Tickled

On exceedingly dull days, one guy would often say to himself, “Hey, mind your own business.”

 

 

The fact alone that something was made up, is not sufficient cause to dismiss it entirely.

 

 

No child over the age of eight, who shows any political interests, should be made to ever take an IQ test.

 

 

In the visible parts of this universe, tickled enough, all info will laugh.

 

 

On this one younger planet, (or perhaps it's older), you’re only allowed to lie to people before you know their name.

J.

Institutional Bias

Upon hearing the term “institutional bias,” one fellow dismissed it by noting that Life itself is the supreme institution, and the ultimate bias.

 

 

On this one planet
every day is its own
wake-up call.
 

 

 

When things have a premise, they can only be correct in one direction, but without a premise, they can point to a plurality of operational alternatives.

 

 

Can you believe it, (say I in mock horror), in some places they still revere artifacts!

 

 

Do not save on permanent disk: Once it reaches optimum complexity, dimensions can be revealed. 

J.

Coming-and-Going

If you do ever stumble into one of those worlds where everything’s the same coming-and-going, you might check with yourself to see if you are arriving or leaving.

 

 

In certain areas of some systems, modified behavior is no behavior at all, while in some others "modified" is the only behavior deemed minimally acceptable.

 

 

One pubescent planet adopted the directive, “Stick to the essentials and ignore the peripheral,” until they discovered that it’s all peripheral.

 

 

With expanding intelligence, it is not a matter of now or never, but of now or now.

 

 

Those truly “asking for trouble,” are actually asking for everything.

J.

Fill in the Blank

Anyone who still thinks a lot about the past is _______ (you fill in the blank).

 

 

All failures
are
3-D failures.

 

 

On this one planet, after concluding that the abnormal among them weren’t responsible for their abnormal behavior, they decided that the normal were likewise not responsible for their normal behavior…and after that, they didn’t seem to know where to go with this.

 

 

A gift for
self parody
is a talent
equitably
distributed.

 

 

I finally found this one zone where their funeral-type services never mention god, or death.

J.

Modern

On this one particular artsy world, if they don’t know what it is, they call it "modern"; if they don’t know what it means, they call it "post-modern" and if they don’t care, it’s out-dated.

 

 

There is this place where the people who “know something” are low-tech on the outside, while otherwise inside.

 

 

Heard this one little feller say; “My life’s now just a satire of its previous satire.”

 

 

On some worlds
the memory of it
is still news.

 

 

From one quarter, I heard a person proclaim, “It’s actually pretty easy to cut down on drug related deaths if we can just cut down on deaths.”

J.

The Background

If you ignore
the background
you’ve missed
the whole painting.

 

 

In their continuing attempt, one state has devised a language in which every word ends in Q.

 

 

The voice over the PA finally announced: “The guilty party can now be seated in the main dining room.”

 

 

Those who see upcoming negative certainties, never actually see the Big Future.

 

 

In linear activities, the incompetent, due to their incompetence, cannot, thank god, realize their incompetence.

J.

The Door Prize

First the political revolutions,
then the industrial ones,
then the scientific revolutions,
and now – the door prize.

 

 

Hefty art commands hefty prices.  (At least in Hefty-ville.)

 

 

I heard of this one place, where you weren’t allowed to speak until you were intellectually house broken.

 

 

In some parts of several universes, most all of their info is imported.

 

 

One of the juicier parts of doing this, is that you can hardly do it wrong.

J.

The Land of Metaphor

Your freedom
will not be found
by being found
not guilty.

 

 

If you wanted to, you could look at This as a generic version of all the other things that claim to be this.

 

 

Retreat may not be a crime, but bumping into yourself while doing so should be.

 

 

On this one planet, it is against the law to paint or otherwise represent a likeness of any dead person, or of anything else no longer available or viable.  What a backward lot.  (Is there a difference between a backward lot and a lot of backward?)

 

 

Let us never forget the wonderful land of metaphor and the wonderful Metaphorians!

J.

Hope

Only a man uniquely trained in the mental martial arts can safely “take on himself.”

 

 

Have you heard the tales about the hotter regions of that constellation just over there, where it is said that, “the swelling never goes down”?

 

 

In a place where they never discuss hope, there may be some.

 

 

Over in this other reality
just before everything
came together
it all came apart.

 

 

The places in most universes where the creatures still want to make sacrifices to the gods are the same places where the gods will, apparently, take ‘em and never say, “Thank you.”

J.

On the Count of Three...

Performed properly, cosmetic surgery done to oneself leaves no scars.

 

 

In this life, some say they don’t know when to begin, and others say they don’t know when to finish, and so as to not completely lose your way in this linear trek, just be prepared and remember this:  On the count of three, get ready for four.

 

 

Heard of this fellow who, after a lifetime of deep doubt regarding the validity of his own words, undertook a strenuous regimen of exercises, studies and disciplines, until the day arrived that he could say, “I now like me better than anybody!”  And he suddenly fell into a brand new funk of deep doubt regarding the validity of his own taste.

 

 

Feeling guilty
is like
having big ears.

 

 

Then this one guy whined, “Well sure, looked at from that position, anything’s possible."

J.

Believe-It-Or-Don't

Believe-it-or-don’t, but I know of this one place where things can even be inferior to the counterfeit.

 

 

For those of you developing a taste for data that is passionate, stimulating, even downright erotic, you might remember the following:  Info that “takes sides” is not a virgin, cannot be faithful, and will not be the nurse when you wanna play doctor, and vice versa.

 

 

“Saving for a rainy day,” may turn out to be a disappointing hobby if you move to the sun.

 

 

One of the smaller states on this world I once visited, announced that they wanted to “succeed” from their federation, (and although I pointed out that succeed was not the verb they were looking for under the circumstances, they continued to use it.)  But, back to the story; in their plans of becoming a separate sovereignty, they had already decided on their national motto, which was to be, and I quote: “It’s All According To What You Want.”

 

 

Finding some of your relatives feeling disappointed is no crime. Being surprised by such a discovery is.

J.

Here and There

And in this other peculiar place over there, whatever you say is understood. (And one voice said, “Let’s stay here.”)

 

 

In the 3-D sectors of this universe, the areas wherein science and magic are said to split are, in fact, where the available dimensions turn-the-corner.  (Addendum for those on foreign exchange scholarships:  For the words, “science” and “magic,” you may substitute, “knowledge” and “ignorance.”)

 

 

While you’re waiting, ponder the local logic of this one chap I met just over there, just the other eon.  He said that all of the truly great men of history were singled out, attacked and eventually destroyed by the Philistines, mental midgets, and intellectual dwarfs of their time, and since he was still unnoticed it just proved that men were becoming “dumber and blinder than ever.”

 

 

This one humanoidal-looking chap was heard to say that, “looking back over one’s Life,” helped again to remind one of the transitory nature of one’s back.

 

 

In an unarmed state,
the guy with the gun
is everybody’s friend.

J.

Somewhere

Some more philosophical riddle-bits from the PooBah Planet: “Ugly authors won’t resist appearing on dust jackets.”

 

 

Over on this other planet, they decided to finally just abandon the whole question, and proclaimed by official decree that, “There is no ‘right now.’”

 

 

In a decent universe, the art of healing could be firmly based on hand-to-head combat.

 

 

One guy said, “It is the surprising alternatives that makes the unavoidable tolerable.”

 

 

Around here,
no matter where
you look
it’s somewhere.

J.

The Real Beginning

The real beginning of everything, picks right up where you’d least expect it.

 

 

On this one planet, accepting help is not shameful; having to ask for it is.

 

 

Then there’s this other world,where “people you don’t like the looks of,” shouldn’t have any fun.

 

 

Speaking strictly in a non-academic manner, and strictly to himself, this one tall chap would often say, “History’s got no future.”

 

Now is as good a time as any to remind yourself that selective thought is local thought.

J.

Smarts

Over in the Blue-By-Red sector, I heard one guy say to himself, “If you were half as smart as you think you are, or if you were half as smart as you think I am, and if I was half as smart as I think you are, or half as smart as I think I am, do you realize we’d add up to two whole smarts?”

 

 

And now, yet another answer to another age old question, the one of, “Who am I?” and the answer is that you are just who you think you are – including the you that thinks it doesn’t know who it is.

 

 

Just because you thought of something, doesn’t mean you’ve thought about it.

 

 

It is rumored that, in one part of the universe, only those die who fear they will die.

 

 

On this one planet that I’m sure some of you would enjoy, they have no synonym for “correct.”

J.

 

Things with Foreign Names

Looking up words won’t necessarily help, and having them look you up can be downright life threatening.

 

 

No matter who you are, no matter where you live, whenever you hear the term, “They’re coming to get you,” just remember, they’re talking about someone – hell, anyone – else.

 

 

Be forewarned: Things with foreign names may be foreign.

 

 

If you’re not
laughing
you’re not
looking.

 

 

One chap sez that it may be safest to talk only after dark…while alone…in another country, if not another world.

J.

Report from Planet PooBah

One kid announced, “I don’t think it’s necessarily de rigueur to listen to those older than you until you know by what methods they got older than you.”

 

 

Staying
down on the farm
won’t necessarily
help the farm.

 

 

While allowing that secondary activities do have their own reward, this one fellow added that the payoffs still tended to be in credits and promissory notes rather than hard cash.

 

 

Latest bit of philosophy from that illustrious Planet PooBah: The ill prepared, who trust that the game will be called on account of rain, and who play in the desert, have more over their heads than sheets.

 

 

Whilst seriously pondering that semi-cosmic question of, “Just what do I owe my fellow man?” this one guy fell asleep.

J.

Look Back

In his first attempt to “look back over his life,” I heard one chap exclaim, “It’s not back there!”

 

 

Good Hint For The Day:

Always wait for them
to call out your number –
and then some!

 

 

One of this guy’s voices told another one, “Look me in the eye and say that.”  The other voice replied, “You know I’m not ambidextrous.”

 

 

Although it usually occurs in a darkened part of this universe, and is not seen by naked eyes, differences do overlap.

 

 

A chap I met in that other precinct, said that he sure wished his cerebral cells wanted to travel as badly as his spermatozoan ones did.

J.

Your Place or Mine?

In an ephemeral moment of celluloid certainty, one guy muttered, “My life’s been just a bunch of outtakes.”

 

 

When someone asks, “Your place or mine?” you best first ascertain if they’re from the same universe as you.

 

 

To worry about being hurt is to be hurt.

 

 

In many places
the daily specia
l is always
yesterday du jour.

 

 

Apparently, as some attempt at humor, one guy would often sing to himself, “Please don’t talk about me when I’m gone…”

J.

Far Away Voices

Overheard in a nearby library, a voice inquiring, “Just which thoughts are reusable?”

 

 

Over in that little humid sector of the near frontier, one fellow expressed the joy of his efforts by saying that he was to the point where reality almost made sense.

 

 

Those who hear
far away voices
are not themselves
necessarily far away.

 

 

Responding to the endless, historical condemnation of human violence, one fellow stated that if the gods hadn’t wanted men to be aggressive, we wouldn’t have been born with weapons.

 

 

The battle cry of one certain slick galaxy is, “Why shucks, we ain’t got no battle cry, y’all.”

J.