In a rarely frequented area on the outskirts of the city hangs out a guy
locally referred to as the: How Things Could Be Man, who is said to issue periodic statements proposing (from his perspective): How Things Could Be,
(‘tis also reputed he commonly prefaces such with a sly smile and the words:
“If we lived in a better universe this is,” blah blah blah,
thus might be the literalness and solemnity of his verbal activity open to question
[but as the unofficial mayor of the nearby neural hobo camp is wont to say:
“Beans taste just as good from a silly putty can as they do from
one of stainless steel.”])

From sundry sources and self asserted ear witnesses to these chronicling comments of the: How Things COULD Be Man, was what follows compiled:
(supposedly at one time or the other has supra styled dude said):
“If we lived in a better universe:
Men would not be made by life to act as mentally dense as they do;
people would not have to verbally pretend that they do not realize
what is clearly happening right before them;
they would not feel forced to devise and then accept explanations of human activity which are patently spurious:
men would not be coerced into constantly calling things by names
which are clearly incorrect,
men would then not fight over anything they couldn't eat, and subsequently
would not feel that the planet is too small to accommodate everyone,
all-in-all: men would have no concern about matters which do not exist,
they would instead enjoy mental diversions for no more than they are,
and not label as, ‘information’ that which is simply entertaining;
this would free them from meaningless entanglements in
the verbal pastimes of other men (everyone could whistle the song that
pleases them without the consistent danger of a busted lip);
the only ills men would suffer would be somatic,
and no one would feel sick over being who they are,
(guilt and self condemnation would be unknown;
men with stubby arms would not expect to fly,
and everyone would, when they looked in a mirror, see only their self);
no one would be so mentally inept as to think they knew anything about things
which do not exist,
ergo would obvious ignorance cease to be called knowledge;
men would then realize that the lack of understanding things that are not there
is what is proper (there IS nothing to ‘grasp’ about Eden);
men would recognize the distinction between what they physically feel,
and mentally think, and would no longer call Mephistopheles, Faust;
people would fear only a lion, and not the word,
and thus not encourage others to do so;
all told: men would not speak of any matter that doesn't matter
in a tone of seriousness;
champagne of the brain would be enjoyed for itself and not proffered to be water;
men would be as carefree as beavers and as sturdy as humans,”

The ordinary minded don’t need onions in their daily rations to make them cry;
all they require is human ordinariness therein.
Corollary: A more alert man could only feel any sympathy for himself
under one condition: Of suddenly being aware that he was being ordinary again,
(and truth be told, a truly alert guy would be more irritated than sympathetic).

The way city time zones work unnoticed in those who persist in living there full time is that (for instance): when it is 7 A.M. in Boston, it is still 2 o'clock in your spleen.
 
 
 

Business News.
Neurons and hormones have set up men’s inner sense-of-a-self
to be the one in charge of the company's: Conflict Resolution.
 
 
 

Judicial News.
If you live in the city, you always feel just a little guilty.
 
 
 
 

A man with only local interests can be of no assistance.
Corollary: Never submit to a ruler who speaks only your native language,
or owns indigenous real estate.

One man’s question is: “Why must a mere 99.99999% of humanity's thinking
control that of the other   .00001%?  --  and come to think of it:

Dialogue Number Sixty Four.
“If life really knew what it was doing it wouldn't have had to put erasers on pencils.”
   “But it was smart enough to know it was gonna need ‘em.”
(And a bystander could only shake his head in awe as he mused:
“Boy! --  that life! --  is it somethin’ else or what!”)
 
 

Sometimes the conversation in his head became so surprising and provocative
that one man would wonder if who was in there

The mind cried out: “Help! --  I’m being held hostage by the past!”

The mind cried out: “Help! --  I’m being held hostage by my hormones!"

The mind cried out: “Help! --  I was created to feel uncomfortable, uncertain,
                                                   and confined!"  --

                                                   the mind does not lie  --  to the certain man.

In the city: there are no certainties without their immutable exceptions.
 
 

Definition Concerning City Conditions For Those Desiring To Depart The City.
The Truth:  What’s left after all criticism's removed.
 
 

One man says: "I used to think that every man's life was a: cry-for-help! --
then finally realized that every man's life is life  --  so what sense would that make!"
 
 

Definition: The Routine Human Mind: A disease that’s all symptoms and no disease.
 
 

And one guy muses:
“It’s damn near impossible to live around here  and not be human      (at least partially).”
 
 

A Curio Notable Only In The City.
While up can become down,
in, out,
true, not so,
singularly: seriousness and non seriousness are not interchangeable  --
what d’ya make of that, curio lovers?