To the simple: Actions speak louder than words –
to the more civilized: Words speak loudest,
but for the rebel , there is something to be heard that is even more meaningful.
 

Men can be civilized in behavior, and civilized in thought;
civilized in behavior does for most men.
   “Boy, oh boy,
    don’t be coy;
    don’t be shy and don’t be sweet,
    don’t dance with me while on my feet.”
Each cow unwittingly carries the whole herd.
   “You’re speaking non literally here, right?!”
(From the first volume in the series: “College Metaphors On Spring Break!”)
Being dense in spots is being dense all over.
   “Is this why those-who-know seem so porous?”
And don’t forget: shallow.
 

Another example of how The Last Word in the city
is not necessary as it purports to be; (listen closely to what one chap there recently had to say):
   “There is a uniqueness that all men hold in common  --
     save for the singularity of the several exceptions:
     this is a law that is unconditional in all circumstances  --
     at least those wherein it is assumed to be.”
 

Man has divided his intellectual, cultural world into different factors:
the arts, politics, religion, literature, education,
because it is his right to do so  --   he made them up!
On some worlds they have never heard of the song:
“They Can’t Take That Away From Me.”
Once upon a time Lancelot said to Guinevere: “Hand me that sword,”
to which she replied: “Are you nuts?  --
how can I possibly do such a thing in our circumstances?!”  --
a comment that suddenly aroused the knight from his dream.
Only by waking up inside the madhouse can you ever grasp the full lay of its land.
   Reading myths from outside
   keeps a man dreamy eyed.
 

   Speaking in rhyme,
    thinking in rhyme,
     lets your mind have,
      itself a nice time.

        Give it a try,
         it’ll make you delirious,
          it’ll make your brain laugh,
           at what you take serious.

 One man’s Revised Political Maxim:
“A nervous system divided against itself cannot.....”
      “Cannot what?”
“Cannot.....something or other.”
       “That’s better.”
 

A man with his hand in your pocket is you.
(In one land they are not familiar with the ditty:
“Don’t Let The Stars Get In Your Eyes Or Your Eyes In The Dirt.”)
A man with his hand on your throat is you.

When you let your first-born mind tell you what to think,
you are taking directions from the dead.
Those themselves, dangerously ill, most respect the departed.
A mind still alive doesn’t take any shit off anybody  -- including itself AND its ancestors.
(The herd dumps on every cow’s foot.)
A mind really free and soaring realizes that it IS its own ancestor.
Case closed!   Put away the files; turn out the lights, and last one to leave town  --
roll up the genetic sidewalk when you go.
 

When one man heard the denouncing axiom:
“The angry have no friends,” he thought:
"Well, Jeeze!  --  what’s the big deal:
why else would anyone want to be angry to begin with!”
In one time zone the creatures never heard the proverb:
   "He who imbibes and falls straight down,
     lives to drink in another town."
 

One guy tried for years to make a big deal out of everything,
(‘til another guy notified him that he held the copyright on the term: big-deal.)
He then adopted as his guiding phrase:
“You win some  --  you lose some  --  and usually can’t tell the difference.”
 

In normal lands: when fault lines get splinters in their feet,
everyone’s flight is canceled.
One tribe has never been exposed to the tune: “Whole Lotta Shakin’ Going On”  --   for the simple reason that they didn’t need  to be: they were the shakers.
In one galaxy you can be either: settled & civilized,
or always on the move & difficult to identify.
   “You mean by others?  --  or by yourself?”
Hey, you must be from there!
What happens once you catch-on to what’s going-on is that
most of your lands disappear:
Atlantis totally swamped by (dare we say it): The Truth.
   “Wow!  --  that was scary!.............(well, I'm sure it would  be scary if I understood it).”
On its great vessel, life has arranged to always have at ready,
imaginary lifeboats for those who dream they want to jump ship.
All closed systems have inherently, built-in schemes of self protection:
good certainly for things physically  --  though mentally, a grind for a few.
What’s good for the herd is good for the herd.               (You’re waiting for more?!)
 

There is a form of nervous system suicide that starts with a letter other than, S,
(and in truth, is not really suicide at all  --
but it looks closer to that than to anything else, so there’s nothing better to call it).

Last one out  --  don’t forget,
throw the switch  --  you sonofabitch!                  (You glorious sonofabitch, it should say).
 

“One man had himself for dinner.”
     “You mean he invited  himself to dinner?!”
“Yeah  --  right  --  that’s what I meant: that’s why I went to all the trouble to mention it. “
 

The positive aspect of living in a herd is that
someone is always waiting up on you when you get home.
    “What kinda big deal is that! -  since you can’t get away from the herd to begin with!