September 10, 2003                                                                © 2003: JAN COX
 
 

Movie Making News.
The out-takes from one of your personal realities can collect to eventually form
a completed film in one of your others;
no secret that men commonly say they feel estranged-from-their-self
(by the by: how this quite astonishing idea can come from men’s mouths without it instantly and violently shocking them out of their usual state of consciousness
can be viewed either as one of life’s great ignored mysteries, or else as
another example of how deeply embedded in man’s programming is his
conventional mental condition)
which can be verbally modeled as due to the simultaneous presence,
and dual realities of (take your pick): hormones & neurons: the mind & the body:
the civilized self & the feral one: what a man thinks & what a man feels:
the flesh & the spirit (and: you know the routine),
no matter which of such mentally contrived pictures strokes your fancy,
there is the indisputable fact behind them all that ordinary, accepted-as-sane men
will freely state when conditions are right, that they feel they are somehow --
in some part --  in internal conflict with their own self.
When the passion of this turmoil reaches sufficient pitch,
the accompanying scene in a man’s mind gets filmed,
regardless of whether it seems at the moment too ironic to fit into
the overall tone of your neural director’s unwritten script,
but the take is not therefore necessarily discarded (if for no other reason than
this ostensible director/script-writer is not actually directing and writing your movie -- though here is another of life’s grand miracles,
in that to this clear and obvious fact men are also made to appear oblivious);
hot scenes are retained and filed away someplace on your studio lot,
and from these out-takes  --  your mind’s image of some occurrence  --
one sided, entertainment-realities are formed to be run, just for an instant perhaps,
at some future date in your head’s theatre (and perhaps at quite unexpected moments) --  but, Hey!  –  it’s a time for fun --  it’s dark in there  –  anything goes!
Don’t sweat it  --  (just watch out for the flying malt balls).
But seriously, folks (“Well finally  --  some humor!”).

A more alert man, with more in mind than just having in mind
whatever happens to flash on his screen, accepts none of these scenes,
so embraced by the collective audience, as representing anything of consequence;
the natural born rebel (for his rebellious nature to bear fruit)
must make the constant inner distinction between entertainment,
and meaningful information (with damn little of that ever shown in your local theatres)  --   you have to go out and independently make such films for yourself;
thus it is that the certain man has no interest in whatever’s being shown,
and is popular with everyone else; he is not hostile to it,
he simply recognizes it as meaningless entertainment, while they do not.
(Oh yeah: if they did  --  this whole shebang would fall apart
[and one rebel says: “So THAT’S what happened to my shebang.”])
 
 

In a back booth were two guys in the sittin’, coffeein’ and reflectin’ mode,
and one of them said:
“The great thing about drugs is that they’ll stop your mind from yackin’ at ya,”
and the other one replied: “I don’t find that to be the case”  --
the first one puzzled over this for a sip or two, then said:
“Perhaps I should have said that the neat feature of drugs is that they will
exaggerate things that your mind wants to talk to you about,”
and the other guy nodded.

(As their overlistening waitress walked away she wondered if either of them
would eventually bring up the matter that is another of life’s true marvels:
that men constantly make reference to what their mind talks to them about
with never a question of what is there in them to be talked to other than their mind.)

Super Sipper’s Tip.
If you push the activity that automatically goes on in the conscious part of your brain beyond what it normally does,
you will discover a whole other universe that men do not know is there
(and if you are up for an especially strong brew, try this:
You will discover a universe that does not exist until  you discover it
[and truly thirsty customers might want to substitute the term: “discover it”
with: “create it,”  for the culinary fact is that in the certain man’s private kitchen,
all food is made entirely from scratch  --   or else he won’t touch it].

Even though info-choking is an illusion:
you still can only so choke by your own hand,
[or put another way]: If you’re made stupid  --  no one’s responsible but you.
The simple fact the few finally realize is that while life’s collective dining room
is set up so that everyone’s mind is being constantly served  --
that doesn’t mean you have to eat it.
[One thing that really annoys ordinary folk and causes them to keep their distance from this kind of activity is how obscenely simple and obvious is
the secret and extraordinary knowledge on which it is based;
seems that only the certain man here & there can chow down on white bread
with the same taste results as others get from eclairs;
if an awakened mind were any plainer, god knows if anyone would ever notice it!])
 
 

In the city, a man recently announced to his fellow bus passengers:
“Experts in every field make up all those fancy terms just to confuse us outsiders.”
(Next stop: Third and Main, followed by: fourth and ten: a kicking situation.)
 
 
 

In an attempt to placate (or perhaps, reward [it’s difficult to decide]):
local conditions offered one man a choice:
he could either be: manic depressive  --  or: just manic.
Fact: When everyone is dumb, it becomes....well....hardly noticeable that anyone is.
Fact: The city protects its own  --  it’s all it has  --  it’s all it is.
Moral: Individual cows have no business criticizing the herd  --
don’t they realize how much more stupid that makes them appear!
(Guess not  --  or they wouldn’t keep doing it, huh?!)
 
 
 

Says one chap: “Personality wise I may be a real rotter,
but I have some awfully nice cells!”
 
 
 

In city reality: right is right, and truth is truth,
and nothing that men can say will change it............................unless they say enough.
 
 
 

Vision News.
You either see or you don’t;
conditional sight (the norm in the city) is actually blindness  --
just institutionally approved.

(Insider’s News: what some minds over thousands of years have labeled:
“The extraordinary experience of a mystical awakening or enlightening”
is actually just an unadorned confrontation with point-blank reality (that is:
not the herd’s collective version, or one containing your personal out-takes).
 
 

If you don’t move-on  --  you’ll die;
everyone is going to eventually die, so:
why not now go on  --  and move-on.

Conversation Between A Mind And What It Has The Man It Is In Call: "Him."
Mind: “Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.”
Him: “I didn’t ask you anything.”
Mind: “Go on: ask me something!  --  ask me something!”
Him: “Hummm  --  okay…”
Mind: “Ha ha! --  got cha!”
Him: “Hummm --  but that was no lie.”
Mind: “Hummm --  well damn’f you didn’t get ME!”
Fact: This will never happen  --  not if you stay in the city.
Him: “Thanks for the tip.”
Mind: “No problem.”
 
 

Visiting for the first time, one of the city’s cabarets, a chap expressed his delight at the performers’ spontaneity and the verve of their witty ad libs, and his host (a local) informed him that they basically gave the same show every night, and that its apparent impromptu nature was simply part of the performance, and upon hearing this, the visitor, just as he was about to be greatly disappointed, suddenly thought: “No wait --  nothing extraordinary here: same as real life.”
 
 

* By nature are men given to the idea that there exists: secret-knowledge, or some: hidden-truth,
    but not to see that such is contained in everyday life --  just in code.