Today’s dispatch comes to you from Alvsborg, Sweden,
 birth place of Yon Pithy
who, as I am sure most of you know, 
is generally credited with being the father of the 
Pithy turbine.
And since for a change, 
nothing here reminds me in some way of our favorite subject,
I will just arbitrarily invent, I mean, select one.
But, Hey!  --   when you are a member of 
The Head Club For Humans
every day, no matter where you are, 
doeth the sun of potential enlightenment shine brightly 
on your expectant, excited, and ever-ready-to-receive 
follicle garden, sub strata.

We will start by considering questions frequently asked, 
but never properly quashed.
 
 

“Why are not those most awake recognized?”
They are not entertaining enough to be popular.
 
 

“Why does life appear to be going downhill?”
Because you are not going up. 
 
 

“Is there a god?”
Is there someone asking?
 
 

“Which is the right system to awaken by?”
They all fluff your pillow.
 

“How can the things men believe in be imaginary when so many people believe them?”
Because the dead outnumber the believers.
 

“Why can’t I stop thinking  --  and worrying?”
…well….. I’m sick of this already….
 

A test of your awakening potential is whether you have interest in human aberrance.
If you enjoy hearing about abnormal behavior,
and irregular states of mind 
the odds of you ever altering your own 
are problematic.

Everybody wants to whine,
and the would-be-awakened face the considerable challenge of 
eventually prying themselves loose from the impression that 
their whines are in fact 
meaningful expressions of their deep-felt desire for enlightenment,
and are thus exceptions.

Had socrates had a better selection to interrogate,
we would never have heard of him,
and if jesus had been more alert that day,
pilate would have received no reply whatever,
(all such ongoing episodes occurring in your own mental operations).

In the beginning, a person seeking a different, 
more precise understanding of things has no choice but to ask questions,
and in the process constantly engages in 
whiney self-reference, 
which seems to be unavoidable in that to express himself adequately 
a man surely must note that 
he and his interests are what motivates the questions.
But “self-reference” is “self-promotion”,
and promoting & supporting your current self 
only serves to sustain your present condition.
Another singularity of this sort of activity is that
only herein will a man who makes note of,
and complains of his broken leg will never get it set.
Bitching about, I mean, “asking & talking about” 
the delusions of your mind,
no matter that they may be expressed in a manner
approved of by some how-to-wake-up system,
ultimately accomplish nothing but  the 
feeding of themselves.
A Reiteration Moment: When you start out,
you are inevitably driven-to, and sustained-by
your asking of questions,
but the time comes whether you are by then awake
enough to realize it or not 
when the continuation of your repetitive questions is
counterproductive.

No matter how sincere the intention,
the continued digging of a hole in which you are presently standing 
can have but one result. 
 
 

Subjectivity is self-delusion,
and self-reference, its sustenance. 
  To an alert man, “subjectivity” is a synonym for
   stupidity.
In the routine world, opinions are a mainstay;
in the brighter one, they are pig farts.
…and yet -- 
they are then 
taken back in at the other end
and re-fuel the pig.

Ditziness recreates itself in perpetuity 
whether expressed as statements, 
or dressed as questions.
Who was the dumbest: 
socrates, for asking the questions,
or the people who responded to them?

No one has ever given specific notice to the fact that 
when you once understand a certain thing,
that is the end of it;
the understanding does not reappear – 
but stupidity is forever.
You can’t ever stop the same old useless questions
from coming back --  over and over again.
Why does no one find this readily apparent circumstance of interest?
(And by the by: If you have just had a thought that said 
the reason is obvious why the answers to your questions appears but once, 
while the unanswered questions continue --  don’t fall for it.)

Weenie-cart philosophers relish in saying that:
“Only a truly ignorant man does not – ASK QUESTIONS,”
which eats well enough on the street,
but up where alert birds fly,
a different atmosphere prevails  --
one in which only irredeemably ignorant men ask questions.

Here is all you need to know about downtown:
NOBODY knows the answers to your questions.

Nobody
knows
the answers
to any of
your questions.

The few who actually know-what’s-going-on
know something even better –
they know the nature of questions.
 
 
 
 

Okay,
if you’ve been attentive,
I’ve disposed of your asking questions of others.
Now! --   on to you.

If you are attempting to ride that 
Mystical Orient Express from the 
metaphorical sleeping city of Paris 
to the awakened one of Istanbul,
and you are at least some where east of Venice,
then you should be well past prolonged 
socratic entanglements with other human beings,
and be well deep into same with yourself.
So -- why not we go ahead and dispose of that also, 
as long as we’ve got you on the table, 
anesthetized and cut open already.

A man no longer totally asleep and 
in the common dark
should be down to an ongoing dialogue in his own thoughts 
between questions & potential solutions to the 
apparent problems & perplexities that keep him from full awakening,
which is as it should be.
You have not even left the Paris station until you
have ceased debating with the idiots in the seats around you,
and are doing so only with the one in yours.
And the situation now can be even stickier & trickier
than ‘twas experienced previously,
in that by now it is only your own thinking that 
seems reliable and enlightening,
and comparably speaking, such is so,
but “comparably” won’t move the train.

  From another room, a father called out to his son:
  “Don’t be talking to fools,” and the boy shouted back:
  “Oh, there’s no one with me,
  I was just mentally talking to myself,”
  a response to which the elder did not 
  waste his energy pointing out was 
  still subject to his initial comment.
 

In the final diagnosis you keep yourself 
ignorant  & meaningless by continuing to entertain 
ignorant & meaningless questions.
You help hold the door closed to the dark room
in which you presently reside through your unanalyzed, endless 
whining-under-color-of-concerned-inquiry.
There are no thoughts lurking amidst the muddled
and puzzled thoughts to which you give a forum, 
that can answer their questions.
You do have however  -- one, 
most ephemeral & quixotic that has the power to 
reveal the foolishness of the questions.

On his best days,
inside his own head,
a jesus would pay no attention to the
pilate-interrogatories that might appear.
Ask yourself: “Am I asleep?”
and don’t bother to reply --  you are.
Ask yourself: “How can I be so stupid?”
and you are --  permanently!
Ask yourself any question you want
while not investigating the real crime, (which is),
“What the hell is this, ‘I’ thing that keeps popping up
in the middle of all my questions?”

Okay, in deference to words, 
(after all their birthday is this month),
I’ll say this: 
If there was one useful & valid question for a man
headed toward Istanbul it would be this:
“What is it in me that asks questions?”
Turn your back on all of the, 
“important questions that face mankind”
and face your attention to locating the source of
all such questions.
When telegrams come to your door,
don’t even bother opening them,
scrutinize instead, the delivery boy.
Nothing in any message,
be it from afar,
or from your own attic
is of any significance whatever;
what will give you what you want is the,
proper identification of the messenger service.
 

Yeah, I agree with you --  it’s too cold here.
Let’s split and fly closer to our solar home.

’Til tomorrow --  Be cool!, (figuratively of course.)
 

                                     JAN