December 16, 2003                                                                  ©2003: JAN COX
 
 
 
 

In his speech, one man would sometimes make reference to Samuel Pepys, pronouncing the English diarist's name as: Pep-pees
usually to the consternation of his sophisticated conversational companions,
who he never let know that he knew better: it was something he did to amuse himself.
Which leads a chap to ponder:
“How do men come to take their mental sophistication as being personally significant;  acting as though their knowing a certain date in history,
the term for a particular style of painting, or the correct pronunciation of a name
is emblematic of their innate superiority –
ignoring that they had to learn such things same as everyone else?
All told: what order of torpidity is required for a creature who can think
to feel himself distinguished by the fact that he is aware of the collectively agreed upon details of the cultural fairy tales concocted by his predecessors?”
 
 
 

People who say they: want to make a difference simply have nothing better to say.
 
 
 

Men’s many fictional diversions (movies, novels, video games)
only survive by men in their minds  --  taking sides;
indeed, this is how his entire cultural world continues.
Had men no meaningless electrochemical preferences,
on this planet there would be no politics, psychology, religion, or comedy clubs.
 
 
 

Conversation.
“Maybe the way you know for sure that you finally understand completely what is going on is that you no longer care at all that anyone else be aware that you do.”
    “But an imbecile could be like that.”
 “......Well......yeah.”
 
 
 
 

When it comes to the syllabuses men, via their contrived institutions
offer as guides to living: the printed program for any truly alive performance
is out of date as it rolls off the press.
    “Is this related to the mind being the last to know?”
“I’m telling you: is this a fantastic planet or what!
A place where the smartest is the dumbest; the fastest, the slowest.
Jeeze! --  without this inner floor show, we’d all bore to death.”
 
 
 
 

TheDistinction Between Public Forms Of The Certain Extraordinary Activity,
AndThe Unseen Version.
The really, REALLY hip never seem hip;
fully functioning consciousness appears effortless.
    If you work up a sweat,
    you’re not a good bet.

Seafaring News.
Getting on a boat with a captain who will not give his sailing credentials is like
asking to eventually have holes poked in the bottom of your own personal dinghy --
by you!......eventually.
The well wrapped warrior's war cry:
“I’ll go down by no hand but mine!”                            (Of course he would never say this aloud.)
 
 

Making fun of other people’s words & life is not the same thing as doing so of yours --  in fact, there is no such thing as the former  --  only children’s imagination that there is.
    No ship sinks but thine, Dr. Kline.
No matter what the day was like, one man would always to himself say: “What a day.”
(One guy’s slogan is: “Why not?!”)
 
 
 
 

In a granted, intricate (though quite operational sense)
a rebel’s overt tongue could be termed his own: advocatus-diaboli (devil’s advocate)
in that his speech to ordinary men secretly argues perforce against
his own wordless understanding.
Only tiny scorpions (with brains to match) strike to knowingly make others feel bad.
(One man’s motto is: “Let it go.”)
 
 
 
 

One day one guy was dismayed when glancing up,
he thought he saw rust stains on the ceiling of his shower;
he later realized he had been looking internally.
(Even the most cosmopolitan of neurosurgeons suffer sticker shock
when a painter hands him the bill.)
In city buildings: cosmetic work can seem costlier than structural.
 
 
 
 

A son asked a father:
“Do you actually like me as much as you seem to, or are you just being pleasant?”
     “Are you sure you want to know?”
Conversation.
“The dumb think they want to know everything.”
     “What’s dumb about that?”
“Gee.......I guess I don’t know.”
 
 
 
 

As a private amusement: one guy would write about characters like the man who would sometimes make reference to Samuel Pepys and knowingly mispronouncing the diarist’s name while never letting on that he knew better.
And a chap muses: “Why would anyone do that?” -- for the same reason perhaps that
alternative medicine is to the medical establishment as cults are to the major religions, also as the nervous system rebel is to normal ideas and human attitudes.
 
 
 
 

In many of his films, a certain movie director has an overhead microphone
clearly visible in important scenes, a matter which he finally spoke of,
saying that the device served three purposes:
one was just to irritate some in the audience;
a second was to remind some engrossed viewers that their attention was being held
by an activity that was artificial and meaningless,
and a third reason was just to irritate some more.
(Private jokes are no longer private when made public.)