Man’s physical life is composed of a half dozen significant, redoable things;
his intangible life is made up of a lot of little meaningless things which
he also reuses incessantly.
    (“Isn’t that precious  --  the infinite recycling of the irrelevant.”)
 
 

Life submits to the Universe and man submits to Life;
the nervous-system-rebel however (in a manner indescribable)
resists some of Life’s routine demands of man:
doing so is his special rebellion and source of his singular reward.
 
 

In one land, their health plan is:
If you can catch it  --  you qualify.
    (“That somehow sounds strangely familiar?!?”)
“Pa pa: how can the familiar be strange?”
 
 

If you don’t pay much attention to what you’re doing, you can do more --
not do better, or necessarily do more enjoyably,
but just do more of man’s routine, mindless stuff.
 
 

In the asylum (strapped snugly in the canvas coat with the long sleeves that
wrap all around) a chap mused:
“Well, better my arms in a straight jacket than my mind,”
(the Chief Of Staff leaned over and whispered: “We made him say that.”)
And as you were leaving the patient began singing:
    “Oh I wish I was in the land of irony,
      old times there could be forgotten,
      look away!  --  what’d I say,
      lost the thought  --  what’d I say.”
 “Dear Father: is being-awake forgetting more or remembering more?”
    “Your approach is promising, but you have to take into account what you might be
      specifically referring to when you ponder such a question.”
There was once a duck who held warm memories of his childhood,
but had released those concerning al'Oranging.  (“It’s my life: I can do that,” said the quacker.)
 
 

After experiencing yet more unexpected actions and outcomes in his life,
one man took a full breath survey of himself and said:
“I am proving to be the kind of person I never warned me about.”
  (“Precious pater: might being-enlightened be knowing beforehand what you are,
     and if that be so then  --  what the fuck is going on?!
    A person struggles mightily for many years and the pay off is that!     Yikes!”
“Nice one, but ‘Yikes!’ would be a sentiment expressed only by those who’ve never
had the experience and seen things [including man] as they are,
[although its significance is that of goose piss].
Going to Googieville doesn’t mean anything  --  except to someone who goes there.”
    “And most people have no interest in going there, huh?!”
“I started to reply: ‘You tell me,’ but what a superfluous comment that would be.”
In one place: Things speak for themselves;
fact: They do every where  --  but in some places, well....let’s just say that
in some places the inhabitants suffer a certain hearing problem.)
 
 

On one world: things got all confused! --  but no one ever noticed!  --  in fact:
it was an out of towner who had to make up the word: confused  for them.
    (“Look here my good man: write me out a ticket to that place -- and there will be a
       nice tip in it for you if you do not inquire into my reasons for wanting to go there.”)
Then to seal the deal and finalize the transaction, he handed the travel agent
his Amygdalan Distress Card: the one with the slogan:
“Takes You Everywhere You Don’t Want To Go”)

   “Profound Progenitor: Could it be said that being-liberated is the
     finalization of all intangible transactions?”
“If that doesn’t describe Googieville --  nothing will.”
 
 

Regarding Royal Responsibilities.
The king is charged with controlling competition  --  particularly in the ideas market.
No ruler worthy his title aids in his own overthrow:
if life were deposed  --  who would replace it?
If your natural born thoughts can be replaced  --  who would so avail their self
(speaking of course, to the rebellious few).
 
 

The independent minded have a certain advantage  --
about which ordinary men have no knowledge  --  nor interest.
   (“It’s sort of fun-silly, having access to a super delicious duck dish
    that appears on no one’s menu, but which I found just laying out here by the pond,
    completely in the open,” said a chap with dopamine sauce dripping down his chin.)
To awaken and emerge from man’s common, collective dreamy state
requires you to have a totally new and different view:
one that is available only at the rim of yours and everyone else’s
presently perceived reality:
it requires a walking up to the very edge of a great, unbounded black abyss
that starts where all you presently know ends:
it is a facing of the apparent infinity of man’s inner universe:
a place ordinary men have no desire to go, and in fact are made to feign ignorance of.