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The Daily Reflections
of Jan Cox

A rebel standing near the center of the cleared campsite thought, "If you don't have bushes you can't peek through the bushes," and as he moved on to dead center of the cleared area he further realized, "If you don't have such bushes and undergrowth you don't even need to hide and peek."

 

Historical Note:
The victorious Caesar climactically entering Rome stole a bit from a prior neurological episode central to the history of one man's intellectual development.

 

 

Some people like some stories right up to the very end;
some others like some stories UNTIL the very end;
what are you gonna do?!!
And the Chief Storyteller demanded,
"Shoot everybody with ears!"

 

 

Near the fringes of one city, a man who bills himself as "The Psychologist From Hell" says his research now conclusively proves that everyone's nervous system "harbors a gangster." (He further notes that his brother works in the D.A.'s office and that we'd all "better watch it!")
A gentleman totally unrelated to this story says he's always believed that a "combination threat" is almost as worthy as "combination stupidity." Turns out his business card reads, "Dunderheads: Cheaper By The Dozen, More Precious By The Pound."

 

One king kept a pet bear.
The bear ate him.
He doesn't keep him any more.

 

 

For strictly revolutionist purposes, anyone who "identifies with" any collective values or ideas paints a large bulls eye on the back of their intellectual life.
(Oh yeah, and Robin Hood does you no good if ALL your thoughts are poor.)

 

 

Evidencing a scintilla of apprehension, one chap says he visited a place where "day began at a different time every morning." (He further notes that he didn't even leave home.)
(Many things can get an ordinary man's mind started each day--desire is not one of them--that's the job of your neighborhood revolutionist.)

 

One man said that his own thinking was "so much fun" that he didn't need poorly written TV shows and newspapers--that is, he said that until he realized he'd mistaken the latter for the former.

 

 

Without ever "going the distance" all fighters can imagine they're winners.
(....and a chap, second row, aisle, says, "I ain't gettin' the hell beat up for nobody just so's I can think better....No sir, count me out!")

 

 

A subversive neighborhood of one guy's neural city reported the following:"A man carrying with him a definition of himself is like wearing a backpack filled with starving, flesh-loving rats."
(This picture filled him with such unexpected filling that he could hardly go on for a while.)

 

 

Almost by the time he could talk, one little child in the rear of the bus gurgled out to his seat-companions, "A mind without thoughts is like a septic tank company with no holidays." (Those who could stand gave him a standing ovation.

A jurist on vacation made this mental note to him (or her) self: "Another aspect of the innate fairness of the city is that it requires no special training to ride the bus--but also no particular credentials are needed to drive it either."
(Then, presently pleased and satisfied, he pulled a newspaper up over his face and took a nap.)

 

 

From Revolutionist Rhetoric:
Everybody has two names: a city name and a non-city one.
(You can't ask for more than that!)
[Unless of course you really are a revolutionist.]

 

 

On a small scrap of aggressive paper one man kept a reminder that he carried with him at all times. It said, "Remember: A grin is as good as a grave."
(And in retaliation a nearby city yelled out, "Yeah, but also remember this: Over here, the dead don't smile.")
[According to where you live, of course, "over here" can be real, real close.]

After the new State Priest's Official Investiture, the King kinda sneered and asked him, "So now you're the latest in a continuous line of 'privileged personages,' but tell me--who was it then that anointed the first in your special dynasty?!!" And the priest replied, "You know as well as I, Your Grace, that the power-mad can kneel and stand at the same time."

 

 

To the ordinary mind of the expert
verbosity and generosity damn-near rhyme.
....later that same lifetime, an expert emailed: "Dear Sirs & Madams: Do you infer that men in my position talk too much?"
Please note, friends & neighbors, that hardly any one ever writes in to ask, "Is the implication that I 'think too little?'" which certainly is not peculiar since no one ever asks their self that either.

 

 

After climbing around on this mountain for several decades one guy finally listened to his tiring muscles who said, "Hey, why bother! Give it up! They're never gonna give a fat man your age a medal anyway!" (The father leader of one inter-family expedition said to his son, "No matter whether it ever actually speaks or not, the primary world has an answer for everything.")

 

 

Collective-thought gives ordinary men the impression
of having a bigger mind than they actually do.

 

 

During coffee-break (and on his own time) one of the park philosophers sat alone under a tree and tried to put himself into the future by pondering: "I wonder which will prove to be the hardest: 'Knowing what's going on' or knowing-what's-going-on and trying to do something about it?!!"
(Just then the whistle blew, and it was "back to work" for all.)

 

 

Intellectual Spotter's Tip:
You can tell a man who "knows what's going on" by the fact that he doesn't stand out in the crowd.

 

 

And from our audience comes this message:
"The more I consider what you say,
the less sure I am that it's as simple as it sounds.
Truly Yours," etc.