Jan Cox Talk 3073

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Jan’s Daily Fresh Real News (to accompany this talk)

MEN’S WORDS ACTUALLY TELL ALL,
BUT THEIR NATURAL EARS ARE NOT TUNED TO THAT FREQUENCY
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Broadcasting On The Secret Channel For Five Thousand Years (Come Tuesday)
November 24, 2003 © 2003: JAN COX

After climbing to the highest spot in the city, a man screamed to the heavens:
“I would rather be seen as a complete and abject failure
if I cannot taste of the kind of success that will place me among the immortals!” —
and after a moment of silence, life yelled back:
“So those are my choices?!”

Says one man: “There being so little of useful interest to other people
just leaves that much more room for: you-on-yourself time.”

No matter your dress, speech, wealth, or titles,
as long as you are a pack animal, you’re subject to domination.
The Calf’s Song Of Innocence.
“I wanna be free,
I wanna be me,
not run in a herd,
not step in a turd, (I mean) hole,
but that’s not to be.”
The good news however: After you’ve succumbed (as you should)
to the lure of the group and have become grown in their view,
you can then begin to slip away and discover a whole other definition of adulthood.

One day a man was suddenly struck:
“Do the mental circuits enjoy bad news for the same reason the physical ones do
being hungry? — in that they know the pleasure that is to come?”
He pondered this for a moment, then:
“Yet normally the neurally conceived of negativity is not followed by a satisfying release…..humm…..so –
why do man’s ordinary thoughts so relish verbal scenes that are disturbing?!”
(And Professor Presumptuous Interruptus injects:
“Seems a hellava way to run a life if you ask me!” Point of order!
“Okay: Seems a hellava way to allow the life in your mind to run. Happy now?!”

“Pa pa.”
“Yes?”
“Let me read you something I found.”
“Okay.”
“It says: ‘Only the dead get unusually nice right before they die,’
and a man says to his mind: ‘Well, that’s not the case with you’ —
what the hell kind of sense does that make?”
“Have you forgotten where we are.”
Words are strange people.

Taking another man’s speech seriously
is as foolish as not doing so his physical presence.
Lion Country For The Rebel: ignore the roar — avoid the pounce.
(Confesses one guy: “Though I’m a mite ashamed to admit it:
perhaps the most glorious moment in my entire life was when I suddenly realized
that the words people speak regarding matters intangible —
including those I hear in my own head — have no intrinsic power,
and only affect me when I insist that they do by my passive acceptance.
God! — do I feel like a world class twit for it having taken me so long to recognize
what could not be plainer.”)
Plain is as plain plainly is….which is why so few fly.

Conversation.
“Judging from man’s art: the primary purpose of speech is to bitch.”
“No, it’s to whine.”
“Bitch!”
“Whine.”
“You’re crazy!”
“Aw, stop your bitchin’!”

Related Conversation.
“All artists are sad people.”
“Plenty of them aren’t.”
“All of the ones I’ve met are.”
“Maybe you’re just attracted to sad people.”
“Humm…..why hasn’t anyone ever pointed out that possibility before?”
Men love to be lauded for having (in their art) overcome the constraints of:
poverty, discrimination, lack of talent…

Though not known by the general public: there is a dimwit vaccination.

Repetitiveness & The Non Essentials.
Tough guys in jazz state the theme only once.

One man says he finds DoingTheThing to be like a face peel for the nervous system.

One man’s wont is that as soon as he arrives some where he’ll announce:
“I must be going,”
and while it may add little to his social life, he says that applying this approach
to the thoughts that continually enter his brain has proven most beneficial.

The Connectedness Of It All Visited Again.
After reading aloud some typical dialogue from a currently acclaimed novel,
a son asked a father:
“Who writes this tripe?”
“The same people who read it.”
(There was silence for a second, then the elder asked):
“Who wrote you?”

One chap says he believes the frequency with which men compose verses
concerning the transience of life is due to life being so transient.
“Pa pa: might this have application to man’s mind…..even his very sense of a knowing-self?”
(And almost inaudibly the old man chuckled to himself:
“’Who writes this tripe?’ — indeed!”)

A Lesson In Civic Balance.
The mayor said to a group of angry five year olds touring city hall:
“If actual justice prevailed in our lives:
those with guns would automatically also possess a mortician’s license,”
and one little nipper threw up on his foot.
Mental circuits can be connected to one another in a manner foreign to physical ones — — which harms neither, but does tend to discombobulate one.
Meanwhile across town, a son was asking a father:
“Why do men wear neckties?”
“To prepare them for their ultimate strangulation.”
“And once they have submitted to wearing the suit of inner city life,
their hanging is assured anyway, no?!” —
and the elder was so pleased at the lad’s insight
that no throwing up occurred that day in their place of business.

Question: For the nervous system rebel: What is the distinction between his:
place of business, and residence?
Response: There being any makes being a rebel an illusion.

The Visual Weather Forecast.
If it looks cold — it is cold.
And local conditions asked the city:
“Do you think this might apply in multiple areas?”
“Sure — just take a look at us.”
An Overnight Update.
The non sleeping cannot be awakened.
“Does that include those who have no knowledge of the concept of man normally living in a mental state resembling sleep? — and if you say it does then — That’s not fair! If they don’t know that they’re asleep like I know that I am —
then that might make them actually: not asleep —
and without any effort on their part. It’s not fair!”
(Where’s the mayor when you need civilians calmed down!
And His Honor [that devilish rascal] reminds one and all:
“Now don’t forget where all of the things of the city really exist!” —
and as plain as that may be, it is a fact unique in its ability to be ignored.
[And that being due to the fact that: The city could not survive being seen as it is;
the totality of civilization — all of man’s culture: his arts, his religion, his politics,
his individual mental construction: the thought-based area in his brain wherein his automatic sense of a self resides would all disappear,
were they seen for what they are.])
Those who traduce what they call: “Illusions under which men commonly live” have
no more understanding of what is going on than does a rock with learning disabilities.

Proverb Update.
In the rebel’s world: the medium is everything — the message, moot.

Concluding Fact: Most thoughts however, start out actually based on something.

(“Boy! — that’s a good one: ‘most.’”)

J


P.S. “Most” represents something wholly different to the certain man’s consciousness than it does to everyone else’s.