In a kingdom were two princes;
the elder was twenty years the younger’s senior
(though they were born at the same time)
and several times his superior in strength;
he made ninety-nine per cent of all decisions;
the only thing the younger contributed (as per his hereditary responsibility)
was criticism of the elder, of which he ignored ninety-nine per cent
(but something about the younger’s criticisms was vital to the running of the kingdom).

This is ninety-nine point nine, nine, nine, nine, nine per cent of the kingdoms
always on Earth; they are normal kingdoms; they are the kingdoms of every man.
But what of the kingdoms of the point zero, zero, zero, zero one per cent --
how are they different?
In them (although the elder by nature is still the dominant force)
the younger prince has greatly increased stature,
and among some, is the kingdom’s favored one.
In this minority setting the younger prince’s criticism of his controlling counterpart
is not so easily disregarded;
in fact, right here is the crux of the distinction between the two classes of kingdoms:
in the majority, the younger prince’s complaints are voiced infrequently
(usually by force of momentary uncomfortable circumstances where mea culpa seems the best tactic) and impotently (the moment passes  –  the self flagellation is forgotten); the kingdom simply lives with the accommodation of the elder’s control
and the younger’s periodic infecund comments,
while in the lesser numbered realms, the outlier prince’s complaints with the enthroned power structure are of more importance than all the proclamations coming therefrom;
in these scarce kingdoms the overriding desire is that the younger be in control;
in some quarters this has been called: the desire to awaken;
to be enlightened  –  liberated  –  but it is all the same thing:

When he was voted: The Most Influential Motivational Speaker Of The Year
one man thanked his self profusely for the honor.
(“Oh, it was nothing,” said the nominating committee,
    “Nonsense,” said he, “you forget that I know personally the difficulty you faced
      in making your selection,”
“Oh, you’re too kind,” they said,
    “Perhaps,” he replied, “but that does not affect the veracity of what I said.”
(He then wearied of the exchange and exchanged it for a DVD.)
 
 

Consciousness is first and foremost a raconteur;
it will weave scenarios of how things could be with the physical materials of the planet, (this is science and technology),
and when not doing that it will tell tales of how things could be with people,
(and this is religion, philosophy and psychology).
It is tempting to call consciousness a story-telling, but it is in fact more a scene-screener than a real story teller,
(the latter occurs truly only in the certain man’s struggle to awaken);
in ordinary men it mostly plays and replays brief sketches of scenes concerning the man (and of course, it).
It’s not any particular scenes that are bothersome to the certain man,
but rather the constant playing of scenes he never selected;
it’s not that the inner rebel wants to stop the showing of just certain scenes --
but all of them, which is only possible indirectly in that men have
two consciousnesses  --  the problem is: only one slot available, and one of the consciousnesses is much stronger than the other;
when a flea must fight an elephant for the only seat,
you've got a real situation on your hands (if you're supporting the flea).
 
 

Remarks one man:
“The best thing about having an incurable illness is that you don’t have to fret over which treatment to choose,” and his partner injected:
    “Not unlike what we went through with that problem you had earlier in life
      in your.........(you know, that thing about your thoughts).”
 
 

Intoxications Of The Inner Life.
“I don’t actually enjoy drinking, “says one man, “what I like is the hangover;
more specifically: that moment the next day when I finally get completely over
the hangover and am suddenly back to feeling like my everyday normal self:
that particular instant is a most delightful, and impossible-to-describe high for me.
But dig it!  –   it’s always something just a bit spooky that privately grabs me best.”
(Obviously a chap with no connections at all to seeking enlightenment, huh?!)
 
 

One man has a cute little newsstand kiosk set up just outside the city
in his consciousness, that is patronized and  stocked only by him.
(“And what a joy it is,” he adds.)
 
 

Consciousness also loves to hear stories, which is the attraction of movies, books, religion, classical education and gossip.
 
 

In his process of selecting a spiritual guru one man asked each applicant:
“If you don’t manage to wake me up will you at least guarantee that you will
drive me crazy?”
    (“Harold honey, mommy’s told you: don’t be talking to yourself.”)
 
 

On one world it not only takes one to catch one, it also requires that one already
BE one to even have the desire to do the catching  (much less to be caught).
Messy place that, wouldn’t you say.
 
 

One guy said:
“The sure way a man can tell he has become old is when he doesn’t want to
fuck any woman as old as he is,” and his partner added:
    “Same with a certain man’s consciousness and its tolerance for the thoughts
      that normally appeal to it.”
And this e-mail from a reader just in:
“I’m not confidant that I understand that last story  --  although something about it makes me feel like it is not necessary to intellectually grasp it to benefit from it.
Ain’t that weird?!
Yours,
P.S. But I don’t guess, any more so than a lot of other stuff.
Yours Again,” etc.
 
 

For man, nothing –  not cocaine, not nicotine, not alcohol –  is as addictive as dreams, (that is): the stories for which consciousness acts as a stage.
 
 

If you don’t break words to your will  –  they will you.
    (“Ma, I’ve told you: don’t call me Will.”)
 
 

For years one man couldn’t understand the attraction of automobile racing:
“How can people sit for hours watching things just run around endlessly in a circle?!”   Then one day another reality of what he’d said about this hit him!  –
and, coincidentally enough: right between his eyes and an inch or so inward.
 
 

By-Play.
“One man had some of his best ideas when he wasn’t looking.”
    “At what?”
 
 

One man started leaving messages  –   which he would find  –   which said:
“I shan't be contacting you again.”
 
 

Overheard on a guided city tour:
“The purpose of rituals is to inspire you.”
    “I always figured they were intended to wear you out.”
 
 

The reason night time dreams seem often so impressive is that consciousness has none of the normal distractions to interfere with its story telling.
 
 

Every time the subject of reincarnation would come up, one guy would cock his head, look off, smile and think: “Man! –  no tellin’ what I’d do if I got a second time around!”
 
 

In response to the multitude of veassitudes that one experiences in life,
one man would frequently counsel: “Don’t take it personally,”
to which he finally replied: “The advice might be more meaningful
if I weren’t aware of its source.”
 
 

The ideas that: Man is asleep and can wake up,
or: Man is in the dark but can step into the light,
or: Man is in captivity but can achieve liberation,
(even the more simplistic version: Man is a sinner but can be redeemed),
these are all unwitting acknowledgments of man having two consciousnesses.
    (None of this does a man practical good until he personally realizes it for himself.)
 
 

Recovery From City Run-Ins.
Only the vehicle that hit you can make you whole.
One man amazed his self more than anyone else  --
which worked out okay in the long run  --  since he didn’t have long to run.
If you don’t make words come when you call  --  you’ll come when they do.
 
 

An interest in self-improvement is directly proportional to
the liklihood of being found out.
 
 

Following the example of down-home faith healers, first thing every morning one man grabs his forehead with a good sound slap of the palm and shouts: “Be HE -- ALED!” –  then flutters his eyelids and coyly asks: “From what, big boy?”
 
 

Making consciousness study itself is the most difficult undertaking in the universe; instead of looking at itself when pushed to do so it will begin to tell stories
connected to whatever was the last thing going on in it right before you forced it
to commence the inquiry (like this): “Okay, let's get started:
I was just then thinking about Uncle Charlie  –  hey, remember the time when he.....”
Consciousness, rather than looking at itself and how it functions,
will automatically and almost irrepressibly look at the thoughts that were last passing through it and then on to thoughts triggered by these.
The train never stops unless you get off.
 
 

Whenever one guy wanted to exert authority over his consciousness/consciousness who was boss he wouldn’t turn on the tv, radio, cd player or read anything  –   you think consciousness was impressed by this?  –   GET REAL! –
there is always the thinking-about what you haven’t done.
(By the way: routine consciousness loves the whole notion of: “get real” [talk about your perverse sense of humor!]
    “Well, goodness gracious  –  it certainly is nice that this doesn’t apply to us, “ said one man’s partner to its partner, which is the nice thing about being the man-who-wants-to-get-to-the-bottom-of-things who has, to some extent: everything applies to you  –  but it doesn’t make a damn.)