Noted
a father to a son:
“You
err to say that another man’s thinking about non material matters is wrong,
for
if he thinks it is right -- it is right;
it
may be ridiculous and impossible, but he may be from a past era,
and
it seem correct to him;
let
it go at that.
The
world is not only spatially big enough for everyone’s ideas,
but
sufficiently large also to accommodate those from all intellectual times.
Dinosaurs,
Huns and witch hunts are still with us my boy,
just
check with the natural born part of your own mind.”
What
gives man’s cultural reality its reality is:
all
the imagining
of what it is,
combined
with all the complaints about what it is not.
The
substance of this intangible reality is that of the air inside a balloon
keeping it up.
Posture
to an athlete is everything -- until he is dying --
then
dying is.
“Keep
it up! -- that’s my motto!”
“Keep what up?”
"Yes!”
What
mechanism is at work in man that allows him to say with confidence
that
he knows himself well while he repeats behavior which he has every reason
to
know he will afterwards regret? How can he know such --
yet continue doing it?
(“I’m
sorry: I don’t have a motto for that one.”)
Those who talk about their race, religion or culture do not have a realized man’s core.
One
man says he suspects that being dead is like being in a dream that never
ends
(but
adds this now makes him unsure if being alive is as distinct a state
as
he’d always assumed).
The
name of one world’s vade mecum is: How
Can You Tell?
(a
tome they apply to all situations).
Employee
Fact.
If
part time help keeps hanging around,
they’ll
find more to do.
(For
the few that should be titled: Employee
Warning.)
“Drive
the scalawags out!”
“What if they won’t go out?”
“Ignore
‘em into atrophy.”
Until
no one else’s ideas compare at all in attractiveness to yours,
you
have not discovered the full use of the mind.
Frequently
would one man look at his reflection in a mirror and say:
“Don’t
get too
frisky, young pup, remember: life’s got another one just like us.”
The
mythology of one world says that the transcendental experience of waking
up
to
what’s going on is not something that one does, but that one realizes;
that
the mystical quest is not someplace that a man goes,
but
begins to recognize as his everyday surroundings.
Motto:
If you ain’t got it -- you ain’t gettin’ it.
The
realized man has no interest in what other people think
(unless
it is about his malfunctioning car or liver).
The
Chemistry lore of one people says that their god created god coincidentally
at
the same moment their brains created mind.
(Their
motto used to be: “It’s A Small World”
-- then something happened!
“O -- I know what it was! -- I know!”)
Conversation.
“Physical
reality IS a small world, in that
what
constituted iron yesterday, still does today;
about
all matters in man’s intangible mental world, no such can be said, but
no matter: no one notices.
The
great airship of culture and spirituality was constructed to fly without
fuel:
grasp
it! -- and get over it.
In
one land the people can see the color red correctly, but not yellow, but
it's okay: what they see as being yellow is what yellow is (as far as anyone
there can determine).
Fact:
The mind of the man who understands what's going on can’t be determined.”
“Question: Does that mean that even HE can’t determine?”
“Even
if he can, the point is that he wouldn’t let himself state such a finding.”
“Man! -- that’s hard to understand.”
“Yes
-- unless you do.”
“Why is everything worthwhile to me like that?”
“Consider:
how could it not be like that and BE worthwhile?”
“That’s even weirder.”
“No
it’s not.”
“You’re right, of course.”
In
the certain man -- the conversation never ends,
and
only in him does it go anywhere.
(The
secret name of the city is: Just
Around The Next Bend.)
One
day one guy wondered:
“Who
is denser: those who criticize life,
or
those who bother to say that there is nothing TO criticize.”
The
only ships about which passengers are warned of their sinking
are
those not sinking.
“(That
reminds me): HELP! -- my consciousness
is submerging in my mind.”
Technocrats
can stand straight when artists they absorb.
Troops
of philistine armies are taught to continually look back over their shoulder
-- since they will not be looking ahead.
(By
the by: What do you think civilians are actually referring to in the term:
knight
blindness?)
“I believe you have made a spelling error.”
Warriors
don’t HAVE to spell.
Architectural
News.
One
man’s latest development: A corrugated brain roof.
(“More
efficient shedding of overflows,” says he.)
“Pa
pa: why do dogs sleep so much?”
“Their consciousness does only canine work -- and no more,”
and
the boy went away wondering whether within the idea of consciousness taking
care of only certain business and nothing more might lie the key to the
quest.
And
one man says: “My motto is: You never know ‘til you try --
and
have the ability to realize futile effort when you meet it.”
“And I’m guessing the last part to be the important.”
Confidential
Inner-Office Memo At One City Firm.
“Security
guards should not be allowed to talk to one another, or themselves.”
A
man stepped onto the pedestrian island amidst busy traffic,
raised
his arms for attention and declared:
“A
man’s sense of an inner self is to him as a goose is to its honk,”
and
from a stopped car someone shouted: “Don’t you have that backwards?”
and
the man began flapping his arms and flew away -- ass first.
J
An
allegory that can’t be pictured should’ve stayed home with its mama.
JAN'S
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