Outsmarting The Ostensible Ruler Of Your Mental Kingdom.
A man once bought a fine horse from a farmer and after paying,
asked him to keep possession of the steed until the following week,
and when he returned to fetch his purchase found that the animal had died;
declining the seller’s offer to dispose of the carcass, he arranged to have it shipped to his home, withholding any comment regarding his reason for such strange action.
Some time later the farmer saw the buyer and asked again about the use he had
for the dead horse and the man finally responded, telling how he had set up a raffle for: A Fine Horse, and selling several thousand tickets whose aggregate amount
far surpassed what he had paid for him alive;
the seller was quite astonished at this news and said:
“There must be many people angry at you now!” to which the man replied:
“No --  just one: the winner of the drawing  --  and I gave him his ticket price back.”
That is all you need do: out think, out flank, out foozle the one intangible thing which you and your mind still believes can, may and should actually exist,
regardless of what reality has to say on the subject.
 
 

According to one telling of it: after death when you stand before the angel
guarding Heaven’s gate, you are told that what you did in life has no bearing on whether you are admitted or not, and that the only thing that matters now is that
you empty your pockets and otherwise completely rid yourself of all traces
of your life on Earth;
it is also said that many people after saying that they have met said requirement,
and step through the detection device at the gate, are discovered to have secreted somewhere on their person a favored remnant of their mortal existence:
not simply a crumb of a cookie, or a lover’s ear ring, but a prejudice; a hope, a fear,
a hatred: they all being the same thing with the same result (that is):
a solitary, hold-out belief that at least one matter in the intangible world did actually exist: a clinging to which keeps you from entering Paradise (i.e. from waking up).
    “Would this include a dead horse?”
 

Having thoughts makes man alone able to experience survival essential features without a sensual basis:
animals only feel the stress of fright when some noise, smell or visual clue
makes them physiologically feel fear,
but men can simply think about something fearful with same result.
While all creatures can multi task (smell and see simultaneously, e.g.)
man has an additional  unique ability: he can be utilizing any of his senses,
and at the same time be thinking about what he is seeing, smelling, hearing, tasting, touching, but note: all such thinking is in hard fact: remembering --
even when thoughts are on times yet to chronologically be,
what is being imagined in the future is based entirely on experience from the past.
The Rebel’s Wrap Up to this:
Reminiscing is the ruination of life;
remembering ideas is fine, but doing so feelings spells murder;
reminiscing ideas is science & technology;
reminiscing emotions is sleep & needless suffering.
 
 

There are only two things you can talk about: objects and words,
and humanity is divided into two groups: those who like best to talk about objects,
and those who enjoy talking most about words;
only the real-deal-man sees this situation stripped to what it is.

    In the study of science:
    the physical conditions dictate what is discovered and measured:
    the study of culture is dictated by nothing  (save the imagination of the studier)  --
    quite a distinction  --  and one unacknowledged by the ordinary.
 
 

The ideas life normally broadcasts to your mind will, at times throughout your life --
let you down.
 
 

A man on a mission to save humanity cares more about you than you do yourself.
(Headline: Reality In The City.)
 
 

One man says that while he kept close track of the Renaissance,
and was quite mindful of the Reformation,
he does admit to dozing off frequently though The Age Of Reason.
 
 

The ole man said to a kid:
“A devil-may-care-attitude looks good only on either: a devil  --  or:
one who may care,” and the youth thought:
    “That is absolutely the stupidest truism I’ve ever heard, but hey! --
      I’m good with it either way.”
 
 

One man suffering a fatal illness always looked forward to the weekends
when it was not possible to reach his physician and ask questions about his condition.
(Another chap studying to awaken under the guidance of a guru
some times feels similarly  --
and still another guy says he enjoys it when he is under the sway of drugs or alcohol because he knows then without any doubt that everything he is thinking is bullshit.)
 
 

One guys says: “I am as tired of being pushed around by my synapses
as ordinary people are by god  --  PLUS!  --  what I am truly sick of is not being able to grasp the nature of this ‘I’ that says such things as this!   Just  -- fuck it all!”
(he concluded in what clearly seemed to be a code of some sort).
 
 

Since no one knows in advance which will be the final dead horse they abandon
that precedes their eyes opening, such a person (being exemplary of thoroughness)
takes no chances and lets go of all mental steeds whose health is at all questionable.
    “But couldn't that include all routine ideas?”
Close enough.
 
 

In one city the entire population is involved in talking-analysis --
and this includes those who have never even heard of psychiatry.
(Oh yeah --  that city is everybody’s city.)

One guy’s diagnosis: “Waking-up is just an excuse for not doing drugs.”