JANUARY 30, 2003                                                                 © 2003: JAN COX
 
 
 
 
 

Cows, sensing their lack of any individual intellectual originality
are given to dressing up their external persona in ever changing verbal adornment;
known in some parts of the city as being hip,
and in others as being current with the latest technical terminology,
but all pursue the same end: man's routine thoughts attempting to cloak the imitative nature of their mass produced selves in a distracting display of words.

The most important thing next to never-forgiving, is self- promotion:
at every opportunity, and with no hesitation  --   brag about number one  --
and veracity has no pertinence here, all that matters is that you vocally promote
the dream image you have of you that you wish was the reality of you;
it is by the constant attempt to sell it to others and hearing your own tongue describe it that the un reconciled situation is made acceptable, and into an entertaining pastime
for ordinary men.
For the certain man there is no substitute for (what is to him) -- originality-of-thought;
any idea which does not seem to arise solely from his own mind
is never informative in the singular manner requisite for his goal.

For the rebel struggling for independence-of-mind
there is no such thing (in the frustrating sense) as an intellectual-anomaly --  contraire;
what might seem one to an ordinary mind would be to the certain man's
a thoroughly refreshing, surprise spring shower  --
full of nourishment and unexpected goodies,
and indeed when no such seems promisingly on the horizon,
he discovers how to produce one for himself.
Hint how: if a matter interests you, do not look at it with cow (common) eyes;
if you have the rebel's innate wiring you can find a location in your brain able to mentally look at ordinary subjects from such a non doctoral perspective that they will uncontrollably tear away their own standard façade, and reveal to you their true essence (which is always the same "essence"
[if we are willing to stretch the word to an obscene extent]).
Ergo are a rebel's brain-eyes always in motion  --  never staring --
never affixed on a thing due to the mind's automatic attraction to the thing;
the concentration of the certain man is never on a thing,
but on not allowing his thoughts to be captive of  anything;
so while ordinary men commonly say (in regard to a particular matter of interest to them):
"I'm thinking about it" --
a man who knows how to wield thoughts in a specialized, and intensified manner,
in a sense does not, think-about a matter he is investigating --
not as the word, think is commonly employed --
for how ordinary men, think-about a matter is by standing aside to let the thoughts that automatically appear in their mind when the matter is mentioned,  pass by, compared to the certain man's approach which ignores them, and presses onward,
from a somehow  totally original perspective.
So rhapsodized a chap: "What wondrous sights we can perceive,
                                         when thoughts, our minds, cease to deceive."
One up-and-coming pretender to the throne mused:
"If I can just get all my enemies trapped in one room  --  I'll have it made.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

The mayor went on television to announce the city's election results:
"The Plagiarist Party has won again, with the Ironists in second position,"
and one viewer thought: "Why do they show nothing but re runs!"

The prayer of the up-to-date urban combatant:
"Oh mighty gods of incorporeal strife and conflict,
let me die with my sword held high,
my shield and manuscript by my side,
and in time for the six o'clock news"  --
the competitions pursued by city minds,
being by their nature incapable of final resolution,
depend therefore on their reportage for any supportable assertion of significance.
   "Hey! --  never mind whether what I say is correct or not  --  that's irrelevant  --
     it was quoted in the press!"
      (among words missing from the rebel's vocabulary, "quote" is assuredly one.)
 

Any intellectual, duplication-of-services is useful to only those who lack
the original ability;
those who cannot for themselves,  think properly once,
will always try it again.
Not far from you lives a fellow whose first thought on any matter is also his last;
he is quite a sight to see  --  'cept his neighbors can't see him.
(P.S. after reporting on this, the man made contact to elaborate a bit on the story,
noting that he was always readily available to be-seen  --  by any really interested in doing so,
[and it's probably not necessary to tell you that a number of people wrote in after that
expressing their failure to grasp whatever it was that the man apparently meant by that
beyond its literal statement.])
Point blank views afford no second sights,
and those who can handle them --  need none.
Ultimately the time comes in the rebel's inner activity when:
a thing not gotten right the first time, is never gotten right;
if, unencumbered by man's automatic thoughts, reality is simply what it is,
then how can a man with real eyes not see it as it is the first time he looks.
To be intellectually civilized is to think in delible ink.
(Upon the heads of urbane cows
are always worn, eraser caps.)
Routinely compared to the common:
it can be at times difficult to say definitively whether the intellectual rebel is
completely civilized or not (not that it matters).
The monotony of the collective mental dance is in the fact that
only bovine tunes are played in herd ballrooms,
    "Pardon, but did you say, head or, herd?"  --    Same thing.
When a ship is not actually under way to a destination,
but just siting in the harbor and pretending it is,
the captain can, with total irrelevance, act like he is seriously following whatever map he wants to lay out before him;
see: play acting doesn't cost anything to anybody who is satisfied with
cow explanations of cows and of life.
One man has this motto: "Don't talk to the dead........or the non existent"   --
and the mayor of one city notes: "A lot more men have tried to live by that than have ever succeeded   (and, thank gawd! --  I guess I should add, or else I'd be out of work)."
Though never beknownst to the citizens: the maxim of every city is:
"Praise be, that we are not aware of what we're doing!"
 
 

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