People with little substantial going on in their head love to fill it and make it
feel more solid with heroic myths and spiritual tales:
a shoring up of weak concrete with imaginary silly putty  --
and with ordinary men  -- it works!
“Yes,” said some local conditions to a young apprentice,
“all that matters with any matter in life is that  --  it works,”
and life overhearing this mused:
“Right! --  and if you understood what you just said you wouldn't be working for me.”
Resistance is the real slavery.
    “I thought foolishness was.”
Okay: resistance where it is foolish.
Afloat in the collective sea: everyone's ordinary mind is battered by
the endless waves, and those who do not understand where they are
continually curse or cry about the conditions.

The speaker in city park so harangued the passing throng:
“Though un credited: Man’s mind is omnipotent, omnipresent and omniscient…”
    “No, no!” shouted out a voice, “you’re talking about God,”
and the speaker yelled back: “See!  --  not lightly do I use the term: un credited.”

Through his employment of routine talk, life does not expect man to
make his intangible world better or worse  --  just more complicated.
(The fancier the costume the better.)
 

One man offers: “Viewed in the best light: all the world’s proclaimed methods
to achieve enlightenment are the musing of one awakened man’s mind
that at one time amused him.”
For certain private pleasures to be made public they must be codified and
cast in bronze.
    “Like baby shoes?!”
Exactly.
 

In prison everyone sings one of two popular songs, either:
“Let Me Tell You How Crappy I’ve Had It,” or: “Let Me Tell You How Great I Am,”  both crooned to the same tune, and with equal measures of originality and knowledge-based inspiration.
    (“Are we supposed to guess the size of the measure?”)
 

Mind’s Automatic Concept Of Where The Benefit Lies.
When he heard an organization promote the fact that they neuter dogs and cats free,
a man puzzled: “Well what animal would pay for it?!”
 

A father noted to a son:
“Catching on to what is going on is like bursting a blister that
you didn’t even  know existed.
Could there be any pastime more exhilarating than this:
the ultimate payoff being the eye-popping explosion of a whole world,
over in a whole different direction from where you believed you were headed.
And speaking of that:
How does the word, head manage to end up in every conversation we have?!"
 

Ordinary Minds’ Unpublished Motto.
“I can bear others being richer than me  --  but not their seeming more carefree.”
What makes impending death tolerable for creatures without thoughts
is their awareness of how seriously humans take the matter.
    (“I don’t get it,” said his trainer: “Shut up,” said the lion.

One city dude (and part time rube) offers:
“If pushed on the subject: most people would say that they: ‘don’t think’
because they are too busy thinking about something else.”
The ordinarily raised mind will plead: “But I only have one hand!”  --
getting past this requires the self inflicted instruction so eagerly sought by
the nervous-system-rebel.
 

The Inner Architecture: Features Of Prison Structures.
While it is not possible to: See too far for your own good,
it is possible to do so to no advantage to those on the lower floors.
    “Are you talking about other people, or other areas of my  mind?”
Both, Lank Floyd.
 

Urban Employment News.
The new responsibilities that go with any job promotion for local conditions
consist of them becoming more complicated.
Medical Parallel.
Normal consciousness does not increase in actual size during time,
but merely becomes bloated.
    (“Here, here!  my good apothecary: a bromide for my thoughts!”     [Better than a penny.])
 

As distinct from the ordinary mind’s conception of a tripartite time:
the rebel’s past, future and present are all in the same moment; a mutinous sailor’s unplottable pleasure that comes from all waves being the same to him:
“The sea is the sea; the whitecaps, passing cold snaps.”
The warmth that comes from turning that certain corner  --   never leaves.
    (“Is this why the ground temperature in the graveyard is always higher
       in the Awakened Man’s Section?”)
 

Regarding Royalty And Their Lack Of Loyalty To A Particular Residence.
When the King travels  --  he doesn’t have to pack.
Corollary: Only peons have an entourage.
Not for the rebel is: The more the merrier  --  but the inhibiting.
That part of consciousness the nervous system rebel’s seeks and needs
is the epitome of a loner: that is what makes it so valuable.