Jan Cox Talk 3150

Resistance, As Delightful as It Is to Complain About, Is Meaningless

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Condensed News = See below
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Summary

5/21/04:
Notes by TK

Have you ever considered how much of your life is composed of resistance? Resisting organisms invading your body or resisting other humans transgressing your physical/mental space, etc. As you mature, the resistance is increasingly of intangibles—other people’s ideas—with that resistance taking the form of words/thought.

What real impact on your life would it have if you were to stop all this resistance? None whatsoever! A man would be fundamentally unchanged in what he is, regardless of all abandoned resistance. The removal of all conflicting ideas and resistance thereto would make no difference to human life—even though life as it is currently evolving would screech to a halt! The ordinary cannot see this. (46:32) #3150

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

A TRAVELING DRUMMER TRIED TO
PUT IT IN THE POCKET , BUT THE CITY NEVER COULD FIND THE BEAT
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Syncopated Thinking In A Strict Time World
MAY 21, 2004 © 2004: JAN COX
Those Who Need Symbolism Explained Will Never Grasp It
_______________________________________________

The way you know you are in the city is that those around you believe that
a man can be both ordinary and an artist:
man’s collective venue for the curious acclaiming of the mundane.
All routine art begins with the word: “I” and ends with a whine;
if in that locale you will not speak of your troubles — you are no artiste;
yet for the few (roaming outside the city in the unsettled neural territory):
ordinary thinking and the creative spirit are mutually exclusive;
the ultimate art of the man who realizes what is really going on
is not in the expression of his personal experiences,
but in his understanding that they were not all that personal.

In his promotion of fairness & clarity, one man refuses to ever have the last word,
or to even recognize that such exists (for that matter).

Those asleep always give up — and why not? — what have they got left to lose?!

One man likes to think of his extraordinary understanding as being brought to him: Courtesy of Conroy’s Automotive Supermarket.
(A pleasure he says he cannot explain, but after all:
how much of extraordinary understanding can be explained?!)
Note: Anything that explains a lot
usually explains more than a lot care to have explained.

Only the independent thinker never gives in — he has everything to lose.

In one land the people so progressed that an irrefutable defense to all civil, criminal,
and ecclesiastical charges was the response: “My hormones made me do it.”
(Due to such actions, their civilization flourished and dominated their planet
for well over five hundred hours.)

The sleeping always give in — that’s part of the job description.

To ordinary minds, confined to a 3-D perception:
what is presented as justice — always seems lame.
Because of the sensitivity that comes with being civilized and citified:
men find it unacceptably harsh to confront the fact that vanilla is just as inevitable
as is chocolate.
To ordinary consciousness the sweetness of incorporeal conflict
comes with its natural ability to stomp down decisively on one end or the other
of an imaginary éclair it pictures lying on the floor.
To be awake to what is actually going on is being able to see who-&-what
steps on who-&-what, and clearly grasp all that the stepping doesn’t amount to.

Top Of The Brain Topographical Curio.
If you do not have a mind you have independently developed for yourself, the one you do have has two distinct features: it is difficult to change — and easy.

News Of War Time.
The real nervous-system-rebel never surrenders — not to words or ideas he doesn’t.
The Intangible Sports Section.
In the battle between the critics and the creative:
if you present, show or appear on city stages, galleries or pages you can never win.
Of Collateral Note:
The prizes awarded there consist of the right to continue playing the pointless game.

The weak always give in — what else can they do?!

Definition.
Institutions: The breeding grounds for collective infections.
(“It is not so embarrassing to suffer Dopey’s Syndrome —
if you are in the constant midst of Dopeys —
plus: everything seems to sort of, make-sense.)”
Note: It is for this reason that the travel of ordinary citizens is restricted:
take an average mind too far out of the city, away from its established residence,
and its very perception of reality starts acting strange.

One man opines: “You can define yourself — out-of-business! (Thank god)” he adds.

After deciding to start a new religion which would be truer to its original purpose,
one man concluded that the first necessity was for a new name to replace: Religion, one which more accurately conveyed its raison d’être;
but further consideration made him realize that no such word existed:
thus was he forced to forsake the affair.

There is a place where all records are kept — but no one can get in.

One chap tried to tell himself: “Those who cry about the inevitable”
might also do so about the evitable.
(And who was it that was recently saying: people talk too much?!)

Standard info food is adequately cooked by just blanching.

The final-word regarding every city affair can reverberate indefinitely;
there is no set shelf-life on fragmented, incomplete data.

After the king discovered that the rebel leader could not be bribed or frightened,
he hired people to follow him around & laugh at anything he said concerning his activity
(which took care of that little problem in short order).

The Poetry Of Prison Life.
Into each cell,
some idea of escape must fall,
but regardless their form,
they all must fail — and serve the same, never-stated purpose.

If you seem okay,
and you act all right,
but still stay sick long enough,
the others will think you’re a lingerer.
Supplemental Fact: In the city: everybody is a lingerer.

Spot the superfluous word in the following sentence:
“There are obviously human exceptions to this rule.”

Acceptance of collective thought in your mind is the supreme addiction.
(And only for the few: destructive addiction.)

To the ordinary minds : words can truly mean a lot —
but never as much as they believe.

Update Of Some Conventional City Wisdom.
Every one realizes just enough about every thing to be kept harmless.

The rebel cowboy rides habit ‘til it don’t sweat no mo’.

One guy had a dictionary and set of encyclopedias and it still didn’t do him any good.
(“God bless ‘em: who but the super sophisticated look to entertainment for benefit.”)

One purpose of city officials and institutional spokesmen is to make pronouncements which, merely by being announced, seem meaningful and binding.

There is: public cleverness, and: private talent:
one results in power and wealth — the other in real art.

Report From The Battlefield.
Neural belligerency turns into an unrecognized form of trench construction
(also a related consequence):
It’s tricky for a distracted mine field layer to re trace his steps out of his work place.
(Obviously the full headline to that story should have read:
Report From The Faux Battlefield, with you undoubtedly now able to
remember continually that all conflicts in that area of mankind’s collective mind
are staged events.)

Nourishment On The Farm.
The predisposition to be your natural born self is the beginning of all slop.

To defend your ideas is to redefine suicide.

The confinement natural to all things in life only becomes an actual prison
when those therein begin to talk about it and take it personally.
On one planet: nothing not essential is influential
if it is not thought of, and thus spoken of solemnly.
“Where is this world?”
No place deadpan enough to be describable.

To promote your ideas is to hurl stink bombs into the wind.

And in one land they are so behind the civilization curve that they cannot afford either
a religion, or a particular way of critically-thinking-about-life, so instead:
they just issued an Official Warning (which will always get the job done).

Ordinary men cannot piss on (sorry, that should have said: pass on):
Ordinary men cannot pass on any information without some reference to their self.

Those in captivity have no sense of rhythm.

Then there was this one chap who finally turned to himself and said:
“Look! — if you don’t want to hear me talk about what-kind-of-guy I am —
don’t keep hanging around here!”

Everyone has a city twin brother (who is not really related to him) — and:
one guy DID stop hanging around the here in question.

J