When he heard that the government,
(an entity that neither produces nor adds anything new to the economy)
is the nation’s largest employer  --  one man was quite perturbed;
then he looked at the mind he was born with in a similar context,
and became really upset!
 
 

Economists are the only ones under the control of The Great Conspiracy
who are given give free reign to say whatever they like  --
since no one understands what they’re saying  --
and since it doesn’t mean anything anyway.
“The great thing,” notes life, “about having total authority is that there can be
holes in your operation and it doesn't make any long range difference.”
 

Q: What do babies talk about when they get past the: Goo-goo stage?
A: Questions of “morality” concerning survival pertinent activities.
Some silly things are simply too pitiful to be funny.
 

The first sign that a person doesn’t know what’s going on
is their ardent desire to be treated seriously.
 

Looking back: one man now thinks t’would have been more appropriate had he been married in black and buried in a technicolor shroud,
(using these two events as stand-ins for his routine mental birth and self induced expiration).
 

To a man who knows what’s going on:
oranges are no more an anomaly in Stockholm than are Swedes who say it’s cold;
being a resident of the mind in which you were born keeps you an outsider to
the simple inner workings of all human affairs;
when you live-at-home, you have but two eyes, and naturally see all situations
as based on binary foundations, which then push the skimpy-sighted into
perceptions of irony and the unexpected.
If you are of but normal consciousness your life motto might as well be:
“I never saw THAT coming!”  --  when you damn well did.
Q. What is cosmic certified evidence of sanity?
A. You by nature say that you do not understand what is going on in a given situation, when you also by nature, do,
with this part of your nature having no interest at all in the matter
that your other part is talking about.
The scientific basis for locomotives being able to make such great time in roundhouses is the balance between their dual sets of driving wheels.
It is those men whose thoughts go nowhere who feel in life
that they are getting-somewhere.
(The Barbie Dolls at the centre of the universe often comment:
“Aren’t humans just precious!”)
    “Pa pa: when I grow up can I be at the centre of my universe?”
“That my boy is in fact, our family’s definition of being grown.”
 
 

(The following is a conversation that took place between two people
who could actually produce their own original thoughts):
“Just consider: if it weren’t for metaphors: we couldn’t speak at all profitably,”
and the other person didn’t even bother to reply.
 

One kid announced: “Life is like a hockey game!” --
and his mother injected: “I’ve told you before: Life is like a horse race,”
and although the lad walked away without protest, he was not actually won over  --  (being aware that ma ma was still active as a bookie.)
 

This just in off our wire service:
On one planet has been discovered a race of people who can only be serious
if they don’t think about it.....wait a minute  --  that can’t be right  --
that would make them animals  --  not humans.
    “Father dear: when I reach maturity, can I be an animal?”
“That my boy (within you) has already been achieved;
our family’s veiled aim is to become purely human  --  two times over.”
    “Which is?”
“To be human (same as everyone else), and  fully realize it  --
same as NO one else.”
     “Man! --  that’s the kind of thing all my playmates say is crazy.”
“Shows at least that you have half human acquaintances.”
 

Men who can think originally for themselves are rare  --
but if you think they’re scarce  --   try to find a collection of them.
 

A most tricky step in the art of mental terpsichore is that the accumulation of facts connected to some intangible area of interest to you,
feels, in your natural born mind, like an understanding thereof,
when (for the underground purpose of the few) it is nothing of the sort;
there is but one  --  always the same  --  understanding of all things immeasurable, based on not many  --  but ONE fact.

If it weren’t for blood and hormones, ordinary men couldn’t think at all.
(Employing mental activity itself as a basis for thought
is an activity confined to a few nervous system irregulars.)
 

The wars were ultimately waged in the skies,
and for ammunition, the collective could send up only tracers.
Only ordinary men can be wounded in verbal skirmishes.
“And that's also the unannounced formula for all fancied progress in man’s
intangible affairs, is it not pa pa?!”
 

If what you’ve learned doesn’t make you feel better  --
what kind of knowledge would you call that.
(Certainly not the awakened man’s sort.)
 

When the cry goes out amongst the collective:
“Everyone raise your hand who wants to…”  -- most everyone will
instantly raise theirs even before they hear the rest of the sentence.
Mentally: ordinary men would have nothing to do  --
if they didn’t pretend that they do.
(Note: Cows’ brains are connected directly to their hooves
[just take a look at their gesturing as they speak.])
 

One man liked to say: “I only deal in facts,”
and one day someone asked him: “Strictly in facts  --  in all situations?”
(Hummm  --  he was cornered  --  and forced to expatiate):
“Okay!  --  except in one.”
 

The more civilized and thus mind-centered self is a man
the more will he subscribe to the idea that there is no betrayal like intellectual betrayal.
(This is done of course, entirely behind the back of his hormones and hooves.
“Don’t you mean to say: With their complete disinterest?!”)
 

        A real thinker never thinks the words: “In my opinion.”