A boy asked his father:
“Would you tell me again, perhaps in a new fashion, how it doesn’t matter
what happens to you in life as long as you don’t take it seriously?”
   “My pleasure:
     Cosmic destiny has arranged things so that even the unusually perceptive
     have minor facial imperfections;
     periodic fiscal difficulties,
     and a smattering of what ordinary people call: personal problems  --
     ain’t that a hoot!’
“Indeed, dear dad  --  a doubly delightful one.”
 

Conversation.
“What could be more scrumptious than hearing yourself admiringly talked about?”
    “Being something sufficiently stable and real enough that you can
      disinterestedly think about hearing it talked about?”
“Hum-m-m-m  --  interesting.”
 

After years of travel, study and experimentation a man was suddenly struck with
the insight that all art, literature, music, poetry, and spiritual scripture
men have ever produced are disguised discourses on the power of sex.
For several days afterwards he experienced a strange sort of depression;
then the following Tuesday, while washing dishes,
a surprising question abruptly appeared in his mind:
“Rather than being disturbed by the realization that even the highest of
man’s cultural endeavors are driven by nothing but sex, I should consider:
‘What would be the alternative?’”
(He was so relieved by this that the water spots commonly left on his glasses
no longer seemed bothersome.)
 

The older, less potent and relevant becomes a magazine or a man,
the more do they both begin to indulge in editorial self reference, ad vomitum.
  One man’s genetic pattern (passing itself off as his grandfather) said:
  “If you properly cared for me you would not berate me for getting old,"
  to which the man replied: “And if you were a proper paradigm of our family line
  you would not get old.”
    A most excellent feature of the intellectual/verbal game of: “Got Cha!”
    is that there is no place to hide, and anyone can be made “it”
    whether they agree to it or not.
        (“And I suppose you would say that the supreme player of this game is life.”)
 

One Example.
If mere words could directly open a man’s eyes to what is going on,
then these mere words would do so for most:
When men talk about god it is their mind unknowingly talking about itself.

Attempts to explain why you are as you are is clear proof that you don’t know.
    “Pardon: but would you give the: on-the-other-hand  side of this?”
Not needed.
 

Mining News.
One fellow’s proclaimed latest brain storm (if not minor mental inclemency) is:
“Those who bleach their hair should consider going deeper."
 

If (as ordinary men do) you accept the verbal externalization of your
consciousness’ potential (such as calling it God),
it makes it easier not to make the necessary efforts to fulfill it inasmuch as you can then act as though there is something outside of you that can do it for you.
 

Definition.
Fiction: What people write and live when they don't know what else to do.
 

On one planet their technology was able to produce chip generated voice simulation that was installed in automobiles which, when the driver was seated, would ask:
“Did you remember to fasten your safety belt?”
but over time they discovered that this mechanical reminder had the strongest affect
if it was not restricted to direct queries,
but rather was divided into parts (for example) having your car say:
“Did you fasten your safety belt?”  --  then wait for you to reply,
and if in the affirmative, the faux voice might then say:
“ O! --  I felt sure you did; you always know the right thing to do.”
This more defused approach worked so well in consumer goods that there is talk of trying to apply it to the way the creatures go about thinking.
 

Definition.
Plagiarism: What was once called fiction (and is the life of most people).
 

A father noted to a son:
“Do you know why so many of the stories I make up seem funny?
(like the one about the man who thought he had a brain tumor only to be told:
‘Why you old silly: that’s your brain!’)  --  well, they’re funny for two reasons:
one is: because they’re not funny,
and the other is because of the position a man of our sorts would be in relative to his individually realized consciousness if he treated the routine activity of his mind as anything more than symptoms of a non lethal, totally irrelevant tumorous condition  --  separating himself from which he may carry on quite nicely.”
And the Great Exterminator proclaimed:
“I shall never rest until all rats, roaches, and other forms of vermin and irritation
are irradiated from the life of man!”
Note: The Great Exterminator will never get to rest.)
 

Density Check: Level Seven.
Those who criticize their parents do not know who their real parents are.
 

Gym-Theatre Notice.
The tryouts were held before you got here.
 

A man who-knows-what's-going-on could not talk to other people about god
(since he would know what god actually is):
such a person could not speak to others about margarine while
understanding that what they want to know about  is butter.
 

Merely having thoughts makes everyone slightly ill;
some are bothered by it more than others,
but all men feel put off balance and confused by them;
the only one free of this malady is the man who has pinned consciousness to the wall and made it give up the goods.
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

JAN'S DAILY FRESH NEWS