One guy's tip on how to wake up the conscious part of the brain from
the automatic, distracted state natural to man:
“Make a half hour recording of you describing yourself and telling what you have
done in life and offering your thoughts on all the matters considered by
ordinary men to be significant to the human experience:
then first thing every morning sit and listen to it,” and someone asked him:
“Will that really wake you up,”  and he replied: “Even if it won’t,
if you have the potential to do so, it will make you sick to death of being asleep.”
 
 

One who appears sincere and seriously concerned in their comments concerning man’s spiritual life is either laughable or dangerous
(the latter if you are as serious about such matters as he is).
Only sheep can mislead sheep.
    “I would have expected you to say that only wolves can?!”
Nay, everyone naturally recognizes what wolves are up to regarding sheep;
no one is ever misled; this only comes into play when a talking species’ own kind offers help that is not about finding food.
    (“Guess that pretty well narrows it down.”)
 
 

In moments of momentary self inspiration (actually more like: sham self inspiration --  okay, more like real self delusion) one man will often croon to his native
nervous system his personal version of a well known uplifting ditty:
“You’re The Hair Beneath My Arms.”
(Which for some reason spurred one chap to finally proffer publicly his privately developed proposal that anyone who works in a doctor’s office in any capacity
for three years consecutively should be allowed to start practicing medicine
[same with detective work for anyone who’s been in police custody cumulatively
for ten or more years.])
 
 

One man says: “Whenever I catch myself lapsing into automatic
reactionary consciousness I feel I have somehow violated my oath of office.”
 
 

If you will explain why something you said or did was the right thing  --
you have never said or done anything worth telling about.
 
 

One man says he is convinced someone is in the crawl space under his house;
he says although he cannot always make out the words, he can at odd times hear the muffled voice of the intruder. (His uncle says it is just his sub conscious mind, a comment he dismisses as coming from a man with his own mental problems.)
 
 

As any well run prison knows: keep the men reminiscing,
and they're as securely captive as can be.
 
 

A couple of park philosophers were laying in the grass and one said:
“The greatest impediment to human happiness
is man’s ability to think about the future,” to which his companion responded:
    “And right there is the solution.”
 
 

In the conscious part of the brain:
many things are propped up  --  just to be knocked down.
 
 

One man privately thinks of his routine inner life as: The Pinhead Chronicles.
 
 

Slammer etiquette directs that you do not give advice unless,
(one): it is not requested,
(and two): you don’t know what you’re talking about.
 
 

One man who for many years had been talking to himself about waking up,
and freeing his thinking from his body's genetic temperament,
would periodically send himself emails expressing his gratitude therefor,
(saying such things as: “I shudder to think what my life would have been without you,” and like that): comments which could be dismissed as obvious, self serving,
even pretentious, but which nonetheless, he found meaningful.
(Though it is good to keep in mind that it is not always easy to ascertain whether such people are being serious when they say anything about themselves.)
On one world they say that if you can tell what is going on inside the head of a man  --  nothing meaningful is.
 
 

After much prolonged pressure, one man finally said that he would try to stop drinking;  his effort proved surprisingly successful and made him so mad that
he says he will never try anything again!
 
 

In a recent intergalactic: How Progressive Can You Be contest,
a relatively young planet won by introducing a previously unknown form of sarcasm,
(for which the rest of the universe will no doubt be eternally grateful.)

Life permits  --  nay, encourages prisoners to rail against imaginary bars.
 
 

Those satisfied with explaining themselves as being a product of their
human environment   --   are quite easily satisfied  --
and most likely to be content to stay where they are.

Definition.
Civilized minds: Fancy birds that can be held in invisible cages.
                               Talk about bars and there are bars.
 
 

A hostile description is an anti description.
Only in the already irritating confines of captivity can meaningless partisan criticism
be taken as meaningful observation (put in other terms):
only in one specific area of the nervous system’s neural structure
can one synapse patently mislead another one.
   Expanded: All hostile descriptions are anti descriptions,
    just as all institutional directions are rendered meaningless by the contamination
    of self interest.
       Life looks both after itself and  man collectively:
       the rebel must look after himself.
       In doing so, the independent mind ignores all ipsedixit definitions
       and names men have applied to themselves.
The certain man’s library is not only an empty, open book  --  but his mind as well. 
 

If you don't know where the outside is  --  knowledge of prison is useless.
 

A chap who works at the city docks says that at times of unusual stress and confusion he will lie down and put a cold compass on his head
to see which way his mind is pointing.
 
 

As long as a man believes that any particular words or ideas can be
personally adversarial, the guards don’t have to check to see if he’s still in his cell.
 
 

On days when he doesn’t feel entirely sure who he is  --   one man uses just his initials.
 
 

How Mind Works.
At city college so said a professor to his class:
“Early Sumerian culture is divided into four distinct periods:
I do not know what they are  --  I have never heard of such  --
but now that I have said it  --  just give me some time and I will flesh it out properly.”
 
 

One man muses whether, when riding on the highways of common human affairs,
the nervous system rebel runs the risk of being charged under the