JANUARY 14, 2003                                                               © 2003: JAN COX
 
 
 
 
 
 

A man found a piece of string and rolled it up into a small ball;
then he found another piece and added it;
as time went by he found more and more string,
all of which he added to the ball, which eventually became as large as the man.
By then he began to wish he could unravel the ball
(though for what reason, he was not clear).
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Lungs need not study breathing, nor hearts beating,
so what gives with man’s mind?
“It has no instinctive talent,” you say?  --  “And anything it can do, it must be taught” --  are you confident of what you are saying? --  if so, ‘tis ample proof of
the deep lack of familiarity twix you and your brain’s breathing and beating.
History News.
The periodic eras of book-burnings are external reflections of
certain internal moves made by men who begin to realize what is going on.
On one world, those who thought themselves decidedly more intelligent than most, were required to wear a sign around their neck stating their belief;
meanwhile, those who actually understood anything
began to look for a way off that planet
(rumor has it that in the interim, some of them took jobs as sign painters).
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Everyone feels there is something missing in their life,
but until you know the nature of what thinking knows,
you will never know what it is.
     Men drive highways which never seem completed,
     not realizing that it is the vehicle in which they are traveling
     that creates the condition,
                                (and heat said to sweat: “What the hell you lookin’ at!”)
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Coming through the door, a father said to a son:
“While I was at that new auto supply store a fellow stopped me,
and said he had read some of my books and heard me speak on several occasions,
and said he assumed that my efforts were in someway intended to, ‘help-him’  --
but since he didn’t ever feel sure he understood what I was talking about
that I should just  --   ‘go to hell!’
 

..................can you believe it!  --  ninety five bucks for a fuel pump!”
 
 
 
 
 

Hormones do not lie –
not so with neurons; they can and will,
their doing so is in fact, the bedrock of civilization & a vital part of men’s personalities;
accordingly: depend on those you can trust  --  keep an eye on everyone else.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Travel News.
Everything passes,
everything arrives,
everything stays for a while  --  then breaks down and is replaced.

Legend says that life’s original plan for man’s mind was that everyone’s be programmed to begin every sentence with the words: “Well, it seems to me that....”
(So what do you think came of it?  --   what do you mean, “nothing”?!)
    Some believe that there are strict mathematical formulas that direct the life of man,
    but since most people are put off by the soullessness (objectivity) of numbers,

One forgotten version of a popular creation story says that adam was not
driven from paradise for his admission that he had eaten of the forbidden fruit,
but rather because when asked about it by god  --  he answered!
The brain (once conscious, civilized and brought into the city)
is programmed to act as both a speaker to itself and a listener to what it has to say,
and now does so in such a seamless manner that
men are not aware of its dual function,
and what the edenic conflict between the two parties represents is
that exact  moment when man’s brain first both spoke and heard itself speak  --
the birth of consciousness  --  man was then able to think about himself,
and in so doing  --  was forced from the old animal realm of inner leisure
into a uniquely human one of endless activity.
 
 

Employment News.
Over in the city, one guy’s job is to more or less  --  do nothing.

Idiot News.
If you live in the city and actually do much of anything  --  you’re an idiot.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

There was once a ship that sailed by sensation,
and another that sailed, based on thoughtful plotting  --  both of them however,
were governed by the same laws of physics and their mathematical formulas.
    There was once a race of creatures who lived on the surface of their world,
    then as they evolved they moved part of their existence underground,
    and gave it a new name;
    this worked okay for most,
    but a few were by it, privately off put (even though they could not explain why),

As he lay dying, a father pulled a son up close to him and said: “My final wish:
promise that you will make light of them
before they make light of you” --  as he pointed to his head.
 
 
 

    It is one thing to be dying,
    and another, not to be feeling good,
    and it is also one thing to realize this,
    yet another entirely to see it as a blazing metaphor.