A man who compares himself to someone else doesn’t have a self substantial enough to talk about on its own, hence the need to bring someone else’s into the conversation.
Fleas seem more formidable when spoken of in the same sentence as elephants
(is how mind works when it comes to words).
 
 
 
 

Men’s ordinary mental activity is like a handball game in which
other people’s thoughts are the front, play wall,
but the nervous system rebel takes his version of the sport
far away from any enclosed area.
Motto: Spread it out as far as possible.
 
 
 
 

One chap’s prayer (indicative of the whole city’s population):
“Oh Lord, make me caring and compassionate  --  in appearance that is, of course.”
Men take no account of the power they give to intangible words
to describe material matters;
the somatic reality of another commonly pales in light of your mind’s
verbal limning of him;
pictures are not worth thousands of words; they are worth nothing without words.
The mind, in words, speaks:
the mind, using words as ears, then hears itself speak;
when a neural connection announces that it is six feet tall with curly blonde hair
and the philosophical talent of Plato, there are none to dispute it, and it to confirm it.

Ordinary men make a mighty, myopic misstep in condemning verbal-trickery
and illusion: they can make it sound despicable in isolated examples
(but fiction can be whatever the author wants it to be),
while totally ignoring the salient reality that it is only such that keeps man’s
non technical, survival related speech alive.
All that routine men talk about that does not concern the material environment
is based on verbal deceit;
men’s minds call only the physical elements what they really are
(water, water; coal, coal) all else it misnames;
everything that makes up his cultural/spiritual/intellectual & artistic life is described,
and defined erroneously  --   consistently so and without exceptions.

Nothing in man’s mentally created, other reality is ever labeled what it clearly is,
for if it were, no one would ever speak of it again;
god, or truth for instance, cannot be called what they actually are
or they would disappear from his conversations.
The material things in this universe exist and continue to do so whether men
speak of them or not, whereas the multitude of immaterial ones
so important to men’s lives must not only be spoken of to come into instant existence,
but must also be mislabeled to be sustained,
(man’s other reality cannot be maintained by him pointing to empty space and saying: “There is my imagination of a beautiful woman,”
but rather by identifying the nothingness as: The Virgin Mary, or Snow White,
or even: Justice  --  then you’re in business.)

From this perspective comes another explanatory view of why
a man-who-knows-what-is-going-on will not talk about himself;
the way to clear ones sight is not by piling illusion on illusion.
When mind talks about man’s non physical features it is attempting to talk about itself;
the ordinary mind cannot talk about itself meaningfully, so all it says about itself
(man’s intangible characteristics) is faulty from the outset.
Validly can the mind note that your ass is wide,
but cannot in truth say that your compassion is;
it can certainly say it, but it has no way of measuring a fiction it has created.

A man-who-knows-what-is-going-on lets things of substance speak for themselves (understanding that they do not need his comments)
and those without,  he also leaves to their own devices
(understanding that anything said about them is mirage piled upon mirage).
Lions will do their own roaring --   men must provide the voice for dragons and gods, and matters that exist only in their mind.
Seeing what‘s really going on with life does not turn you into a foe of
sprites and unicorns;
your mind can still appreciate entertainment  --
it just no longer misnames it something else.
 
 
 
 

The Mythical Quest As Erotic Allegory.
One guy reports: “A horny man’s a happy man  --
when he realizes the object of his erection, I mean, affection.”
A stiff mind is a werrible thing to taste.
 
 
 
 

Mind As A Handball Game.
The thinking of those in the city could not operate without a front wall.
 
 
 
 

The ordinary love to speak of man’s need to continually: recreate himself --
this helps lend a respectable patina to his ongoing plagiarism.