Father so posed to a son: “How come no human, if at all civilized,
is ever born being totally satisfied with what they are?  --  and:
how come the more civilized you are the more you are dissatisfied with you?”
 

One man says: “I have no problem with what other people do,
for I have no interest in what they do.
(Wish I could hold the same attitude toward some of my thoughts.)”
 

How To Think Better (Short Version)
If you save the best for later  --  you won’t have a later.
And A Conversation Pertinent Thereto
“Ideas are just like food: there’s always more where that came from.”
    “But you are wrong: there is no endless supply of food.”
“Nay, you are wrong: what is it that you think we all stand on every day!”  --
and by then the second man was no longer sure if they were talking about
food and the Earth, or mind and thoughts.
 

Man’s intellect is the world’s only structure whose construction process
produces its building plans.
Those who like to play the game of asking:
“Which came first: the chicken or the egg?”
miss the real fun of pondering: “Why man’s interest in such games?”
 

Hormones make you fat  --  neurons make you suffer over it.
“Which came first: me being born as I am,
or me being prepared to be dissatisfied therewith no matter what?”
Conditions present threats  --  thoughts make you worry about them;
the certain man’s motto (if he had one) would be: Bow to but the inevitable
(but don’t even let it see you doing so  --  not in words or thoughts).
 

Another barometer by which to measure the continuing health and expansion of ordinary man is that his life becomes increasing one of talk.
 

One professor’s most memorable comment to date:
“Many people who attempt to speak French, even though their rhetorical delivery seems appropriate, do not actually understand what they are saying --
........also true for Greek, German, and Chinese, et al.”
 

One man reasoned that if he developed synonyms for everything he thought,
he would have twice as much to think about;
but as is common in a binary realm  --  it didn’t quite work out that way.
 

One chap pondered: “If both poverty and excesses are insult to human propriety,
then what to wear to The Beggar’s Ball for charity?”
(his half brother suggested a little: off-the-shoulder-irony --
and right there is another example of the inherent frustration in trying to get to
the end of any verbal inquiry in a world of polarized linguistics and thought).
 

One man’s offering: “If your hormones don’t care  --  you don’t care”   --
true, but: Ah! how it seemeth otherwise!
The spirit of the seas is silent, but it moveth the waves to roar.
Family News
Parents are born into their positions;
it is only children who must look for work.
“Pa pa: me suspecteth he be speaking not of parent and child,
but of hormones and neurons.”
    “Ye suspecteth well, old sport.”
 

The more that what you know you got from other people
the more do you --  through your own mouth and un credited --
want to pass it on to other people  --
this be why the racket of the market place is not superior to the sounds of
the university classroom (that is, for men who know things entirely on their own.)
 

One man explained his absence from the city’s prayer rituals
by noting that anything he had to say to god, he’d tell him to his face:
another unwitting display of apparently free-wheeling thoughts’ confused attitude toward the genetic temperament which drives them...........or, maybe not;
read it again and see if it is possibly the right-on-the-money view.
That is one of the nice features of having determined to take away from
life’s collective processes, responsibility for your thoughts, and assume control over them yourself (that is):
you are then unnaturally capable of looking at any magnet and observing both poles simultaneously, thus grasping in an instant, the full working essence thereof.
Being born of ordinary mind limits a man’s scrutiny of life to the binary-based rational:  a boon, in that: ergo does science make sense and technology work
concerning the physical side of life man studies;
his examination of the non physical side of his life is likewise confined,
but resulting in no measurable benefit  --  no objective harm either  --
it is simply a wash;
the verbal conclusions about their intangible lives that men draw from polarized perspectives can never present anything that any rational man can in any way
quantify objectively:
all that can come from a routine man’s mouth is a meaningless expression of
either his subjective like or dislike for conclusions already on the public table, produced entirely by the mechanics of his own genetic temperament.
                                                    Hey, hey!  --  what d’ya say?!
                                                   “It ain’t me talkin’ --  it’s my DNA!”

Men comprehend totally that their genes are unquestionably responsible for
what they are physically, but their genes also make them deny this
concerning what they are temperamentally and thus verbally.
(In this instant case, do you have to be asked again whether it is super neat or what?!)

Even common minds can find endless examples of questions concerning
non tangibles for which there seems to be no-way-out,
but only he of the unconventional cortex ever sees there is also, no-way-in --
which turns the inner life ordinary men perceive as chaotic stampedes by wild horses into orderly, entertaining races on an endless oval track (in medical terms):
no disease can harm you that can make no progress  --  or:
no delusion can fool you that cannot go past the initial stage of
introducing itself to your mind AS a delusion (aka):
the first moment of being mentally ordinary is not the problem,
(inasmuch as it merely establishes the neural ground rules for a routine existence) --
it is all of the moments that come afterward  --
the rest of your life after the initial ignition of consciousness, and the appearance of thoughts in your brain (to wit): the first second of being executed is never deadly  --
it is that which comes after that kills you.
Ergo does the certain man never stick around after the opening bell  --
Bam!  --  the sound,
               and the race to no place is on.
“Pa pa, is this connected to the fact that you never see anyone on the back of
the certain man’s steed?!”