Conversation.
“Just as real men don’t fall in love: genuine warriors only slay those whose death
gives them pleasure.”
    “But I’ve always heard the opposite: that the samurai for instance
     would never kill when they were angry.”
“I didn’t say anything about anger  --  I said pleasure!”
    “And with the probable insinuation that you’re speaking of something other than
     the physical murder of another person.”
More than fleshy delights do many men enjoy talking;
there are however certain people so selective that they seldom speak.
    “How about to their self?”
Who knows?  --  real men don’t talk-&-tell  --  even concerning their self.
Certain items that the real-deal-man gathers up, he could lose
through a hemorrhaging of attempting to describe them to others.
Catching on to what’s going on is the only sport in the universe in which
once you finally score, you get to keep the imaginary ball,
which allows you to forget that you ever thought it really existed.
If there was a muse of waking-up, his face would always be hidden, his name unknown, and if you tried to introduce him around  --  he would vanish.
 
 
 

In the dictionary naturally present in men’s minds:
all words have their serious definition;
an ordinary man’s mental vocabulary is ridiculous.
(Of course to him even that word has its serious side.)

    Question: Would you advertise: Fleas For Sale in The Canine Journal?
 
 
 

Investment Advice.
In the cultural affairs of man, when the obvious speaks  --  no one listens.
A man said to his mind:
“When the price reaches half of where it was when you and I opened for business  --  SELL!” --  to which it replied:
    “As long as we stay like everyone else  --   that day will never come.”
 
 
 

When he heard someone follow a puzzling and seemingly dumb comment they’d made with the explanation: “I’m just being silly,” one man thought:
“That’s me living my life!”
 
 
 

A real-deal-man doesn’t believe or disbelieve the things that concern ordinary men  --  he doesn’t think about them.
 
 
 

One fellow says he often tries to prepare himself for a particular upcoming something so far in advance that he ultimately forgets what it was he’d prepared for
in the first place.
(From the corner of his grinning mouth he also said this gave him over
thirty four laughs to the gallon.)

When you’re ugly you can afford to be patient.
Maxim Update: All things come.
One man named his first born son: Eventually,
(for reasons he says are too obvious to mention).
 
 
 

Amidst the ever dizzying whirl of modern life, one man says he sometimes has trouble telling the difference between being out of town and being out of mayo.

Hormones have particular zones to call home:
neurons can hack it anywhere  --
they appear not to  --  which is what makes possible bookmaking and debates.
In an allegorical setting: real men would be hormones (and you can figure from there the sort who’d play the part of neurons.)
    “Okay --  I believe I see your point, but answer me this:
Where would we be were it not for the contributions of neuron driven men?
Wouldn’t we be living the brutish life of animals, with no technology, and no culture?!
.....Well?.....are you going to respond?.....”

Into the attorney's office came a man with a cheap briefcase and matching nose
who wanted to sue his parents on the basis that his dream had always been to be
a famous author but that they had put an insurmountable stumbling block in his path by having not mistreated him properly as a child.
The demands of the unique world created by man’s words are harsh,
not harsh in the do-or-die sense faced by his body, but in a most complex fashion:
he struggles to get-somewhere; to be-a-success in a realm in which there is no physical up or down; hot or cold; nourishing or poison;
to move ahead in this intangible sphere requires not only that you invent
your own “ahead” but that it be one which large numbers of other people
will accept as being ahead.
When you do not triumph in your dream of being Hercules
the blame can be laid to the people of Greece  --  it’s your dream  --
you can make it do as you like.
 
 
 

Sitting by the river in the city was a man who noted:
“The one benefit to being able to talk is in being able to say that you were misquoted.”
The man-who-knows is always misquoted.
    (“I assume that here you mean something other than the literal.”
With the real-deal-mind: everything is always something more than the literal.)
 
 
 

A certain athletically inclined man has a special pair of shoes
only into which will he put his feet to do serious running:
he notes that he would like to have something equally as contributive
for his mind to slip into.....but says he doesn’t know if such exists.....and if it does,
he wonders if he is smart enough to ever locate it.
 
 
 

Definition.
All the ideas ordinary men have purporting to explain life
are electrochemical impulses with an inherent glitch.
 
 
 

With the civilized you can always get an answer even when your question is unclear.
   (“When you say: the civilized, are you talking about other people,
      or a certain area of your own neural system?”)
 
 
 

Man’s Second Reality Ballroom.
The obvious will say: “Dance?  --  ME?”  --  pretending it hardly ever comes here.
 
 
 

Talking is the only human activity in which one always runs the risk of being ridiculous.
 
 
 

Just as a bumbling felon will attempt to conceal one crime
by the commission of another:
so too does man’s collective intelligence move from one invented truth to another.
 
 
 

Once the king had grasped the meaning of: hypocrisy, he said:
“There is no need to speak this word with disparagement,
for to rule, ‘tis as necessary as an army.”
    (“I’m figuring again that this king actually has something to do with man’s mind.")
 
 
 

Looking at city college, one guy asks:
“If education and facts are as all-mighty important as men keep saying
then how come they don’t require random hormone tests of all professors?”
 
 
 

Everything the nervous system rebel discovers is for the first time  --  all over again.
 
 
 

One man’s inner life was such that when he decided he did believe in reincarnation, every dead person in earshot said: “Hey!  --  don’t look at me!”
 
 
 

From any perspective: There are always two distinctly separate parts to man  --
except that they’re not separate at all.
What seemed to have shocked one man into clear vision was that one day
while looking at himself in the mirror he realized that even though he has two eyes  --  their existence is confined to one face.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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