How Life Works: Part Sixty Six.
In one man’s back yard
it would get warm and sunny in the spring
just to lull him into a sense of happiness.
 
 
 
 

The heroes local herds have are not unlike a community sport
in which everyone can participate.
Collective minds need collective dreams;
phantom armies  --  phantom leaders;
perfunctory thinking  --  only ideas that comfort the perfunct.
 
 
 
 

Another distinction: the ordinary talk about individuals,
the man-who-knows  --   about man.
The subjects men commonly discuss  (such as: psychology, sociology, religion,
the arts, and politics) they invented to keep from talking about the real subject,
(but the certain man sees to the core of what others skim).
    “High butterfat, me lad!  --  that’s the key.”
 
 
 
 

Unexpectedly,
one day as they were trotting along
a man’s horse looked over his shoulder and said to him:
“To be immortal is to be immobile,”
and later, back home, the man pondered whether his steed had referred to
actually being immortal, or just being able to think of such a thing?!
    On one riding trail, you can’t die unless you know what death is,
    while on a secret one wandering through the woods,
    you can’t be distracted unless you’ve become addicted to distraction
    same as everyone else, and same as them  --  never got over it.
        Knowing in hormones that you’re going to die,
        and in neurons, that distraction is man’s normal condition,
        is what moves the certain man off the common path.
 
 

How Life Works: Part Sixty Seven.
In one man’s back yard
it would get chilly and dark in the fall,
just to cause him a sense of depression.
 
 

On his quest in his own neural kingdom,
one knight slew all the war lords by beating them to death with bankers,
and the dragons with fashion designers,
maneuvers that totally flummoxed the expectations of the neurons
witnessing the events.
The city side of the mind sets up the illusory situations,
and never anticipates a rebel stepping outside of town,
and being able to draw in hormones to his side.
Fact: A peaceful land is an unnatural land (and an additional fact):
All who-know, live in an unnatural, neural locale.
(“The great thing about this spot is the total lack of any neighbors!”)
The planet’s population is on the train  --  but only one man ever gets off.
 
 
 
 

As he watched the cream spread evenly throughout his coffee,
then glanced down at the cat on the floor, a man mused:
“Are the other creatures so far behind man because they cannot  change along with changing conditions?  --  OR: are they born incapable of  changing along with
changing conditions to keep them from being like man?”  --
“In either case,” thought the cat: “Man-is-man  --  and that’s the way it is.”
 
 
 
 

A son asked a father:
“Do only those dying, or afraid of dying, think about death?”
     “Do only the stupid think about stupidity?”
 
 
 
 

One man named his primary place of residence:
“The Regeneration Of The Mind Even As The Body Runs Down.”
(He had to keep this to himself,
or else no neighborhood would have tolerated his presence.
“I know!” joked one chap: “I can just barely stand me.”)
 
 

How Life Works: Part Sixty Eight.
In one man’s back yard
it would get warm and sunny in the spring,
then get chilly and dark in the fall,
over and over again,
establishing in the man, a sense of reliability.
In all men’s yards do they mentally experience all manner of false sensations  --
some based on actual events; some not.
The man alone who cleans out his yard, can make the distinction.
 
 

People who say that: “Life doesn’t understand them” are half right.
(“That strikes me as absolutely astounding!”
       And you’re fifty per cent justified in feeling so.)
 
 

This email just in:
“In a news item yesterday it was reported that a sure way to determine that
you are part of a conspiracy is if you get angry at monopolies, my question is:
which conspiracy are you referring to?”
    The Stupid Conspiracy, sir  --  the stupid one.
 
 
 
 

Time Outside The City.
The future is now,
and it is spatial;
it is here presently  --  and is in you.
If neurons do not manhandle time,
time will manhandle your hormones.
“But won’t they, no matter what you do?!”
Yes, but if you strip your thinking away from the matter,
it still makes a difference to the few.
We're all destined for Dusseldorf,
but the journey requires that only most men think about it.
    Precept Of One Land.
      To think about things hormonal is to fret  (if it is not about food or sex  --
      and even about those, some travelers can still get disturbed.

One father told a son: “For gawd’s sake:
if you do ever feel like you are developing: a philosophy-of-life  --
at least don’t mention it!”
(He later added: “’Cause if you stay on the quest,
you’re going to have a string of fleeting, soon-forgotten ones long after that one.”)