In regard to human affairs: ordinary men say that you can’t have it both ways,
but the certain man has a special edition of this:
he cannot have a three, four, or five dimensional view in only two ways (that is):
via binary sight.
You cannot capture the full significance of a three headed dragon
if you catch him in but two poses.
Whatever your cave-born thoughts say is true  --  is not,
and what they say is not  --   is also not.
It’s hard to see the light if you insist on staying inside where it's dark.
   (”Well shit  --  I knew that.”)
Every time Lancelot would get shot, he’d yell: “I’ve been shot!” --
until finally the rest of the band realized he was actually the anti-Lancelot,
(And for it having taken them so long, King Arthur canceled all weekend passes.)
 
 
 
 
 

“Spiritual mediums & stage mentalists are living proofs of: thought’s power to fool.”
   “But you left out all the other circumstances in which humans talk.”
“I’m sorry  --  you’re right, I did.”
Fact: Ordinary people prefer to think of tornadoes as exceptions to the weather;
lava flows are normal   --  as long as they only hit your neighbor's house;
   “My mind is way too sharp to be taken in by mind things.”
Fact: You cannot see where the Redball Express is headed while you are on it,
and as long as you are the dummy, whatever comes out of the ventriloquist's mouth sounds right to you.                                 (Boy! --  who could have expected that!)
 
 
 
 
 

Medical Rumor.
Some people’s cells gang up on them.

There are things you shouldn’t say to people, but no one can tell you what they are.

Psychological Rumor.
Many people’s cells gang up on them.

In his head, one man does a running commentary to his life:
he thinks of this as him being himself.

All People’s Personalities Prudently Explained.
Everyone’s cells gang up on them.
 
 
 
 
 

How Mind Will Manipulate Even The Impersonal, Technical Matters It Creates.
The primary use of statistics is to scare people.

When two groups meet, there is one question: Who is in charge?
Relate this to the confluence of feelings & thoughts in your nervous system.

A choice is your friend  --  if it is your choice.
To be of ordinary consciousness is to be uncertain of even small things (for instance): whether there is actually any legitimate reason for you feeling uncertain.

The ultimate piece of good news to many is: “You’re going to die.”
“What a relief!” sighed some certain synapses who, within one man,
had seen quite enough.
   “Hey, hold it: how can the brain blame a man for what goes on in it!?”
Same way men blame their brain.
And hearing this little byplay, those synapses then said:
“Now we’re really glad this whole thing is about over.”
Maybe someone should point out to them how unbecoming cynicism is
to neurons..........which ushers the question:
Can you picture an individual cell being sarcastic?  How frightening is that?!  --
yet it must be, or how else could men be?
“Dear Sir: I really don’t like it whenever you start talking about cells rather than
men as whole creatures (who seem to me to be something more than
just the collection of their individual cells).
I wonder why that is? (not enough however to actively seek an answer).  Yours,” etc.
 
 
 
 

Here is what the ordinary mind is not programmed to take in:
Mind is like a telephone over whose neural lines come endless conversation;
this can’t be helped; this is how man is born, but what a few can do
is not pick up the phone.
“Let ‘em yap all they want to  --   who but an idiot complains about unwanted calls
when he has an off switch on the phone’s ringer?!”
(This by the way, is the unrecognized basis of all the methods dedicated to
achieving enlightenment and waking up.)
“Dear Sir: Sometimes I get very interested in a picture you will conjure up,
only to be disappointed when you conclude the matter in a manner much less
verbally specific than I had expected.   What gives?   Sincerely,” etc.
      With you or with me?
No one wrote or called this one man so he did it to himself.
    “Who exactly was this man?”
You don’t wanna know.
    “Sure I do.”
No you don’t   --   or you wouldn’t have to ask who he is.
Parisians (when pressed) all say they’re actually from Marseilles.
    “I don’t get it."
Sure you don’t.

The nervous system’s powers of persuasion make Merrill Lynch look like
a group of girl scouts.
    “It’s neat to be king,” said one twelve inch ruler --
whose kingdom just happened to be a foot square.
    “When I choose to be dense  --   who is there to stop me?!”

There was once a tunnel through a mountain;
it knew it was but a device to connect the two areas at either of its ends;
the mountain however, seemed oblivious to this most obvious fact;
must you be told who and what the mountain is.
    “Hell, that’s not the half of it: what the fuck is the tunnel?!”
Living in echo canyon makes it (shall we say)tricky to ever realize that you are an echo, (okay: that part of your nervous system in charge of giving the running travelogue
to your existence).
    “You know, I have begun to suspect that if I could somehow, get-away-from-me
      I might be able to finally see what is really going on  ---  on  --  on  --  on”
 
 
 
 
 

The Code Can Only Be Cracked By Employing In A Special Way
 The Part Of Your Nervous System That You Hear (Revisited & Expanded).
The certain man’s understanding takes over at the point where:
the metaphor meets the road:
where his specialized mind touches things as they are:
where his unencumbered consciousness confronts unadorned reality;

The Blues As Covert News.
When alone, one man sometimes like to sing:
    "I'm a crawlin' king snake,
      and I rule my den"  --   just for the intimately shared chuckle it gave him and life.
(Although it did secretly bother him some as to why life would laugh along at this.)