A speaker in city park said to the crowd which had momentary gathered:
“If my family had a motto,” then interrupted himself to note that in truth he should say: “If I had a family then its motto might be,” and someone shouted out that
it is precisely this sort of meaningless mental wandering that so debases the value of public discourse, which the speaker ignored and pressed on:
“If I had a family and it had a motto it would be:
'Those Attempting To Save The Whole World Are Wrecking Mind,'”
and after some seconds of really phat silence as the crowd pondered the previously unnoticed similarity and  possible connection between the possessive pronoun, mine and the word the speaker had surprisingly used where it had been expected,
someone in the crowd muttered that the entire episode had: “Hardly been worth it,”
to which the speaker return-muttered: “What is?!”  --
a comment which seemed to mark the end of this urban interlude.
Notice: It is only in the civilized and relatively safe areas,
not the feral, blood drenched jungles that creatures are concerned with the idea that their world, associates and foes need managed protection to survive.
Hormones, the most physically dangerous of entities
express ne’er a concern for anyone while physically impotent neurons
prattle on endlessly about their distress over the human condition.

The lead investigator,
while admitting he has no solid theory to explain how the event occurred,
does say he has a theory as to what sort of theory would be required to do so.
 
 

After almost every thought, one man slaps himself on the forehead and privately exclaims: “Why didn’t I think of this before!?”
 
 

Another description of what this kind of activity is:
The relentless painting-yourself-into-a-corner until the corner ceases to exist.
 
 

In a certain never-never (well: almost never) land
everyone’s final words are always both brilliant and  incomprehensible.
 
 

No one but the certain man himself has the slightest  idea of the fun he has
privately in his own head.
 
 

In one land, the king (in regard to things which he should hear about)
constantly insisted: “I don’t want to hear about it!”
The balancing act of the most ordinary of minds will put to shame
even the most remarkable of tight rope walkers.
 
 

Yet additional words limning the nervous system rebellion:
It is to help a few take in fully the nature of their captive individuality so that they can finally move on to something both more interesting and profitable.
 
 

Every kingdom comes into existence with two regents  --
a fact seldom realized by the people  --
an ignorance commonly shared by the two in power.
Question: What harm can unawareness equally spread around do?
    (“Matters of politics, and control do not interest me: I am an artist! --
       an intellectual!  --  a man of the spirit!”
Ride on Josephine, ride on.)

One fine day (actually somewhere between Fine and Coarse #3)
a man sat his long time apprentice down and somberly said:
“My boy, I have finally come to realize that some of what I have told you
throughout the years is not correct, in the sense of it being objectively operational,” and pensive silence hung between them as the younger began to methodically
unfurl a brightly painted banner that said: “Welcome To The Club.”
As a group: cows can all eventually see-the-light  --
except for those who see a second light  --
then you have the appearance of two clubs: the Orthodox-Conservative
and the Progressive-Liberal.
The human mind can only be confused and distracted when supported by
two healthy legs.
    “Yes dear colleagues: every day is a fine day when you’re in the herd.”
 
 

Seeing The Special Disappeared.
In a multifarious and omni related reality such as ours it is inevitable (maybe)
that at some time some thing may get out to the edge and fall into another actuality;
when this happens  --  and it is seen (as in witnessed) by
someone in the original location  --  it is not seen   -- see?!
    (“Where did I go?” asks a man who went.)
 
 

A note found under a short tree in city park says:
“The kind of person who will not change their mind
is the same sort who used to court my sister  --
when she lived above my frontal lobes.”
A prime attraction of religion and all institutions is their persistence;
hormones, even under the direst of circumstances, will eventually give in,
but not neurons  -- not when they have a good grip on the Cheshire Cat’s tail.
    (“I prefer: 'Snow White by the tit' --  but that’s just a personal preference.”)

One man continually tries to translate everything he says & thinks into a language.
 
 

How The Real Deal Man Holds To Awakening.
The way to swat Tsetse flies is to not hold them in your mind.
    (“I am always annoyed when I hear simple solutions offered to problems which
       I have found formidably complex,”
after making this statement the speaker seemed to ponder it for a bit  --  then asked:
“I wonder if this has caused me to miss things that could have been helpful?”
Being irritated has facilitated more men’s escape from prison than has
a thousand cakes with notes baked inside.
(Remember: A tip to the wise is the same as a tip to nitwits.
    “That’s what I love about living where I do: Everything costs the same!  --
whether it’s shoddy and useless  --   or extremely shoddy and useless  --
doesn’t matter: it all costs the same.       [You gotta love it here!]”
One man’s private name for DoingTheThing is: “Compared To What?!”)
 
 

In the hallway outside the city’s International Pastimes Convention
one delegate was overheard saying to another:
“The biggest pleasure in laughing at someone else’s interest is that
it’s not really funny.”
 
 

Public Weather (As In Temperament) Prognostications.
Dull forecasts apply only to dull people.
 
 

One chap insists that he would not be: “As we see him now”
had he not let one part of his brain: “Get the better of him.”
On one world they do not allow children  --  even in harmless sport --
to interchange the words: “river,” and: “flow.”
The king of verbs is always being subtly threatened by the chamberlain of nouns.
You can only be bedazzled by dreams by being a sleeper  --
the mere act of sleeping won’t do it.
(Put another way): Being a dropped rock doesn’t make you dense  --  being a rock does.
    (“I personally find it aggravating to have something I didn’t understand --  restated,
       but that’s just me.”)
 
 

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