Jan Cox Talk 3019

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TO LITTLE MINDS —
IT’S THE LITTLE THINGS THAT COUNT
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July 21, 2003 © 2003: JAN COX
(This page will be seen as originally formatted via Microsoft Internet Explorer, text setting: medium.)

Hormones live in the physical world — as it is,
while if you are ordinary, your neurons live largely in a dream world provided by life;
the certain man on the other hand lives mentally in a realm mostly of his own doing — one which bridges the two supra.
(Being “well connected” never meant more).

In his ongoing effort to restructure the working of his mind, one man’s latest approach is rolled up in the statement: “Danger does not frighten a dead man,”
and his mind is not at all sure it fully understands this……and even if it does,
it’s not sure it likes it.

If you want to be thoughtful — but don’t know how to really think,
you have no choice other than to believe in something.
(For the rebel: “being out of synch” with everyone else is the height of belonging).

After chewing on some of the matters mentioned here, one man
has this to say: “So! — this is where it’s brought me:
to asking the birds if they — or the cats — should be in charge!”

One thing more than anything else, jogs one man into thinking — his own thinking.
(“Self abuse” has never been less abusive).

In one binary based reality, it is believed to be extremely bad luck
for three people to stand up at the same time,
(“listing ships — splitting lips,” and all that rot, don’t you know).

The Underlying Math Of Culture.
The collective calculation: Anger plus talent equals public art:
the individual enumeration: Originality mixed with sang froid
produces private, creative perception.
(In no game has a “single hand” ever counted so strongly).

A father told a son: “Being happy is no permanent excuse” —
which for a while bothered the lad —
but he got over it.

All of mankind’s retold myths, legends, fables, tales and allegories
are for those who have forgotten the original event,
(“Or who can’t bear to remember it!” — “Or who aren’t allowed to!”
Never has so little meant so little.)

From our: Believe It Or Be Dipped In Shit department:
On one world is a poet who has never — that’s right — NEVER
opened a work with the word, “I” — so: Believe It Or Go Take A Shower!

If you will say why you stopped doing something — you haven’t stopped doing it.
(Never has something so far removed from thinking ever had anything to do with
the mind! [you can bet your slog clogs on that!])

For some purposes: a man with a chip on his shoulder is not as much of a problem
as one with a chip on his thinking;
being angry over the event you’re thinking about
lowers thinking into something less and much more feral.
(When the moon is in the second derby,
even a man in a cutaway coat can piss steam.)

During a lull in the action, one of the children at the party said: “Let’s play a game” — and someone suggested: “Pin The Answer On The Question” —
and someone got it going by asking: “What actually holds civilization together?” —
and one little girl shouted: “Rules Of Law!” — only to be countered by another kid
who proclaimed: “Nationalistic Fidelity!” – then another lad ventured:
“Respect For Personal Property!” — and simultaneously two youngsters yelled:
“The Concept Of Romantic Love & Monogamy!” – and still another nipper bellowed: “Double Entry Bookkeeping” – then the boy who had begun it all
shushed them into silence and offered his own answer to the query he had proposed: “No my friends and fellow revelers — good guesses one and all,
but it strikes moi that the one, obligatory prerequisite to civilization is that particular sort of seriousness that afflicts our parents and other adults” —
which pretty well brought the party to a complete stand still.
(Question for you: do you actually think this story is about children and a party?)

In the city’s public forums: a man with nothing to prove,
can prove nothing to those hanging about.
(Thus are man’s public neural areas well protected even without physical fortifications.)

One man says he believes that some if not all of the ideas that come from
this kind of activity are just for the purpose of making people angry.
(“Change that to: ‘making yourself off-balance’ and I’ll buy it,”
said one man responsible for such ideas.)

There is one fellow who has taken to using White Out on his thoughts,
and when he heard it rumored that fumes from the product could cause dizziness,
and disorientation he said: “So that’s it!” — and his mind said: “So that’s what?”

J