The seeming way to make people like you is to tell them about yourself;
the sure way to make them dislike you is to tell them about yourself  --   so:
what IS a person to do? (Well for sure is not to see how this applies to
what is said about you in your own head!  --  yeah! --  that’s for sure!)
 
 
 

One day a man took some of his hormones to the library with him,
and after they had looked around a while, they said to him:
“If you will pardon me saying so: you people sure could save yourselves a heap of needless effort with all this detailed separatin' and classifyin' of these works
'cause everything here is fiction.”
 
 
 

The reason movies are shown in the dark is same is why surgeons wear masks,
judges wigs, and city intellectuals a sobriquet announcing
their credentials in advance.
What allows culture to move in its apparent direction is mis-direction.
 
 
 

Those who find their own lives and ideas unworthy of study,
study the lives and ideas of others.
Question: is biography actually non fiction when written by a persona
with no tangible substance?
Isn’t the distinction between science and social science supposed to be that
the info of the former doesn’t take into account human sociability?
 
 
 

At the routine mental level there is no substitute for ignorance --  no! --
not even knowledge!
(Okay, there’s one: originality, but who the hell’s gonna go to all that trouble?!)
 
 
 

When he first heard the pejorative Texas term: “Big hat, no cattle,”
one man thought it referred to mystical teachers rather than ponderosa poseurs.
 
 
 

One of their city leaders noted: “It is the duty of the superior to BE superior.”
 
 
 

When they begin trying to awaken from the dream,
everyone finds a method they feel is the one correct way to achieve the goal.
Even ex smokers remember a favorite brand.
 
 
 

Fluff up the pillows even with sham reverence,
and fat heads are anxious to stay the night.
 
 
 

A man at all interested in what might be said of him when he is dead
has never grasped in a personal way what life is about.
 
 
 

Originally everyone had a true self  --
then they got a new self  --
now IT is their true self.........correction: that is the version everyone likes to hear,
but here is how it really is:
originally everyone has a true self, and whatever they have now is still it.
 
 
 

One man calls the effort to awaken himself: “Looking for an idiot in a haystack.”
Acid Proof Test: Knowledge isn’t real human knowledge unless someone made it up.
 
 
 

One man says that sometimes late at night he is almost certain he hears a faint voice crying: “Hello? --  hello?  --  this is life calling  --  can anyone hear me?”
 
 
 

One man says that he’d be as likely to commit murder as suicide  --
which he says he finds greatly comforting.............................he thinks?!?
 
 
 

Some wrote Professor Exacto: “Dear Professor: Does the ration of muscle to fat, physically, have any relationship to the ration of thought to consciousness, mentally?
P.S. Please excuse the lack of sufficient postage, but I didn’t realize how much this letter weighed until after I had already put it in the box. Sincerely,” etc.
 
 
 

One infantile area of a consciousness asked a similar spot:
“Wanna dress up and play make-believe some more?”
     “Sure.”
“What’ll it be this time: Mommy and Daddy?  --  Doctor and Nurse?
Teacher and pupil?”
     “Let’s go all out, and pretend we’re naked to just what we are.”
“Jeeze!..........I don’t know..........what if we got caught?”
 
 
 

One fellow decided to draw up a chronological outline of his intellectual development, and it proved to have stopped at about the time of Cromwell  --  no,
not his knowledge of history  --  his own intellectual development.
(Few child consciousnesses ever see the age of  twelve.)
 
 
 

One man says: “I don’t take no shit from inanimate objects!” --
something he says he learned from inanimate objects.
(And someone says they assume [okay: hope]
that this story appearing immediately after the previous one is mere coincidence.)
 
 
 

The ruler of one domain confides: “It is difficult to exercise power AND good taste.”
(And as one villager likes to say: “Out of the mouths of humans oft times come words.”)
A depth to this of more potential use by the nervous system rebel would be:
“It is difficult to exercise power AND originality,”
since nothing is ever new under the hormonal sun,
and only faux ones under the neural star of those who understand not
the influence of these twin stars in man’s universe of consciousness.
In the hazy, pseudo light of the city you can either be:
a mean dog with no uncertainties, or a bewildered poet, continually attempting explanatory verse on the nature of canines without ever being aware of your muse.
The culture of the collective is based entirely on spectators describing the action on the field  --  oblivious to the field existing only in their mind.
(“Well no wonder I can’t find the proper god to worship, or truth to follow!
Hump!  Why wasn’t I told this before!”)
 
 
 

Certain Wealth & Transportation To Where You Want To Go.
A man with a billion dollars can afford to walk.
(Only in routine city affairs does hold true the adage: “Blessed are the poor in spirit.”)
And when one chap said he wanted to go where there is, “no morality”  --
he was told to go back where he came from, (but he didn’t appear to get it).
Insider’s Travel Tip.
If you don’t have secrets  --  you ain’t got it  --  oh no! --
not, secrets as in stuff you gotta hide  --   no, no:
you have to know things that the rest of you doesn’t know you know  --
               which is in full fact, THE secret to everything in this journey.