Conversation.
“Did you ever think about the fact that the media  (radio, TV and the press)
is the only commercial enterprise that allows its employees (comedians,
commentators and ombudsmen) to publicly criticize and ridicule their employer;
as long as the public wants to hear and read what is presented,
ad time and space can be sold and everyone is happy.”
    “You’re forgetting about consciousness and what it similarly permits,
      even encourages, in the voice by which men present themselves,
      wherein they will engage in self effacement and criticism to make a sale (that is):
      to cause others to like them.
      Every time a man talks about his self, he is making a sales pitch,
      and consciousness will let him say anything at all about his self that it takes
      to keep him a profitable commodity.”
(“You know,” noted a passing tick hound, “every time you think you have found something unique in the world of man, it turns out that their consciousness also displays all of the same features.
I, a mere lowly beast, hardly know what to make of this.                                                 Bow wow.”)
 
 
 

One guy describes the trouble with living an ordinary life by this example:
“What if you were told you were dying,
and you contacted everyone you’d ever had a conflict with,
and apologized and told them you loved them,
and then found out that you’d been misdiagnosed  –
what in the hell could you do after that?!”
 
 
 

Popularity: (A Dialogue).
“What is sadder than someone who was once musically hot,
and is now just an oldies-act?”
    “Someone who never was hot?”
“Then what is sadder than someone who once  --  for a moment  --
realized the truth of what is going on,
but then lost it when they tried to become famous, riffin' off of it?”
     “Damn’f I’ve got a response to that one.”
 
 
 

After years of specialized exercise, investigation, experimentation,
and just plain old hard work, one man says he has perfected his memory to the point that he can forget damn near anything.
 
 
 

All drunks are good-guys when sober  --  Yeah!  --  right,
and sleepers wouldn’t suffer distorted sight if they would but open their eyes/I's.
 
 
 

The true rebel won’t take anything lying down   –   not even the inevitable.
 
 
 

The Primary And Second Realities.
A good mechanic can fix anything in an engine;
not so any psychiatrist in the mind, or priest the spirit  –
only a man’s own cells can handle these jobs.
 
 
 

It’s easy to think of non insightful people as pretentious who try to appear otherwise,
but consider: what choice do you have if you are of no more than
standard consciousness?
 
 
 

The matter of: The-right-tool-for-the-right-job
is never more meaningful than in the certain man's special activity.
 
 
 

Pausing from his reading of history, a man mused how you don’t need look to the past to find paganism – it is right here now, still in your brain,
(plus there's no heavy lifting required, since there is a natural stone henge
already surrounding your consciousness).
    (“Yeah!”  then snarled some part of his consciousness, “that's right:
       keep me in the dark ages, why don’t cha!”)
 
 
 

People full of useless news like to call theirs: “News you can use.”
(Honest entertainers don’t fool themselves.
     “And you sure don’t see many of those.”
Don’t let your words hear you say that or you’ve made a real enemy.)
 
 
 

No philosophical encampment is sufficiently secure;
if you man any ordinary mental position you will always be defending it.
Corollary: Dumb people fire super dense bullets
so that dunderheads will believe they have a reason to duck.
    (“That’s a lot of D’s to be rollin’ out when duck season is still a month away.”)
 
 
 

Even when outside sources say otherwise, one man still tells his nervous system: “Everything is fine.”
(Or is it that he somehow makes the talking part of his brain say this inside itself
to whatever else may be in there that can hear it?)
 
 
 

Every time you realize that something that once seemed significant

There is one way to identify a true artist.
    “How?”
If he be a painter, musician or sculptor and is asked why he used a certain color,
a particular chord, or shaped it in that specific manner, he will reply: “I don’t know.”
    (And when that response is predictably rejected by the questioner,
     he resorts to the ultimate: “I liked it.”)
Note: Not only is this inadmissible in the public marketplace,
but in ordinary men’s consciousness as well.
One guy says he privately thinks of his congenital consciousness as his nose-whistle;
he says he doesn’t know why  –   and he says he doesn’t care.)
 
 
 

Proverbs Revisited.
Creative minds are dumb but once --
while the philistine's, infinitely succumbs.
(This is why the most gaily painted horse is put at the beginning of a carousel.
     “Hah!  --  I am no longer so easily fooled; I recognize that as a trick-statement!          Don’t I?”)
 
 
 

In a rebel bivouac outside the city, they have a Developmental Chart
that is singular in that it lists not only the time by which a child should be talking,
but also a date by which he, as a man, should shut the fuck up.
 
 
 

The latest medical thinking in one oral lab is that
people who will talk about themselves would personally suck out septic tanks.
 
 

Never, whilst whiling-away-the-hours with a mohel’s daughter
confuse foreplay for foreskin.

Never blithely ship your children off to a summer camp that has the word: “Ransom” anywhere in its name.

Never discuss sensitive-documents with a man in kilts.

Never wear a name tag identifying you as: Captain Precious
at an American Legion Convention.

Never hesitate to let someone else’s conscience be your guide,
(as good an approach as any).

Never while attempting to impress a beautiful woman you just met in New Orleans, refer to her mother as the Big Greasy when the term you had in mind was, Big Easy.

Never respond to a personal ad from anyone who claims to be
J. Edgar Hoover reincarnated.

Never resort to cliches, even when the shoes fits, and your life depends on it.

Never waste your time striving for reconciliation with a bed mate
who has shot you with anything large than a .38 caliber.

Never in a pitch black room cry out: “Any one here?”

Never waste a busy farmer’s time by asking if he’s really ever seen pigs do-it?

Never patronize a religion whose central icon is an accordion or food processor.

Never discuss robbery with a gun maker.

Never give-up  –   (unless you’re really tired  –  or late for an appointment).

Never try to remove your underpants in a tornado (or a Toranado for that matter).

Never seek in the dictionary that which can be found in the garage.

Never take a short-horse the long-way-home.

Never say-die  unless you’re actually dead (or really tired).

Never take up a sexual practice that weighs more than you do.

Never give to a charity run by poor people.

Never confess, unless you’re really guilty (or very tired, frightened or running late).

Never make daytime plans for nighttime activities.

Never while in a foreign land, ask directions from a stranger.

Never get too carried away with the rockets’-red-glare and bombs-bursting-in-air.

Never volunteer  –   unless they ask: “Who’s really tired?”

Never give-up-the-ship unless it's someone else’s ship.

Never purchase office supplies on the weekend or just before a natural disaster.

Never take anyone’s word for anything (unless of course you’re too tired to care).