(Key to some of the symbolism employed below is to be found in the Archives: December 5.)
 
 
 
 

A stiff man is a content city man;
there is not a single recorded instance of a limp stick of firewood at the prison furnace ever trying to get up and leave.
Without a man get some distance between him and his natural born mind he can have no idea of how firmly and rigidly are the thoughts that are fed through him implanted;
the more unyielding and unreceptive ye be  --  the more tolerable is life in a herd.
Pliable does not begin to describe the higher brain operations of the certain man;
his thinking is as adaptable as is reality itself,
(which could be considered one characteristic of being fully awake to reality;
trying to be, broad-minded is the collective’s kiddy version of, knowing-what’s-going-on
[but for the few  --  only the grown up execution will do]).
 
 

The so-called, end-of-a-man’s-mental-rope is where one familiar axon
predictably meets another with the same old frustrating results;
the overall goal of man’s higher brain operations (thinking)
is to have (when physically beneficial)  --  the-final-word  --
to override immutable instinctive programming,
but when the brain turns its attention to the intangible inner world that it has created, and continues to add to,
no final-word is ever possible on any subject in that
this realm (which represents a complete other form of reality separate from the physical one) is sustained only by being always open ended, forever unfinished, eternally incomplete.
Thought can say that heating water will make it evaporate,
and that is the final word on the matter,
but no such conclusions can be made concerning the non physical matters which make up man’s mental/spiritual/psychological inner world;
there nothing is ever conclusive for nothing can be conclusive and survive;
in the physical world, combining sodium & chlorine always has a predictable end:
the production of the stable substance, salt,
while in the brain’s mental only realm, no particular thought can be combined with
any other particular thought to produce a stable, utilitarian result;
in one of man’s realities the brain can state with finality: “Fire is hot”
but in his  --  sometimes important and always in flux other one  --   there can be no final word on exactly just how hot is Cinderella's new gown, or Jehovah's temper.
This is merely and observably how things are;
ordinary city folk live with it, and indeed generally give it no notice while
those born with the hunger to know what is going on behind the brain’s urban façade have no capacity to placidly live with the situation,
and indeed it is always at least on the periphery of their awareness.

A son asked a father:
“Is the realization had by learning or by discovery?”
     “Apparently by learning --  right up to the very moment of discovery.”
“So in a sense: the game is initially fixed?!”
      “Yeah  --    you could say that.”
 
 

Small minds always eventually show themselves for what they are
and if you don’t see them  --  you should be concerned.
City thought always sees critically;
the certain man’s mind can look blankly,
which is what allows it to see through the face of collective reality,
and into the behind the scenes workings of what is really going on.
A partisan thinker is blind;
ordinary men are by nature, partisan thinkers;
ordinary men are by nature blind to the essence of the inner reality so dear to them, produced entirely by partisan thinking.
A man who knows is on no one’s side;
who does reality favor,
on whom does the universe most shine,
and what truth is it that cares who supports it;
when you know what is going on, you have no feeling about it.
 
 

Advice: The means whereby ordinary men can throw up on one another
without anyone taking it personally.
(“Let’s hear it again folks for --  life-in-the-city!    Yeah!!”)
 

What life says man can’t do  --  those in the herd can’t.

Partisan thinkers all reside in Localville,
while he of independent mental means is no where to be found.
More Self Testing: if anyone can find you  --  you are not the certain man.
Corollary: all bad news is local
(the potential profit in pursuing the ramifications of this is immeasurable).
 
 
 
 
 

One man asked himself: “How can everyone’s brain be the same size,
and their minds so diverse therein?”
City folks may as well go ahead and be done with it  --
go ahead and name your mind after your own home town –
it’s cozier that way  --   plus you ain’t goin’ no where anyhow.
(“Hey! --  gimmie the blues, why don’t cha!”)
A man who can be given the blues --  cannot be given anything useful;
if you are partisan primed, then no liberating information can get through to you;
captives who care remain captive.
The fine art of earned-insouciance is not city teachable;
from, Pro to Con is, “blindness” spelled with three letters;
the looseness needed to achieve the realization
is n’er to be had in a prepared mind.
Remember: no matter how hungry, intelligent and sincere ye presently be –
if you knew what is really going on with all of this –
you’d now know what is actually going on with everything.
 

Even the certain man is partially blind & mistaken as to what he is doing
right up to the very instant when he finally and fully realizes what is going on;
thus must those with the hunger & potential hang on to the very end –
only then does the final-word reveal itself;
only when taken to its absolute limit, does this activity convey its full reward.