When deemed appropriate to his actions, one man will whisper to himself:
“How can I know so much and be so stupid.”
Just as looking is not the same as seeing, neither does knowing guarantee  --
without your own constant vigilance  --  that you will never again lose your keys.
Ordinary men are distraught over wars and international injustices
while the rebel is concerned over things that are actually important  --
like him breaking his favorite cup.
 
 
 
 

Conversation Number Seventy Six.
“Cells are everything  --  men, nothing.”
     “But men are nothing but cells?!?”
“Okay: cellular men might be important  --
but the thing they think they are is still of no significance.”
  “Well, that’s something. at least.”
 
 
 
 

The way to be clumsy is to consistently look off  from whatever it is you are doing;
the way to be clumsy of consciousness is to constantly look off from
what goes on in your mind.
 
 
 
 

One man’s attitude toward himself was nothing at all like his attitude toward others  --  thus assuring him being taken as normal in the city;
another guy’s attitude toward himself was about the same as his attitude toward
others  --  thus accounting for him being generally invisible to the normal.
Popularity amongst those who seek to be popular
depends entirely on one’s capacity for inequity of judgment  --
this explains the approval men have for the gods they concoct.
When you sew the suit  --  it always fits.
(“You refer I assume, to clothing you cannot see.”
A most fashionable assumption, my good man.)
 
 
 
 

In the city, the most popular immediate response to any question is:
“That’s a great question…”
 
 
 
 

Men have two ears so that one can say: “Hello! --  how are you!”
while the other can mutter: “Ah, screw you!”
Many are the scientists who ponder the reason man’s brain is in two pieces:
one day one will come up with Theory A -- which will always be matched by
another proclaiming: “Damn Theory A!” (perhaps not so crudely put,
[by the by: a significant but under-noted feature of being a scientist
is being fully civilized in your speech, which urges a query:
Why, when men are talking about physical matters in their environment,
will they speak as straightforwardly, simply and calmly as possible,  but when
they are talking about man, well  --  you know how it goes (comparably speaking)])
and none note that this endless two sworded verbal fencing
regarding the question --  answers the question.

It takes two legs to walk  --  and two tongues to talk  --
in a way that makes sense to those in the city;
the rebel on the open plains outside of town however
speaks with but a single tongue  --  which is why he is not heard and is invisible.
The herd has no interest in individual cows (except of course those who
seek to be popular  --  then every cow has to pretend to be interested so that when
it’s their turn the other cows will reciprocally pretend to be interested in them).
Thus it be that the-man-who-knows is well known and popular only amongst himself, (which curiously enough, is not a totally ill founded description of being
verbally more awake than the flock.   [Ba,ba, asleep sheep]).
This suddenly caused one fellow to wonder:
“Can you ever be in Cairo if you have no name for it?” –
which spawns an even better ponder:
“Could you ever be ‘asleep’ in the metaphysical sense
had you never heard of the idea?”
(“You call that a fuckin’: ‘better question’!”)
 
 
 
 

The dense like to think of themselves in the plural –
hence their creation of the words: “men, us” and: “humanity,”
when a simple: “me”  or better still: silence would do just fine (for the few at least).
 
 
 
 

From Our: Definitions Desk.
Psychologists: Priests without the power of absolution.
Priests: Psychologists who can’t set their own fee schedule.
And from our slang dictionary,
the more adult version Of: T.G.I.F. (Thank God It’s Friday):
T.G.I.D.: Thank God I’m Dying.
Which seems to have spurred one reader to reflect:
“In that by and large you can do nothing about the way you look,
life has compassionately provided man with cosmetic surgery  --
but where the hell is such thoughtfulness when it comes to your innards?!”
 
 
 
 

One guy’s sole, inspirational mantra is: “Cells are a man’s best friend.”
 
 
 
 

The first thing every morning drill one father has laid on a son:
“Remember young trooper: as damaging as engaging in criticism is  --
reacting to it is worse.”
(Postscript: How can any one instance of misrecognizing Miss Atlantis
be worse than any other?)
 
 
 
 

One man’s daily reminder to himself: “Without my molecules  --  I’d be nothing”
(an observation that apparently holds no interest to his neural ones --
not based on the complete indifference they display there toward;
they never mention this obvious fact on their own --
he must always bring it up himself
[gives you something to think about, huh?! (if you’re outside the city)]).