound from anyone’s tongue refutes it.

While an individual person can experience all of the four items on the everyday menu at various times, usually one will be predominant
in their life to such an extent as to be observable;
it is a reflection of their genetic temperament and about it,
as much can be done as can Everest be moved by a spoon;
this innate primary preference from the menu is, in you,
easily noted if desired;
getting entangled in fighting with it makes you eligible for a free spoon.

Ordinary men who do not grasp what is going on in life either:
criticize it; make fun of it; intellectually study it, or go along with it;
if you really want to see for yourself what is taking place,
you must drop the menu from your mind;
it will always be there on the table before you,
waiting for your perusal & consideration,
and all around you will the rest of humanity be ordering
only there from, but it does not matter -- unless you let it --
by picking back up the menu in your mind, and thereby,
uncontrollably making it become serious again
in your perception of what is going on.

Mountains are going on,
as is some men’s criticism of mountaineering;
hurricanes are going on,
as is some men’s ridicule of congress’ blustering;
tumors are going on,
as is some men’s study of what kind of behavioral effects an unhappy childhood has on people with brain tumors,
and then everything else not mentioned is going on which
everyone not above covered, accepts.

Beyond this 99%+ of the world’s non material
consuming population, exists the few,
trying to get out of the café with a bag of TheThing --
but this gets tricky since it is not on any menu,
(though faux versions are),
and no one can serve it to you,
(although anxious, imitation waiter-gurus hover over tables),
and the dish cannot even be described in the positive --
but in the otherwise, it quite readily can, (to wit):
you will never get your hands on an order of TheThing while you are engaged in: criticism, sarcasm, verbal snipe scoping or routine ennui;
(a tip): neither critic, artist, scientist nor your own bachelor uncle be.

Have it clear: each of the four choices on the everyday menu
are only of the mental world;
thought can verbally make them seem applicable to the material one, but this is sticking an imaginary stamp onto a real package;
all that is momentarily there is an ephemeral spot of spit.
The body’s silent, “criticism” (if you will) of cyanide is one thing;
the mind’s of religion X, is something altogether different and
altogether not anything -- not any thing of pertinence to
those trying to find their way out of this
dante’s-above-ground-café, high-atop-the-world-babel-building.

If thoughts commonly pass through your consciousness which are angry and critical of things that pass through other people’s
heads and come out of their mouths
remember that they come not from the mighty river of your educated, sophisticated neurons,
but originate in your down-home, backwater hormonal streams which themselves are of course fed from
the structural dams of your inherited DNA blueprints.
Be done with it: embrace inescapable reality:
stand internally atop hoover (if mrs hoover doesn’t object)
and declare the obvious:
“By virtue of my place in the human tree,
I am filled with piss, criticism, sarcasm, meaningless mental noodling,
and heaps of wearisome apathy,”
and shift your attention to a normally unnoticed inner place
that can do you some good --
that place which no one can describe to you --
but which is not at the table where items a - d are served & scarfed.

The everyday world & reality that supports us all
depends on men being critical, sarcastic, inquisitive & indifferent,
but life does not hinge on whether or not you are helping out in this collective responsibility.
Life wants someone to be mad as hell at political party Y,
but it doesn’t demand that it be you –
let someone else do life’s grunt work -- they’re going to anyway;
be aware of this in advance and respectfully decline to partake when the big tray of: “I’m-mad-as-hell” is passed around.
If you look to the floor of this bistro you realize that it is life itself which is critical of things it does and simply uses man to express such displeasure,
same as it employed him originally to do whatever it was
that it now finds unacceptable,
and same as it will use him to make whatever changes it requires,
and so on throughout the serving hours of this reality (apparently).

                          Silence is your greatest weapon.
    The reason TheThing has no suitable or permanent name
                         is because it is composed of un-noise.