A large waste of an alert man’s mental time is trying to decide whether
different symptoms occurring around a central situation under examination
are collateral or coincidental,
(the absolute biggest joke of all though is in believing for a Long Island instant
that the thoughts which run through your mind have any significance whatever
as per what they literally say).
 
 
 

In the beginning, ChasingTheThang seems to be a desire for
something unknown to be told to you,
but it is really a desire for something unknown to happen to you.
 
 
 

One man adopted a somewhat proverbial paternalistic attitude toward the thoughts that naturally frolicked in his mind: “Don’t make me come in there!”
 
 
 

The baseline that all true rebels should by now realize is:
a man upset by what goes on in life will never understand life.
 
 
 

Whenever things reached the place where he absolutely had no idea what to do next, one man would stop perfectly still, put his hands on his hips and forcefully say:
“Well!  --  now that we have a clear picture of  the problem  --
we can get started on the appropriate solution”  --  and then split the scene.
(P.S. he became a popular spiritual leader.)
 
 
 

The Human Heartbeat On The Half Shell.
Did not alcohol and drugs have their equitable hang-over-costs,
men would stay forever drunk and high,
and were not similar circumstances prevalent in education and religion,
ordinary minds might actually get somewhere.
(As Monsieurs Daniels & Dickle said to Mademoiselles Montessori & Magdalene: “We’d ask you to dance but we know our intentions would trip over your premises” –
only he who glides alone  --  does so without resistance;
artificial additions mean artificial results;
all additions to man’s second reality are artificial
[they’re the only things that’ll grow there.
(Or as Crawford Long enjoined: “Don’t hold your breath.”)])
 
 
 

Baseline Adjunct:
Those who decry the lack of justice in life have no understanding of life.
 
 
 

One of the ongoing civilizing influences on man is his fear of it.
(“Too bad the same thing can’t happen with his handling of dumb ideas,”
and someone else says: “In a polarized universe,
the difficulty in figuring out what life is about,
using only your standard issue intellect is:
your left foot believes that the primary impediment to progress is the right foot,”
and another chap says that if he reads these daily writings just before going to bed,
he often, later that night, believes he hears the Laws of Physics
pleading to borrow his car.)

Predictability without understanding is like a buttonhole without a button (that is): they’re both the same to a coatless rebel.
 
 
 

The baseline as it lies in deep left field:
Those who bemoan man’s stupidity have no understanding of man and his role in life.
 
 
 

A man stood before the planet’s most complete collection of books, manuscripts,
and research material, and said to himself:
“All of this!  --  all of this and about nothing!" --  and his mind injected:
“Ah yes!  --  but the most important nothing imaginable to man!"
(“Too bad I don’t get that.”)
 
 
 

Only neurons can censure hormones –
and only neurons can censure neurons –
what the hell difference does it make if neurons are censured ‘til
Nero comes back from the bathroom?!
(The world’s biggest gag hasn’t changed: it’s still believing that
what the thoughts naturally running through your mind have to say
has any significance as per their verbal presentation of  themselves,
[hidden camera tryouts for the Boobsled Team.])
When the rest of the world is listening for thunder  --
the certain man’s ear is somewhere else  --  completely out of the weather.
(“Too bad I guess, that I don’t get that one either.”)
 
 
 

From The City Ballrooms: Romance, Defined To A T.
Apologize-&-describe-themselves: What partners do between dances,
(“By, ‘partners’ and, ‘dances’ do you really mean, neurons and their standard steps?”)
 
 
 

The rebellious part of one man’s consciousness said to his civilian counterpart:
“It’s not just that I know that specific things you know are wrong  --
it’s that I understand that everything you know is wrong  --
that’s why we have so little to talk about.”
One of the reasons that the non standard experience in the brain of:
realizing-what-is-really-going-on seems to many so complex and mystical
is because it is so simple and plain.
(“Hey!  --  I’m not busting my mystical hump here trying to see Shangri La
only to find it looks just like Shreveport, my hometown.”
 
 
 

At certain stages in this mythical warfare, there is little reason to resist:
life is going to make everyone confess at least once.
 
 
 

At The Combined Economists & Meteorologists Convention
one delegate was overheard asking another:
“If one of your predictions comes true  --  do you then own it?” –
regrettably (from the rebel’s view): the opposite more likely becomes true.
Metaphysical-truth that succeeds in achieving the status of: Verified in the city, becomes the drowning weight ‘round the neck of its apparent discoverer.
Thus (even were he drunk and drugged) the certain man never promotes, The Truth.
(Go to duck farms for quacks.
“I don’t think I get that one either  --  but not quite as badly not as the previous ones  --  is that some kind of progress? --  or should that truly frighten me?"
Geese know no fear  --  [save for those things that naturally frighten geese].
Question: What kind of bravery is it to simply admit you’re scared  --
without a complete understanding of exactly where the barn of fear is located
in man’s mental farm, and what is in it?
Note: You will never see what is really going on
if you are in any way frightened  by what is going on.)
 
 
 

The familiar without a fresh perspective is like the sky without a cloud  --
you can’t tell what the hell you’re looking at.
“And I for sure don’t get that one!
Is that why I so frequently feel so disoriented right here on my home planet?”
    Hormones are what make you see  --  neurons, what cause you to stare:
    men fixate on the familiar and thus ride a bus for seventy years
    that forever rolls downhill and ergo, charges nothing.
“Yes, now I see: the ride was free  --  but not headed where I wanted to go.”