The reward of not allowing your thoughts to chase after the thoughts of others is that non-trailing thought is the jump start to catching on to what thought is really about.
 

An allegory properly put cannot be analyzed.
             Allegories are, when they are seemly,
             not too sweet and not too meanly,
             not too vague and not too blunt,
             but something that will cause your dog to stop
             and ponder himself instead of chasing passing cars:
                       that is when an allegory is just-t-t right.

Note. The properly placed allegory cannot be analyzed –
for its essence and raison d'être is in its already extant analysis of the life forms who create and listen to allegories;
you cannot breathe breath or explain words with words,
chasing this illusion to its ultimate end is the jump-start to the realization
just mentioned.
The entire notion of you causing yourself to become more conscious than
you presently are is an impossible one from consciousness’ normal perspective,
and only by running this illusory rabbit ‘til it drops
will that which is normally impossible become normal for your consciousness.
 
 
 
 
 
 

The god of one reality, while gazing out on the creatures whom he enveloped,
one day mused that it might be interesting to some time, somehow
lower himself to the level of his creators,
(and a rebellious part of his brain wondered if this was somehow connected to
what was just said about dogs-of-attention and what they pursue?)
If your nervous system cannot be any way other than how it was born, and yet one
part of it (your consciousness) believes otherwise  --   whose lead should you take?
The reason that men will follow a Buddha rather than an Alexander
is that a Buddha promises the impossible;
were there not touters of the impossible, civilization would not exist, for men’s consciousness would have never been  sufficiently stretched to create and support it.

The life of ordinary, civilized attention-dogs is one of leisure –
and thus one of dozing and dreaming  --  even while chasing the dreams of other dogs.

If you think you’re cursed  --  you are cursed.
(Aka: the simple can’t believe life is actually that simple,
while the more sophisticated pray that it isn’t.)
 
 
 
 
 
 

Talking about yourself is like a bad attempt to revive the dead,
(a really bad comb-over of bald-zombism).
 
 
 
 
 
 

One city had a guy who billed himself as: “The Man With Two Brains,”
and everybody in the world came to see him  --  that is no figure of speech, literally: everybody in the world came  --  they had no choice.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

A certain school teacher in the city gave his little charges what he considered
sage travel advice:
“If you do ever try to intellectually visit foreign lands remember this:
Montezuma can take his revenge mentally as well.”
Moral. If life wanted people to have thoughts other than the ones they already have
it would have given them other ones in the first place  --  no?!
Note. The first place is the last place of interest to a would-be escapee from the city.
 
 

If you’re busy  --  you’ll stay busy.
“Pa pa: you figure he’s talking about neural dogs or fleshy hands?”

For body to survive  --  it must stay busy,
for mind to do likewise  --  it must apparently do likewise,
but when you live in a fog bound locale, mind so continually comments on the fog
that it forgets how busy it stays in doing so.

City thoughts see themselves as shoe laces  --
laces always loose, or coming loose, and always in need of tying;
city laces can never be permanently tied,
ergo does the rebel strive for barefootedness as he makes his way out of town.

What keeps man’s intangible (spiritual and cultural) reality spinning
are the impossibilities upon which it is founded,
and which compose entirely, its internal structures;
there is no escape from this arrangement into which men are normally born  --
escape is impossible  --  but for one minor detail:
the world from which the certain man wants to escape
is composed of nothing but impossibilities to begin with.
(Need more be said  [wink, wink!])
 
 
 
 
 
 

Not only can old dogs never learn new tricks,
they cannot even comprehend the idea of there being new ones.
Why would life bring forth a form who by its nature yearned to be other than it is?!  --   or similarly: one who would even have thoughts that such a thing could be?  --  well, from all observations  --  it doesn’t! --   (well, mostly it doesn’t).

Dogs in the city live one life  --
those who leave home, another;
city dogs don’t know anyplace exists other than where they are now,
nor that any activity is available other than chasing passing cars.

A man whose mind handles only the thoughts going around in the city
remains dog-brained: normal and healthy for his place –
but dog-brained all the same.
 
 
 
 
 

The deity of one city advertised himself as:
“The God With A Partner  --   The Only Kind Of Leader Worth Your While,”
and citizens had no choice but to swoon and submit,
(being, with their own brains, already well experienced in the matter).
A man who can speak both for himself and for another
can engage in thought & speech that is either: doubly daunting, or:
twin twaddled,
(men did not make up the mythology of dogs chasing their tails for no reason.)
 
 
 
 
 
 

As an annual gift to his faithful listeners,
one city park philosopher presented this commentary:
“The first bite is always the best –
the first bite is always the bitterest –
the first bite is always the easiest  --
the first bite is always the most difficult, and above all:
the first bite is always what it seems to be, but with the innate talent
to make men believe it is not at all what they expected  --
and cause them to immediate look elsewhere for another bite  --
one that will erase from their mouth the taste of the first one.”
(He afterwards noted confidentially, that based on the response of his audience
he hopes that next year comes a little later next year.)
 
 

If you seem serious  --  you’ll be taken seriously.
Yet another matter with which men have no trouble due to their
being well versed thereabout in their dealing with their own thoughts.
(One man near the heart of town came up with the notion:
“Everyone looks serious when they’re horny,”
but could never figure out what to do with it.)
 
 
 
 
 
 

The Easy Cure.
Only the stupid criticize.

How To Easily Cure YOURSELF.
To be stupid  --  obviously  --  all you have to do is criticize.

How To Keep From Needing To BE Cured.
Only the stupid take criticism seriously, or accept curative instructions from others.

Easy Math   -- The Easiest On Earth: Stupidity = criticism;
that is the way life has man’s intangible city life arranged,
which means that is the way life wants it,
which means that is the way life gets it,
and those who do not grasp this  --  ARE this!  --   (just like life wants).
“Dear Pater: so you don’t refer to those of our family branch as rebels for no reason."
     “My boy: just because something is impossible does not cause the certain man
       to ever underestimate the power of paradox.
       For our sort: the problem with city based views of life is that
       they are effected with a two ended looking device,
       and the normally driven mind always looks in the wrong end.”
“Always?!  --  always?!    Man is that weird or what!”
     “Even impossible, you could say.”
 
 
 
 
 
 

In one land, that certain activity around which the lives of the herein oft mentioned,
father and son revolve is known by the name:
“Just The Facts, Mam  --  Just The Facts.”

And in another reality, its god referred to everything other than itself as: “Miss Jones,” and was much given to plopping down in its big chair,
lighting a rich panatela,
propping its feet up on the desk, and saying: “Miss Jones --  take a letter.”
“Gee Pop: didn’t know minds even had  desks.”
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

In the city, the difference between a plumber and a psychiatrist is
they both charge by the hour, and one of them gets the job done.
“It’s neat, huh Dad, having a plumber and a psychiatrist in your own head.”
    “Not to mention policemen, priests, artists and educators.”
“Wow!   Is there any profession not represented?”
    “You know quite well there is.”
 
 
 
 
 

There is a difference between being sincere, and, knowing-what-you’re-thinking:
the routinely citified are the ones uncontrollably, and meaninglessly, sincere.
 
 
 
 
 
 

The Law Of The Nervous System.
A man’s mind is his home   ---   unless he lives somewhere else.
 
 
 
 
 

One man’s continuing explanation is that he is, “saving his best thoughts for later.”
“You reckon that is:  to others --  or to himself?”
      “Like it matters?!”

There is a radical reality to everything  --  even man’s grandest dreams and illusions,
and only the certain man digs down to it.