If you’re not ready and anxious to offer evidence that you are right  –  you can’t be  –   not if you live in the city.....or in prison.....or a corral.

One man says:
“Anyone who knows for certain that what they know is correct,
is either a carpenter or farmer; everybody else  –   shut the hell up!”

Consciousness As Radio News.
All cows are served by a common station, though each one has his own call letters  –  which provides an illusion of individuality.

Musician's Tip.
If you know in advance that what you’re going to play will suck  –   play loud.

Another secret identifying sign of the certain man is that no one’s interest in him, interests him.

One man says that contraire the specifics usually associated with the phrase: EVERYTHING serves-you-right!

Consciousness & The Machinery involved.
Rude noises issue from rude appliances.
    You can’t clean-up-your-act if the act is not yours.

A father said to a son:
“Waking-up is all-in–the-words.”
    “Somewhat the same as is: being-asleep?”
“Nobel prizeamundo.”

A city park speaker discoursed thus:
“Organized crime will never be eradicated as long as a single man is alive,”
and when a passer-by stopped, pondered this for a moment, and responded:
    “That doesn’t make any sense?”  the discourser replied:
“Ah! –   but it will to that last man alive.”
When you don’t-know-the-way-out, two things are certain:
you don’t know how you got in, and you still don’t suspect that
the conscious part of your brain is all there is to the precious you, you call you.
(The guy in the park injects: “And if that one makes any sense,
I don’t want to know about it.”)

By the time you hear the words: “Would you care to dance?”  –   it’s already too late.

Simply admitting that you’re human won’t impress anybody.
(Leastwise anybody of any consequence  –   since they knew it already.)

By the time you ask: “Would you care to dance?”  –  it’s also too late.

There is an appliance in your house that works worst, when it’s on.
(And now a delegation from planet Earth has shown up to object to the lack of sense they purport is inherent in this story.
Is there no pleasing anybody?!        “Check with Chef Thanatos.”)

The ole man said to the kid:  “The proper response to what ordinary men offer as meaningful spiritual axioms, proverbs, laws and the like should privately be: ‘So what,’  not as sarcastic cynicism, but coming from an analytical understanding of the
illusory power of words.”
    “On sheep?!”
“Among other creatures.”

Conversation.
“Wearing two pairs of underpants won’t make you smell any better.”
    “How about having two parallel portfolios of thoughts from which to select?”
“As long as one of them did not come with your indigenous inner wardrobe.”

“Pa pa: Why do some people write books and extensive essays,
and others do epitaphs?”
   “Have you recently checked the price of typing paper?”
“And how about the expense of exerting your consciousness!”
   “Good one, boy.”

A man on a mission to help you is also on his way to the laxative factory  –
and with your home address in his pocket.

There is some hope for those who do not want to be helped by ordinary sources.

While walking through his thoughts one day,
a man had the distinct momentary sensation of his thoughts walking through him;
he never forgot this experience   –   although he never remembered it either.

More people do not understand things that they say they do
than do not understand things which they say they do not.
(“Isn’t it interesting how, if you look in a certain manner,
everything in the life of man balances out?!”
   “I guess, interesting is one word for it,” growled a guy clearly uneasy with the entire affair.)

Those who don’t like friday, sure as hell won’t care for saturday.

Time & Urban Life.
In the city it’s never too soon to complain.

One man’s update of a maxim: “If you don’t know where you came from  –
you’re normal.”

In the city, conditions allow  –   nay, provide systems which tell men how-to-cope, while out in rebel territory the game plan is: you don’t have to cope.

As he lay by the fire dozing, a man dreamed that his dog said:
“Real art needs no explanation,” to which he replied:
    “But I have never seen such art,” and the dog said:
“Then that explains it.”
(And one chap opines: “Right there is why you should never fall into allegorical discussions with animals.”)

In man’s intangible second reality: when you get down to what initially seems to be
the nitty-gritty  ---  all you find is more nitty-gritty.

                                                    Welcome home  --
                                                       the home is dead  --
                                                         longlive thehome!
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

JAN'S DAILY FRESH NEWS