Man’s Singularity Further Explored.
The brain’s curious situation is that while it can know things,
it also feels there are things it believes of grave importance that it does not know  --
and perhaps can never know.
(Something not experienced even by the stars and the atoms.)

Some years ago, one of the ranters who regularly showed up at
city college’s quadrangle, climbed atop an over turned physics instructor,
and delivered the following declaration:
“If you allow any two of your senses (such as speaking and thinking)
to become too familiar with one another, you will either become:
a famous public figure  --  or: live to regret it,”
and someone in the assemblage shouted back:
“You silly twit --  thinking is not one of our senses,” to which the speaker replied: “Neither is speaking  --  so shut the fuck up!”
(This by play caused such an agitation to sweep through the crowd that the
sharp creases in many intellectually well-pressed trousers just disappeared.
Even in an academic setting, this episode was so extraordinary that even today
they still never talk about it.)

How To Survive The Cruel Demands For Originality In The City (A Poem),
    You can steal your ideas,
    then hide in a hole,
    but you can’t eat the dirt,
    you had to throw out.
(This just in from city officials: They say that you can;
you just have to take reasonable precautions to camouflage the fact.)

One thing not possible for man’s ordinary mind is a comprehensive psychological-description of man,
(which of course makes impossible a psychological understanding of man.
[And all in all: no one notices.])

There are but two reactions available regarding one’s
predicament: to either cry or laugh,
and if you don’t have thoughts about it  --  you won’t cry,
and if you know what you’re doing,
you’ll laugh at the thoughts you do have.

The routinely civilized are those who pretend that many things they find
personally irrelevant are of great importance;
the super and subversively civilized (the awakened)
are those who understand the above  --  yet go along with the pretending.

One Man’s Morning Poem.
    "When I sleep too much
     my eyes look funny,
     and when I sleep too little,
     they still look strange;

     oh me, oh my,
     boo hoo, boo hoo,
     what’s a looks-conscious somnambulist
     to do!”

“Oh doctor!  --  when you don't know which way to go  - what should you do then?”
     “Who do I look like: Lewis & Clark?!”

One man has tattooed on his arm: “Long Ideas Are Wrong Ideas.”

Those who tell others what they should be doing are only doing their job --
(although they don’t know what they’re doing).

“Oh nurse! --  is there one or two ‘r’s’ in: moron?”

In ordinary thinking: when something becomes systematized  --
it becomes serious...............and important...............and hollow.

“Oh orderly!  --  do I seem in-order to you?”

An Earlier Poem Revisited.
    You can plagiarize yourself,
    then hide in your mind,
    and what this will do,
    is cement your feet to the sidewalk.
The nervous-system-rebel alone of earthly creatures finds all forms of
intangible copying forbidden;
understands that theft from anywhere is still theft and therefore toxic and numbing
to his personally essential parts.

How Creation Goes About Its Business;
Specifically On The Day Before The First One You Ever Heard Of.
A tall thin man and a short fat man were  standing together and one of them said:
“Why don’t you be a tall thin man and I’ll be a short fat one,”
and passing overhead just then were a couple of gods:
a happy good god, and a solemn mean one,
and as they took in the scene of the men below, one of them said:
“Once they start that   --  it’s all down hill,” to which the second deity replied:
“You mean it’s all up hill,” and it was left to a buzzard flying by to silently appreciate the third way: of things going sideways.
The standard talking part of the mind can never see the always present:
other-possibility to everything.