As he sat reading in the library’s main room, the sunlight streaming through the windows began to highlight the drifting dust in the still quiet air,
and the chap looked up from his books and reflected:
“The road to man's inner spiritual-quest seems to always start in them
with some form of attempted martyrdom.”  He closed and rubbed his eyes:
“How might this be related to consciousness’ own urge to expand?”
 
 

Fact:
Everyone born with that certain nervous system quirk that drives them to read
such as this, knows that something is not right with them

                                                  Fact:
                                                  No premise  –  no opposition.
 
 
 

Mr. Simple stopped by to say:
“Once man conceded that a word can have more than one meaning  –
it was all down-hill from there.”
(And Mrs. Mental Health & Happiness took time out of her busy schedule to inject:
“Least anyone, from the above comment feel ephemerally repressed,
momentarily DEpressed,
confused, uncertain or otherwise left with the neural red-ass,
let me assure you that most  –   MOST civilized, sophisticated people enjoy
going down-hill.”
Then Mr. Simple makes additional note:
“Science solves problems; culture creates them.”
 
 

Everyone who undertakes to refashion their consciousness
becomes their own liza dolittle;
how they also become professor higgins is the problem.

                                                    Fact:
                                                    No premise  –   no problem.
 
 
 

A father wolf said to a son wolf:
“Any wolf who says he’s on a mission from god will pick clean your bank account
and try to screw your wife,” and the cub retorted:
    “All wolves of that sort that I’ve ever seen are too stupid to even understand how
      a bank account works.”
“Argue my words at your own peril, you snotnose ingrate.”
(Life is harsh on the tundra.)
 
 

Allegorical Justice A la Carte.
The blind are born with acute hearing;
the short with elongated egos,
and the dense with the power to believe.
 
 

There is a silent emotional underpinning to all trucks which directly affects the cargo
no matter how much the vehicles and shippers may complain or even deny.
 
 

Though they vigorously promote it to others  –
cows and other confines can never themselves: “Get over it.”
 
 

Says one man:
“For years I was excited by studying what goes on in consciousness;
now I am captivated by the idea of what it might  be like to see the goings on in
the other areas of my brain.”
 
 

There is a permanent wall of water behind everyone, poised to pour through
and overwhelm.
 
 

 Looking back over their life  --  sheep see only sheepishness.
 
 

One guy says: “When you’re damn well whipped and broken,
at least you can then relax (that and one other possibility).”
 
 

A father said to a son:
“Everybody harbors a ticking time bomb.”
    “Everyone’s hormones, you mean?”
“Well, that better be your case!”
 
 
 
 
 

This letter arrived for the Advice Doctor:
“Dear Doctor: What is the technical distinction between being a professionally, academically trained expert in some cultural area and being a pea brain?”
(But the Doctor says he is not going to answer that one  [leastwise not under his real name.]
Oh yeah: he also adds that this should be a lesson for you that a pea brain is not,
in every given instance, necessarily confined to strictly pea brained behavior.
    There can be cold solace on the inner tundra.)
 
 

One man’s consciousness taught his neurons (when conditions so called for it)
to counter his hormones with the injunction: “Get off my case!”
 
 

Dr. Exacto offers: “Silence solves certain problems  –   the ones talk creates.”
 
 

The Strange Case Of.
When it would get dark, one guy just plain couldn’t see.
 
 

Life In The Public Life.
A father said to a son:
“Rest easy that you have missed nothing if you walk in on the middle of a speech
and hear the words: ‘… thus will it be assured that the people will never again
be misled…’ ”
 
 

As he waited for the water to boil a man mused:
“Funny  –  if you get life to let you look up her skirt once,
she won’t again if you mention it to anyone.”
    “Yeah –  ‘funny,’ ” added his partner, “ ‘funny’ as in:
      Watch-the-hot-molecules-dance.”
 
 

Sad But True: True And Pleasing.
A father noted to a son:
“If hormones have their spirit broken, it is most difficult to mend.”
    “Impossible?”
“Quite difficult.”
The certain man never thinks the word, impossible as related to his own inner self.
All cars that go to the junk yard are eventually disassembled.
If hormones have their spirit broken and extraordinary neural efforts are not
quickly made to counter, a trip to the junk yard is all but inevitable.
 
 

Directions For Solid Public Life.
If you don’t understand something and don’t want to simply ridicule it
as you’ve done so many times before in such situations,
there is the more sophisticated seeming response of commenting drolly
on how ‘curious’ it is (which other sophisticated people are almost obliged
to take as a sign of super duper intelligence).
(“Oh!  Super MY duper, you big ole Mister Savvy you!”)
 
 

Rules For City Performances.
If you're going to play rock or blues guitar: play only the licks that everyone else plays, and if you want to play jazz: stay in an identifiable category.
 
 

Life And Man.
Anyone who doesn’t recognize the intellectual superiority of life has either:
never noticed life;
never noticed man;
never noticed the essence of superiority, indeed has:
never noticed much of anything.
 
 

Life In The Work Place.
One guy always liked to say: “It makes you wonder,”
and even after he was transferred to another world, he still enjoyed thinking it.
 
 

Obscure Explorer’s Fact.
Some who feel they’ve become lost on the great adventure
will adopt being-lost as a meaningful metaphor.
    (“How in holy hell do they learn to do something that totally extraordinary?!”)
The thing to remember in this regard is that everything extraordinary about this expedition can only be learned from one’s self  –  never from anyone else.
 
 

Fact.
A gun slinger with a traveling companion is already half dead.
 
 

              A real  explorer can make no wrong turns.
 
 

You need to keep an edge: that of consciousness over emotions.
 
 

Never get all worked up over death-in-the-afternoon
if you’re already scheduled for excruciating torture-in-the-morning.

Never be overly impressed with a rags-to-riches-story until you determine whether the party involved had a state monopoly on the rag trade.

Never discuss the question of what might be the unkindest-cut-of-all
with a myopic mohel.

Never tell the anxious parents of a fifteen year old girl you’re attempting to date
that you are a front-end-loader.

Never share a communal-cup with a gang of hardened convicts
or a flock of dazed folk singers.

Never ask anything of any god unless it is crystal clear
what future obligations may be involved.

Never join any organization whose dues don’t go directly to you.

Never tell a bank guard that your feet are named: Bonnie & Clyde.

Never (as you get older) start referring to your wife as, “mother,”
(unless she is  –   even then, no one wants to hear about it).

Never go-where-angels-fear-to-tread  –   unless you’re a Certified Idiot.

Never hammer-your-swords-into-plowshares unless you are prepared to
someday till-your-enemies-to-death.

Never suddenly begin to whirl about or do any type of Dervish dance
in front of a Probate Judge.

Never tip a parking attendant who's bed ridden.

Never admit that your misanthropy is anything personal.

Never ask a family of passing Mormons to hide-your-wife (even for a little while).

Never patronize a psychiatrist who advertises: “In By 9  –   Out By 5”  (or a mortician).

Never speak-right-up  –   even when encouraged to do so.

Never be impressed by anyone whose attempt at up-dating Philosophy amounts to
his declaring: “I am French  –   therefore I am.”

Never have the-time-of-your-life  –   (at least not all at once).    And: