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NO CONCLUSIONS DRAWN IN PRISON EVER LEAD TO ESCAPE
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Sketching Only Scenes With Liberating Potential
 JUNE 24, 2004                                                                       © 2004: JAN COX



“Ah crap!” complained the kid, “all the great thoughts have already been thought,”
and the ole man counseled:
    “Wait –  how about the one you just expressed,”
“Naw,” replied the nipper, “I read it in a book,” and the elder asked:
   “Is it well known and the author still alive?”
“No, it’s quite obscure and a thousand years old,”
    “Well,” went on the paternal one, “take it for your own  –
      no one will ever know better but you and me,”
and the kid was so momentarily uplifted in spirit that he fell to the ground
and clutched the ole man’s ankles exclaiming:
“Pa pa, I am going to start calling myself: Prince Doo Doo The First,
and giving you all the credit for my meteoric and meritorious rise to such
intellectual heights.”
Thus do things go in the peaceful Land Of Sardonica            (and in prisons).
 
 

Judicial Update.
Everyone is falsely accused.
 
 

One man’s: Thought For The Day.
“If you can think about something once,
you could think about it twice;
if you can think about it twice,
you could think about it one more time,
and if you can think about it all of these times
it means you could’ve, should’ve thought about it better the first time.”
 
 

If you can tell what an awakened man is thinking there are two possibilities:
he is not awake --  or he is not thinking.
 
 

The key word to passing a normal prison life is: permanently.
(Keep repeating it to yourself over and over: permanently, permanently, permanently, and it will help you remain so.
    [“I’m not sure I get it  –   and I’m not sure I WANT to get it.”])
 
 

Metaphysical Update.
(In spite of what has been reported here before): The awakened man IS actually on a mission:
to escape life’s routine notice.
 
 

Another Story About DoingTheThing.
The novice said: “Wow! –  what a thrill it is doing stunts like these without a net!”
and the experienced performer countered:
“The real pulse stopper is doing them without a trapeze.”
 
 

The escape-minded stuck in the midst of ordinary prisoners
is like an interplanetary rocket that finds itself tied down at a small rural airstrip.
    (“But Pa Pa: can't you be tied down, all alone  --  inside yourself?!”)
 
 

One man who often dreamed he was a worm,
kept thinking he heard a bird knocking at his door.
 
 

Cheap ice always melts.
 
 

One man who often dreamed he was a worm,
kept hearing an eagle knocking at his door  –   wanting to take him for a flight.
 
 

Concerning Scenes Stored In Consciousness.
Visuals come and go  --  but audio is forever.
 
 

One man who often dreamed he was a worm,
kept hearing an eagle knocking at his door  –   wanting to take him for a flight  –

sans a tour commentary.



Within certain structures,
only intellectually superior creatures can be purposefully stupid,
(and of course those who are naturally so  --  which kinda leaves some of you out  --
and lets some of you in, huh?!)
 
 

Concerning The Great War.
All barracks eventually burn  –  but no beliefs ever die.
(Complete Headline: Concerning the Great War  –   In Man’s Head.)
 
 

Every time this one prisoner's brain would experience another really dumb thought he’d say to himself (in his best over-the-top radio, disc jockey voice): “And the hits keep a’comin’!”
 
 

One certainly not off-the-rack ruler was presented with a collective complaint
from the people regarding the constant sloppiness of those whose job it is
to remove their garbage;
after reading it the king gazed off into the regal distance and mused:
“Do they really expect the fastidious to apply for such a position?”
(Have you noticed there is never a shortage of stories highlighting
the widespread justice of things.)
 
 

One chump (that surely should be: chap)
says he lives by one simple blotto (that must be: motto)
which is: Always align yourself with the up trodden.
 
 

In some circles there is little difference between hasty conclusions and torn trousers.
    (“Clearly not a fashion conscious spot!”)
 
 

In a certain contest in one galaxy:
the only competitors who can possibly win are those who do not enter.
 
 

A chap in city park says he is now so intellectually impoverished
that he is down to living on "borrowed memories."
 
 

History And Consciousness.
There are some who do not believe that men as far back for instance
as Homer’s time, thought as he reported they did,
while there are others who do not believe they thought.
(History OF Consciousness?!?)
 
 

Another chap advises: “Go west young man –  go west!
(Especially if you know what you’re doing  --  and want to end up in the east.”
    [“Damn’f that ain’t always the trip-you-up phrase: ‘IF you know what you’re doin.’ ”)
 
 

Under prison lighting conditions:
anything that can appear to be progressive can also be seen as retro:
therein lurks the normally unnoted omnipresent difference between how things work, and how the working of things makes men imagine they should work.
  Under prison lights: something seen to go left can also seem to go right.
    (“You know what  --  that earlier guy nailed it:
        in a finite area: the hits do keep a’comin’  –  where else are they gonna go?! --
        where do they have to go?!")
 
 

Regarding Coping Skills.
One man holds this view: “If you know what life’s actually about  –
                                               you don’t have to cope.”
 
 

The hombre bellied up to the bar and lamented:
“Eee doggies!  I shoulda realized where things were a’headed
when I discovered that all my heroes had heroes.       Eee doggie damn!"
 
 

On a far away world a vanished race left only one clue:
this short sentence scratched on the wall of a dark cave next to a stock of
ballistic launchers and threateners:
“Our humor surpassed our fear and hesitation  –  now we’re gone! --
now we’re outta here!”
   “Curious how commonly do people not here seem the most interesting.”
     After pondering what he had said, he added:
     “Hell! – I bet I’d be more interesting than I am now if I weren’t here."
      (You think that a safe wager?)



One’s personal demeanor doesn’t count for much  --  in the actual land of Meanor.
 
 

J











This email just in:
“Why do you write so much about death; what kind of subject is that for the living!?”
      How distressing for a man to have but one meaning for a given word.
 
 
 
 
 
 

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