All the traditions practiced by man are in fact neo traditions,
with their antiquity giving an aura of meaningful permanency to counterweight
the lack of same in the minds of the practitioners.
The real-deal-man has but a sole tradition: not to mentally participate in any.
A field whose boundaries are constantly expanding
is by its nature, inimical to the very notion of reverence-for-permanency,
(more precisely in the case of ordinary men:
a forced reverence for the man-made illusion of permanency.)
Another of the characteristics of the city found nowhere else in this universe:
the false fronts representing actual, individual buildings fit perfectly into
the overall setting of a totally make-believe metropolis.
No one wants to see Pele actually try to muscle his way into
The Queen of Hearts’ Soccer Game;
the feathers of the Phoenix should (and are tacitly expected to) stay where they are;
ordinary men are not permitted to acknowledge the existence of
two distinctly different worlds, one physically substantial, the other not,
in both of which they perform their lives, but that does not keep them from silently suspecting that something stinky is going on right under their restricted noses.
 

The lead wolf is not a true believer in any cause, even the one he may titularly head;
he has but one dedication: the retention of power;
only amongst his powerless subjects are there passionate disciples of
the declared cause: supporters of a mental/verbally contrived illusion.
   (“Are you are actually talking about the intrigues that go on in a man’s own mind?!”)
 

If the most interesting thing you have to talk about is what has happened to you,
you have nothing to say that will interest a real-deal-man.
 

A man who wrote many books and essays on the subject of waking-up
was thought by his readers to be awake, but the longer he kept writing,
the more did they eventually believe his words to be an expression of
his continuing struggle to wake-up
(except for those who came to believe that he was simply a front for the true author).
Fact: Everyone is a nom de plume for their self.
 

In prison everyone feels pseudo outrage,
thing is: no one realizes that it’s pseudo  --  but what should they really expect  --
since the feeling concerns pseudo problems.
 

One man’s take is that nothing is relevant to anything else
(and he insists there was no force influencing him to say this).
 

What Passes For Humor In Prison.
He put in his false teeth; slipped in his artificial eye; screwed on his wooden leg;
put on his hair piece; attached his prophylactic nose  --  then off he went again
to deliver his famous motivational speech concerning: The-need-to-be-REAL.
    “Huh! -- I figured it would have to do with irony.”
No --  he says he’s outgrown that one.
(Note: “I'm Moving On” is not a familiar ditty in the city.)
 

From another world comes word that they have physically located their
long imagined-to-exist deity  --  right in front of them  --
amidst the statistics in their various attempts to define man psychologically, sociologically, economically, et al;
thus collaterally have they concluded: Numbers don’t lie  --
only words describing lies and facts  --  as opposed to what’s really  going on.
 

Conversation.
“Is there some way you can tell for certain that you are awake?”
    “Yes --  if you do not care at all -- in your own mind --
       whether anyone else on earth believes you are awake.”
“But that could also apply to a know-nothing, crazy-ass fanatic?!”
    “Yes.”
Sidebar.
A man-who-knows living amidst the ordinary was the original inspiration for
the idea of: “A wolf in sheep’s clothing” --
though the more compendious picture would be:
“A wolf in the Invisible Wolf's clothing.”
 

Everyone is a one trick pony  --  okay:
the consciousness everyone is born with is a one trick pony;
Cyclopes do not exist simply in mythology.
 

Proverb Update.
Those who don’t understand the nature of words are doomed to repeat them.
 

One kid came to the deduction that if people were any simpler  --
he’d be his own kid.
(“Are we talking about goats here, or humans?”                 
   Cute.)
 

Taking a prompt from the listeners to talk radio,
one man often says to his real-deal-consciousness:
“Thank you for not taking my call.”
(For whom he is pretending to speak, you can surely see for yourself.)
 

Conversation II.
“Is there a way to know for sure that you are not awake?”
    “You envy someone.”
“That’s simple enough.”
    “Ain’t it.”
“Hummm  –  maybe too simple.”
    “Maybe.”
Moral: Keep talking.
“Hey --  there must be more than that, like:
‘Keep talking and such-&-such a thing will happen to you’ –  so what’s the rest of it?”
There is no more, just: Keep talking: if you’re of ordinary, irremediable consciousness, doing so will feel right to you and require no effort, but if you’re of real-deal potential, the constant noise will ultimately make you aware of its true nature.
 

A man who will try to tell you why he likes something that he does can correctly be considered a fool;
he certainly has no understanding at all of what is going on with life.