Weekend Report:

The Secret Life Of Talk:
The ordinary think there's more to it than there is.

Even a consciously conceived and reticent recluse
may still talk to himself
when the moon is full,
and he near empty.

One guy rang up life and said,
"Disconnect my cable service, if you please."
And life just chuckled, "'If you please'!"

Unrecognized by all but a few,
there is a stupefying energy that clouds men's minds.
It's known as thought -- ordinary, everyday thought.

When you've been swallowed by a beast with a scarlet stomach lining,
it's difficult to ever make objective observations regarding the color red.

The simple minded, that is, including the ordinarily educated of the world,
continue to wonder which has the greatest effect on what they are:
their inherited traits, or their environment.
(As though they can somehow be distinct from the environment.)

The difference between the more conscious and routinely so is that,
even though they are both at home,
the routinely conscious never come to realize it.

The sound of passion in an ordinary man's speech
is like a dash of salt added to an otherwise unappetizing dish of cardboard.

One chap wrote a song he entitled "My Thinking Is A Prison"
but it depressed him so much that he tore it up!
...(And would only perform it on special occasions.)