A king proclaimed: “No knight may marry my daughter who cannot weep when a comrade is wounded; who will not stop to aid the weak, and who will not hesitate to spit in the face of fate when denied his destiny,” and some villager shouted out:
“You don’t have a daughter,” and His Grace yelled back: “And you are no knight,
or you would not engage me in such meaningless squabbles.”
 
 

This one reality stood up (from his seat at the head of the table), rapped a knife on a glass for quiet, then said: “Let us observe a few seconds of silence in tribute to those who could not be with us this evening,” and as the guests began to ponder the possibility of just where else they could be, waves of giggles & guffaws started to sweep the room and just ruined the moment.
It is extremely difficult for many people to ascertain when and whether local reality is just having a bit of sport with them and when it is being serious  –
so difficult in fact that most everyone gives up trying.
 
 

The appearance of things is an essential part of things  –
why else do you think they have an appearance.
 
 

With the ordinary mind, knowledge is like a substitute for understanding.
(Or maybe: understanding lite).
 
 

Trying apparently to act preemptorily, one god named the local reality put in his charge: “Who The Hell Do You Think I Am & What The Fuck Do You Believe
I Can Do About Things!?”
 
 

The appearance of things are an essential part of things  –
that’s why things  –  especially in man’s second-reality   –  have a verbal appearance.
 
 

One man now says that above all other examples he has decided that the main trick
in helping yourself is to mostly just stay-out-of-the-way.
 
 

Something that is of definite help in awakening is to never grow up.
 
 

Concerning City Conveyances.
A man with a bow tie, a cliché and a .45 automatic can always talk to the driver  –
no matter what the sign says.
 
 

And now another exciting item from our: Believe It Or Eat A Shoe files: Someone broke into our files and stole everything but this one item.
 
 

One father’s advice to the son: “There are three ways to figure something out:
First is to try to figure it out for yourself; then read what conclusion others came to when they tried, then go back and figure the thing out for yourself.”
It doesn’t matter how many parisians say they’ve been to istanbul – they still haven’t.
 
 

In the city, just feeling guilty can get you through a lot.
 
 

One man’s word processor let him down, “Thank god!” noted he,
“That it wasn’t anything really important, like my mind,” then suddenly screamed: “Mien Gott!  –  I had it backwards!”
 
 

One ole city sorehead (as he gazed upon one of its educational institutions) sniped:
“I believe the degrees they award people who have attended for many years
are not for their intellectual achievements but  rather for putting up with
attending for so many years.”
 
 

A reader insists on an insertion of his own personal: Maxim Update.
Drunkenness is willful sanity.
 
 

Definition.
“I”  –  a verbal shadow of temperament.
 
 

The primary purpose of city education is to keep you from being a thief.
    (“And I take it there are multiple layers to this?!”)
 
 

Says a fellow: “One benefit of being asleep is that it gives you something
to blame everything on.”
 
 

When one neural rebel (in an act of magnanimity) tapped his head and told his
natural-born mind: “MY home in here is your home also,” it immediately snarled:
“Then get the hell outta my house.”
In a family filled with women of various degrees of attractiveness only the truly beautiful one can bear living with her sisters  –  but not the other way around.
(Aka: The awakened can bear the sleeping but not vice versa.)
    “Is this why, pa pa, that you cannot be enlightened and a dunce simultaneously?!”
“Why do you say that?  –  have you tried?”
 
 
 

As long as you don’t listen it doesn’t matter that no one knows what they’re
talking about, now does it.
 
 

One man says he considers his verbal-based personality to be a socially transmitted disease.     (“At least, thank god, sex didn’t have anything to do with it……..........………..did it!?!”)
 
 

And one guy’s veiled threat to collective humanity: “Just keep talking!”
 
 

How Are Things In The City Today?
Over seven-eighths of everything men believe is false      (but fortuitously no one cares).
 
 

A father noted to a son:
“The difference between Symphonic music and Chamber music is that ‘twix Rembrandt and doodlin’.”
    “Between real thinking and the sort carried on by civilians?!”
“Perzactamunday.”
 
 

One guy’s hope: “What you eat when you’re naked doesn’t count,
nor stupid stuff you say when alone.”
And another chap treats ideas his mind has picked up from others same as he does left-over food: “I wrap it carefully in foil  –  then throw it out.”
 
 

If (has been opined) good health consists of having the same diseases as your neighbors, then being normal consists of being deluded in the precise manner as are your contemporaries.                            (See how simple things are once you catch on.)
 
 

Another Conversation.
“Bulls bellow, but cows give milk.”
    “And I suppose this has something to do with men’s ordinary verbal minds
      and the rebel’s more tacit version?!”
 
 

No one is more sincere than a well paid shill.
 
 

When women get depressed they go shopping;
  when kingdoms get depressed they go to war
     and when individual men get depressed they start talking.
 
 

Being properly civilized and city immunized is in being able to listen to
all manner of foolishness without laughing.
 
 

One ole sorehead says that one benefit of carrying a pistol is that all of those around you have the ongoing opportunity of committing suicide.
 
 

No one speaks the facts when there is anything else at all they can say.
 
 

Noted one father to a son:
”I don’t reckon that being ordinary will kill you  –  but why take the chance.”
 
 

The Normally Unseen Spectrum.
The color of the truth is blinding sunlight.
 
 

Standing astride the city, another ole sorehead says:
“I have conclusive proof that I speak The Truth  --   no one will listen to me.”