Today’s annoying, partial categorical syllogism:
Those who do not know what is going on
want someone to tell them what is.
Everyone wants someone to tell them what is going on  --   except one man.
 
 

People who think that some particular bit of non physical shit is important
will fInd that particular bit of shit to be important.
(Curious note: even when this is pointed out to them they still see nothing significant about it.)
 
 

A principal way to tell that you are still distracted and dumb is if you still spend time
thinking about how dumb and distracted other people are.

One man had a rule: he would only think ill of other people when he was feeling bad.
 
 

A speaker addressed an audience:
“Only one small area of the brain has a sense of humor  --    Hey,
what are you people grinning at?”
 
 

All human decisions are made on the basis of inadequate-information  –
which does not bother ordinary men
in that they have a mistaken sense of whence decisions come.
 
 

The manipulation of language is the forte of the herd,
and the pianissimo of the individual.
Make no underestimation: words are magic and can do anything: make elephants fly,
the dead arise, the fictitious seem real and the foolish seem intelligent.
(Words and those-who-know engage in private frivolities that you can’t begin to
imagine!)
 
 

The neat thing about getting a real nasty treatment for a really serious ill is that you
don’t think about the ill for wondering if you will survive the treatment.
(Apply this to trying to awaken  --  if you have the nastiness for it.)
 
 

The speaker so spoke:
“Once you know what is going on
 the challenge then is to keep thoughts meaningfully occupied.   Any questions?”
    “Does this include thinking about yourself personally?”
“Any more?”
 
 

Cows who have ventured outside the city hate to return home.
(Trust you do not find, hate too strong a word.)
 
 

Feelings are info  --  and info without feelings commands little of a man’s attention;
thus does the rebel thinker silently embrace the unavoidable poignancies of life,
and secretly utilize them in his advantage.
 
 

Men love to say that everyone has a, defining-experience in their life
(a war, a depression, a catastrophe)  --
the certain man’s (unlike everyone else) is when he realizes he is conscious.
 
 

One man mused: “I may be coming apart,
but at least it is in large, manageable pieces.”
 
 

Mind’s primary talent is in making memorable note of deviations from the norm,
various reactions thereto and their consequences,
and lastly, the ability to communicate same to others.
   Hormones react to circumstances/conditions;
   neurons, when operating optimally are responsible for the aforementioned duties.
While hormones introduce all subjects and still determine simple survival affairs,
neurons often have the last say, particularly in matters of civilized-caused complexity;
thus is a self-referential and apparently closed system within man completed
(which also seems to reflect an even larger one in which man exists).
 
 

Mind is primed to ponder pictures of potential adversity --
an activity that on occasions can prove helpful, but which is mostly a useless exercise.
The certain man tries to disconnect some of this programming in himself.
 
 

There could be more to ancestor worship than at first seems  --
having to do with unwitting acknowledgement of the continuum of cellular survival.
 
 

In the certain man’s neural world: abandonment is not a negative concept;
just like a good country singer, city folks: “Stand by their thoughts” –
the independent thinker out on the plains has no such fidelity.

Knowing what is going on makes you true only to what is going on.

One man’s privately understood motto is:
“Dreams are a terrible thing for a mind to waste.”
Without dreams of seasonal gods  men would have developed no agriculture;
without dreams of immortality, no medical technology,
and without the select dream of living-in-a-dream the first certain man
would never have conceived of, then discovered a state of increased consciousness.
The brain's otherwise seemingly useless dreams are in fact the seeds for all that man has accomplished to his own benefit.

Things are arranged so that secretly, all cows want to get away from the herd  --
but not enough to actually try;
a man is either born with the neural quirk to attempt it, or he is not,
and nothing will ever occur in herd life to change this.

Clutching only local escape plans –
even the most passionate of prisoners offers no real threat.
 
 

If, as men believe, they are responsible for what they think, then a question:
so if mentally you are your own father: whose sins & errors are you going to pay for?     --  whose can you.

    The extraordinary expansion of one's mental awareness that comes from
     independent thinking is in one sense, a form of genetic space travel.