Not uncommon is it for those who say they are interested in awakening
and getting-to-the-bottom-of-things to be attracted only because they
mistakenly interpret the entire affair as a rant against humanity.
 
 

As concerns routine incoming info: one guy says he considers all mail  –  junk mail.
 
 

A further example of the unassailable nature of life in man’s second reality:
They are sick who say they are sick;
nothing at all like what goes on in the actual realm;
when your home base is in non-aligned reality, and your allegiance is not divided  –  you cannot be sick without actually being sick (nor can you be a torpedo head
without dreaming you are in a submarine).
There is no evidence that many men would enjoy life above water.
 
 

Just think, boys & girls: if it were not for Captain Irony, trains would have to go all the way around the world just to turn around.
 
 

A man who can properly mispronounce certain important words can,
in certain circles, go far.
 
 

To all man’s big shindigs, second reality brings only a black & white camera.
 
 

The ole man told the kid:
“Remember: If you don’t see a difference – there’s still a difference.”
He paused, wiped his mouth, then said: “Wait! – let me try that again:
Remember: If you don’t see a difference – there’s still a difference.”
(And the young lad was much grateful for the clarification.)
 
 

The ruler of one kingdom announced that anyone who used an adjective:
“Had to prove it!”
(This caused dismay among many citizens inasmuch as they felt their second reality lives had not yet been hyped nearly enough.)
In the land of no seams  –  you can never overdo it.
(That, for instance, is why there is no end to the amount of ornamentation with which priests can adorn themselves; they can easily put the chests of generals
from the first reality to head-hanging shame.)
 
 

Through a daring combination of miniature electronics and microsurgery, one man
had a Rewind button implanted in this brain – it worked – but proved redundant.
 
 

Just because at this moment you do not see in your mind that which you seek,
does not mean it is not there.
 
 

If (as some believe) irony is the name of the game,
just imagine what the big boys up in the owner’s sky boxes must call
the score keeping.
    (“I don’t mind being a pawn in a wide warfare as long as I know it has
       a high purpose.”
       Pawns cannot believe otherwise.)
A fact never discussed in routine mystical schools:
If ordinary men woke up, more changes would take place than just internally.
(But don’t take that too seriously; it will likely just confuse you.)
 
 

One man attempted to get his mind committed to a mental hospital
for criminally abusing the word, convoluted.
 
 

Always remind people of everything you have done for them,
(everyone appreciates the opportunity it provides).
 
 

Physical, first reality could at any moment terminate,
but man’s special second reality will continue for as long as he can talk.
 
 

From The Insurrectionist's Dictionary:
“Being civilized: Having the mental capacity to see 3 as 2.”
(Lexicological Footnote: earlier children’s editions listed civilized as being:
“The ability to do that which you don’t want to.”)
 
 

When reality gets in the form of second-reality its intention becomes to
transcend mere reality.
 
 

Today’s Fable.
And the day came when the Threes took up arms against their oppressors, the Twos.....okay, so there’s not such a tale, but it does have a promising premise, no?!
 
 

One benefit of living in city reality is that you never have to come to conclusions.
(For those still unclear: city reality is the one with the mix of first and second realities that is just right for ordinary men’s collective existence. [That’s why the people
this daily news is written for are referred to as rebels who seek to get out of town.])
 
 

Two people can stand in the same spot and one smell decay and the other growth.
 
 

Why has it been opined that this planet may be some other world’s hell,
but never some other realm’s heaven.
(See, if you hadn’t goofed off so much on the job...)
 
 

The more believing do the ordinary, the better off they are;
all that aids the few is knowing.
 
 

Another way to look at the aim of second-reality is that it seeks in men’s minds
to surpass first reality in importance (remember: that is: in-men’s-minds).
 
 

If you can’t talk and listen at the same time  -- you’ll never wake-up.
 
 

Faddish moos never fail to win over unremarkable cows.
How can you tell you’re in style?  You’re just like everyone else.
    “And what’s wrong with that?!”
Not a thing, but there is a style that is individual, and not part of a group hug.
    (“Hold up! –  have you switched over again to talking about other than
       what we were talking about?”)
 
 

The way to tell you have real talent is if you do not want to be compared to anyone (even to whoever is considered the tops in your field.
By the way: A true genius will not suffer for his art  –  he makes others do so.)
 
 

Graffito found chiseled in a city sewer:
“Listening to men professing to express their thinking is like smelling meat rot.”
 
 

Everyone knows that man lives in two quite distinct worlds: one of flesh, wood,
and stone, the other of words, and half the time they confuse the two,
while all the time pretending to not realize the two are different.
    (“I will hold you as tight as I can and no more.”
“But that is not enough.”
     “All right: I will hold you tighter.”)
In your struggle against the city: having a stomachache is proof you are not hungry.
 
 

Ordinary memories are like a faithful anchor on a sunken ship.
 
 

One man pondered: “If you can have time-on-your-hands,
can you have space-on-your-feet?”      (And the Universe warned: “Just keep it up!”)
 
 

There are instances in the city wherein the memory-race between blood and beer
gets too close to call.
But as always (within the bosom of itself) the collective protects its own.
 
 

Here's the statement by which one chap is best known:
“I cannot begin to tell you how many times I have said the same thing.”
 
 

A City Bedtime Story For De Kiddies.
Once upon a time there was a man who pretended to be happy when he knew he wasn’t   –   and there was another man who pretended to be sad who didn’t know whether he was.
Moral: Go to sleep.
A Different Tale.
A newcomer to the Royal Court was so advised by one of the old retainers:
“The way to stay in His Grace’s good graces is to bow a lot: lay on the flattery;
bring gifts  –  and always have an alibi.”
Moral: The certain-man has no alibi for giving up and drifting back to sleep.
 
 

Attempting to determine what is true and what is not by the ordinary mind is akin to trying to separate wheat from chaff via an I.Q. test, and this email just in:
“Why is it that everything that sounds to me to be of potential importance also sounds critical; I ask this since you keep insisting that if you are being critical of something, you can never understand it.
Sincerely,” etc.
Ponder: is what he mentioned concerning his self a common phenomenon?
Does everything that strikes the human mind as being of metaphysical significance seem based on criticism?  –  if so: What do you make of that?
Is there a single feature of man’s entire cultural oeuvre that is purely positive?
Can ordinary men have art, religion, morality, civilization itself
without ever-present condemnation?