A father said to a son:
“There was once a machine that ran perfectly well with no one watching it  --
it also ran just as well  --  better in fact  --  if someone did.
The people normally associated with the machine and its operation
seemed to have never discovered this  --   have you?
The natural view of ordinary men is: 'Why should I do any more than I have to do?' --   for which there is no counter  --
for ordinary men are not meant to do any more than they automatically do  --
same as with any machine, you might say (just don’t say it around ordinary men).
The private question for you my boy is: how much are you meant to do?
Only you know, and you only know by the fact of whether what you are doing
satisfies you as being sufficiently exertive.

Ahhhh!  --   is being a participant in this most extraordinary adventure
                                                      not life's supreme pleasure!”
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

To help strengthen his struggle against the power of man’s collective dreaming,
on Tuesdays, one chap tries not to believe in Fate, and on Fridays, accidents.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Two guys were talking and the first one said:
“It takes a truly intelligent man to say: ‘I know nothing’”  to which the second added: “Either that or a stupid one  --   who actually does know nothing.”
From one most substantial perspective, the minimal platform from which a
potentially successfully inner expedition to reach the realization can be launched
is the concept: “I know nothing,”
which is easy enough for your mind to say that it believes
after it has heard such an approach recommended,
but for it to be useful, you must have some actual sense of its reality,
as improbable and metaphorical as it may sound to your mind’s natural ears.
Many men who never catch on to what is going on pass themselves off as
being extraordinarily insightful by mouthing the sentence: “I know nothing,”
but what neither they nor those smitten by the comment notice, or have an interest in,
is the fact that there remains in a man who makes such a statement,
something that believes it knows something!  --  (to wit): the something is saying:
“I know one thing: I know that I know nothing”  which prima facie is nonsense:
you either know nothing, or you do not;
you cannot know one thing and: “know nothing”
and all thus far noted an ordinary mind could dismiss as a meaningless-word-game,  but for a man dedicated to getting to the bottom of things it is anything but;
from one vantage point: it represents the ultimate hocus pocus indigenous to
the machinery of human consciousness;
the very thing (if we may momentarily call it that) which stands between you,
and you seeing plainly what you and life are about is the seeming you in you that says it is trying to see, and indeed does see,
at least to the extent it feels justified in its assertion:

If you never dig, slide, claw, wiggle your mental way through this ball of
tightly wound thought-misdirection, the secret will never get unraveled in your brain;
there is produced in the natural, automatic activity of your brain a something:
a spokesman responsible for, knowing-things (more precisely):
a something responsible for saying that it/you, knows things,
but no matter what it learns there will forever be one thing that it will never know: something that it cannot even look at, nor is moved to in ordinary people.
   The eye might eventually see every single atom in the entire universe,
    but it will never see itself:
    by the natural conditions of the physical reality in which we exist,
    the eye has one blind spot,
    but the distinction between this simple to grasp example of the eye,
    and the case of the mind is not at all so graspable
    for the eye has no thought-based consciousness of itself,
    and thus no awareness of its position in the universal situation, and ergo  --
    a blind spot.
While the mind (via life’s ongoing genetic broadcasts of thoughts thereto) says that it has
full, conscious awareness of what it is, where it is in the scheme of things,
and what it can and should do, it too has a comparable blind spot:
it might finally see-by-thought every atom in the whole universe that the eye has physically seen, except that is, for the atoms that are the mind and thoughts.
As the eye can not see itself  --   the mind cannot think itself;
it obviously can say that it  does,
and there is naught to be normally heard anywhere in the universe to say nay --
but the certain man early on senses something decidedly non kosher in this self-prepared buffet which men’s natural minds are made to lay out for their consumption while treating it as though it is infallible mental-manna-from-heaven
rather than what it is.
 

Yes, it is proper for the would-be rebel to say to himself: “I know nothing”  --
which he does not, even though initially he does not actually realize it,
or even understand aright the reality behind the words he speaks,
but there is one gigantic step to be made beyond that  --
a step that literally should be as impossible as the eye ever seeing itself  --
and yet at least one human has done it, so why not you (if your desire be to see past
what man’s collective thinking impotently says it knows and is so about man and life);
the step comes from turning your relentless attention to the investigation of the
inner cranial case of:
“Who is it that is saying in my thoughts that it knows: ‘I know nothing' ?!"
Just on the other side of that at-first frustrating wall is the answer to everything humans have ever said they want to know about (which they don’t),
and everything the few say they do (which they actually do).
 
 

When god began to question the next newly deceased in line for Judgment about his life,
and the man said: “I will talk about anything in the universe you want to  --  except me,”
the big guy was much pleased and said to himself: “Finally!  --  someone I can hang out with.”