Thinking About Thinking

2011-06-16T10:32:00.000-07:00

CLICK ON THE BALL, THEN TRY OTHER OPTIONS:

Summary of a talk given by Jan Cox, Dec.3, 1990

2011-02-18T21:09:00.000-08:00

The conservative, bland nature of ordinary existence is for the sake of cultural continuity (and transition), and it effected via speech. E.g., "interviews" where the interviewee uses the interviewer's question as the initial part of his response. One person's ending is the start of someone else's beginning. Also, teasers/promo of upcoming news coverage during network news programs; this is the height of efficiency in giving episodic consciousness a feel for the seamlessness of life.

Alcohol/drugs interfere with personal continuity; this is disturbing to others (thus to Life and its agenda-of-growth) and Life causes many to be critical of such behavior. Continuity is a very important ingredient in the machinery of energy distribution within the Body of Life.

When men entered into the civilizing process by beginning to band together, note that the first institution necessary for culture/civilization growth is commercial exchange, i.e., trade. The ultimate trade is in information, particularly cultural info. The trade in transformational info (outside the range of continuity) is the ultimate info exchange, but it has no commercial market, i.e., there is no one to trade with. Therefore one interested in transcendence must find/re-invent a marketplace. This requires a sacrifice, the ultimate sacrifice: sacrifice of your own ordinary knowledge. But it is the most impossible of all sacrifices while appearing to be the easiest. And this sacrifice of knowledge must be effected without keeping the memory alive of having done so, for memory is the agent of individual continuity.

Words are Drugs

2011-02-04T12:52:00.000-08:00

Everyone unknowingly wants to have their brain chemistry continually altered. This includes everything from ice cream to greed. Were it not for the brain no one would seek beyond the plainest of fare at the Primary Level [physical-body]. The Secondary Level [thought-based, cultural] is specifically for directly stimulating the brain chemistry. There is no option for men, they must engage in Secondary Level activity for such stimulation; talk is the necessary agent in this. Thought itself shifts the brain chemistry. Words are the ultimate brain mutagen. Words are drugs; memory is an exceptional packaging for the reuse of same. Words have a much greater impact, power over the brain than any physical drugs. Were this not the case, why would anyone heed words? (Jan Cox, Feb 11, 1990)

Speech is the Ultimate Armor

2011-02-04T12:12:00.000-08:00

Prepositions connect the brain with ignorance; they act as a shield or bridge to the noun/subject. which then passes for a physical-world thing or action. Speech is the ultimate armor; it is a kind of non-physical defense of the burgeoning intellect. Speech is the brain's "fists or feet" (fight or flight) equivalent of the body. The more specialized the speech, the greater the defense it offers against criticism. For A Neural Revolutionary it is necessary to be able to talk without a subject and think without an object, to engage in unaccompanied, naked song to no known score. (Jan Cox, Feb.1990)

The Absence Paradox

2011-02-04T11:49:00.000-08:00

If you are somewhere else, you are not here.

You are not in Rome; you are somewhere else.

Therefore you are not here. (via futilitycloset.com)

One Man's Meat...

2011-02-04T11:42:00.000-08:00

Politically everyone is born a citizen; religiously everyone is born a child of his god; personally everyone is born into the impersonal Body of Life. Man is born in captivity so as to dream of freedom. This leaves open the question of who defines freedom. The question of whether man is free and thus responsible or not is moot. The real question is: What is freedom (for me). Life knocking at the door doesn't have an answer for you on this, but it is the Neural Revolutionary's meat. (Jan Cox, Feb.1990)

The Door

2011-02-04T11:28:00.000-08:00

Immediately after the Creation, came "The Door". The door is how Life talks to man; Life is continually knocking on the door. The answering of the door is all that counts, not the significance of who may be knocking. People are wired such that it's impossible for them not to answer the door. A Neural Revolutionary (NR)can cease to answer the door. Life demands that you answer the door, all thoughts and feelings are secondary to the primary purpose of response to Life's knock.

A method available to the NR to assist in not-answering the door: thinking more than he has to; in this way he can determine who's knocking, its origin and whether or not it is to his advantage to answer the door or not... (Jan Cox - Feb. 1990)

The Pickle

2010-01-17T09:40:00.000-08:00

You cannot know you are enlightened. You can only know that you are not enlightened. That is the pickle. Understand that and make relish.

Thumbnail sketch of Jan Cox talk given Sep 30, 2005

2009-08-21T10:19:00.000-07:00

If automatic thinking doesn’t bother you, you’ll not do anything about it. Automatic thinking is the basis of your personality; it makes you witty, popular, brilliant, kind etc., and also the reverse of these. Another method of struggle against automatic thinking: never give voice to the first thing that comes into your mind in reaction to some stimulus. Indeed, don’t even think the thought. The first thing arising in your mind is NEVER of benefit for awakening. (30:03) #3359

Thumbnail sketch of Jan Cox talk given Sep 19, 2005

2009-08-21T10:11:00.000-07:00

There is no “right” way to pursue enlightenment; but the successful end result is simply to know what consciousness is. Night dreaming is automatic thinking written in a different hand, in different ink. Supreme automatism is to be in the groggy twilight zone after waking up and STILL want to think about the dream, even when you know it is a dream. The only thing we can think about is what happens outside of us…AND how we feel. Under ordinary conditions, the mind cannot think about itself: introspection is an illusion. The mind can think/say that it does…but it does not. (34:25) #3354

Seeing vs. Understanding

2009-08-03T13:22:00.000-07:00

The Nature of the Physical World, by Douglas Harding, author of On Having No Head

Science -- or rather, science misunderstood and gone haywire – has come up with a great deal of unscientific nonsense in its time. And the most prevalent, the most silly, the most absurd piece of pseudo-scientific nonsense is the dogma that consciousness is a by-product of matter -- a kind of incidental and accidental effluvium or subtle radiation that matter gives off when it gets sufficiently complex, as in human brains. The one thing led to the other, as if brains happened to grow a bump of consciousness in addition to the other bumps! As if the protuberance on the top of the head of images of the Buddha were the bump of that superconsciouness which he called enlightenment! In the beginning was a lot of stuff, and in the course of time it got around to noticing itself! Clever stuff! Wonder of wonders, object gives birth to subject. Are we astounded at such a maculate Conception and Nativity? Not at all. We take it in our stride. The primacy of matter over spirit is simply taken for granted. It is among the least challenged of the myths we live by.

That things should produce awareness of things -- and by chance, at that -- is, when you think of it, quite weird. It's like supposing that the movie-projector is operated by one of the actors on the screen. Equally odd is the notion that the subject can be examined from outside as if it were some kind of object. How can the subject be discovered except from within, by subjectivity itself? In any case there's not a particle of evidence of material things giving rise to consciousness. No one has ever observed it happen, or explained what to look for. In fact, the very idea is nonsensical.

What is a material object, according to science itself? It is a collection of phenomena (from the Greek phainein, to show), a set of regional appearances/pictures/readings which the scientist picks up and pieces together as he hovers round the "thing" he's surveying from various angles, at various distances, with the help of various instruments. What these regional appearances are appearances of, what nestles at their center, is hidden from him. However close he gets to that thing so-called, he remains too far off to say what it really is, intrinsically, at no distance from itself. The scientist, as such, is an outsider.

But he does have two clues to what's inside:

His first clue is that the nearer he gets to the thing the less "thingy" and the more empty it becomes. Progressively stripping it of assets, he comes to regions where all that remains of that seemingly solid object is space haunted by twists of energy, so to speak. Beauty and ugliness, utility, life, color, opacity, shape, even precise location -- all are left behind by the approaching observer. There's not a quality or function that will stand up to close inspection. It is distance that lends these enchantments. Go up to anything and you lose it.

But just a minute! Who goes up to that thing and loses it? Who registers the dismantling and disappearance of the object and its reduction to virtual emptiness? Why, the scientist himself, of course, as consciousness. He leaves all behind except awareness. You could say he takes it with him wherever he goes, because that is what he is. It's impossible for him to explore the physical world of cells and molecules and atoms and particles and leave it merely physical: his active presence there infects it through and through and at every level with spirit. As for the space that underlies all, how could his awareness of it be separated from that space? Just as there's no way of entering an [imaginary] house, so there's no way of contemplating mindless space. No wonder subatomic physics is forced by the facts to bring the observer into the picture. In fact, while the picture fades on ever-closer examination, the consciousness that illuminates it shines all the more brightly. Matter dissolves in favor of spirit.

Let me put it in another -- and I think better -- way. Things can be moved and carried around. Not so consciousness of things. It isn't a torch which the scientist takes along with him to shine on things, or an air freshener he sprays them with, or a laser beam he directs at them. Wherever he goes it's already there, inseparable from the very nature of those things. If for the word consciousness or spirit I read God (and there are many worse names for It) then I can say with the Psalmist:

Whither shall I go from thy spirit, or whither shall I flee from thy presence? If I ascend up into heaven, thou are there: if I make my bed in hell, behold thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
Even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me.

In short, spirit or consciousness underlies all, and there is no such thing as the merely physical. A phenomenon or regional appearance by itself, without a central reality of which it is an appearance – what sort of nonsense is that, for heaven's sake?

There exist two distinct kinds of things (so-called) which are available for the scientist's inspection -- the observed thing and the observing thing. That is to say, other bodies, and his own body. We have just seen to what conclusions his examination of other bodies leads. Now let us find out whether they are confirmed by his examination of his own body, the specimen he carries around with him all the while.

Here, nearer than near, is his second clue to what things really are, as distinct from what they look like at a distance. Here is his very own sample lump of matter, always handy, requiring no laboratory or instruments for its most searching examination, constantly reporting on its true and intrinsic nature, transparent through and through to his direct inspection. If (and it's a very big if) he takes seriously this unique and precious sample -- if and when he dares to look at what he's looking out of, inspecting it from inside that one thing on which he is the final authority -- why then he finds it to be quite
empty, and in fact no kind of thing at all. A nothing keenly aware of itself as just that. Such is the view of himself at no distance from himself, provided he is honest and attentive enough. Which is to say, truly scientific.

Notice how nicely these two clues confirm each other. Whether looked at from outside or inside, bodies dissolve, matter vanishes, spirit remains -- once we bother to go into the matter. "Spirit is the living body seen from within, and the body is the outer manifestation of the living spirit." Extend this statement by Carl Jung to all bodies from electrons to galaxies, and you have the ultimate physics.

To understand the primacy of spirit is good. To realize it, to see it, wordlessly to experience it, to be it without thinking about it -- this is incomparably better. And incomparably easier: in fact, understanding must always be about its object, hovering round and about it and never gaining admittance. That is why the rest of this chapter is a heartfelt invitation to the reader to do one or two little experiments, which will surely lead to this direct perception of what would otherwise remain a mere set of lifeless concepts.

Observe this thing you are now holding. What in reality is this object called "book"? I mean this actual wad of paper with printing. There it is, a solid enough lump of stuff a few inches wide and long and less than an inch thick, weighing rather less than a pound, covered with (I trust) meaningful black marks on a white surface. Now where are these meaningful patterns that you are currently taking in? Are they over there, some 12 inches away, or are they where you are? Well, let's put the matter to the test. Go right up to the page and see. Apply your eye to this printing, as if you were putting on a
contact lens. Yes please, all the way. If you feel a bit ridiculous, remember what's at stake. Namely Reality itself, and your status within it. Go on ...

What did you see? I venture to say that what you found there was not meaningful sentences, not loose words, not a string of letters, not even fuzzy black marks on a white ground, but an illegible blur. And, on contact, nothing at all. You lost everything, but you didn't lose consciousness. It was the book, not you, that passed away. The nothing you found wasn't just nothing at all -- whatever that monster could be -- it was Nothing but Awareness. "There is a Light by which things are
seen," says Ramana Maharshi, "and if divested of things the Light alone remains."

So much for where these printed words are coming from. Where are they going to? Who is reading them now, on present evidence? What is taking them in? In your firsthand experience at this moment, is it a solid, rounded, hairy thing with two peepholes in it? Only you -- you who are your own closest inspector -- are in a position to say. Again, isn't it true that what you go right up to you lose? You certainly go all the way to you. So it's no wonder that you vanish, just as the page did, leaving only awareness. Intrinsically, then, the Reader is the same as the Read, and none other than Spirit which is indivisible. To put it picturesquely, this page of printing is a letter from Spirit to Spirit, a love-letter from You to You. And, of course, what's true of this page is true of the other pages in this book when you come to them, and of the hands that are now holding it, and of the furniture in the room, and of all that's going on outside. They are views of You, messages from You, displayed to You. At root, all you perceive is Yourself, heavily disguised as someone else, for your entertainment
and refreshment.

It would be difficult to overstate the practical importance of this discovery, its consequences for everyday living. All alienation, all separation, the many-sided threat of hostile things and persons and situations -- these are no more than bad dreams. All is You. How could you fear Yourself? How could you despise, resent, be bored by Yourself? How could you not love Yourself?

All this and more than this. Everything you see and hear and handle is something you want to say to yourself, something well worth saying, something significant -- even if it's only about an oncoming bus. There can be no dreadful or garbled or meaningless messages from you to You. News about You, read by You, is good news, however bad it may sound to the hearer who is deaf to its Source and Destiny in himself as Spirit. To him Ramana says: "The imperfection appears to you. God is perfection. His work also is perfection. But you see it as imperfection because of your wrong identification ... Find out if you are physical."

In conclusion, then, the spirit which is one and the same in all beings is the true nature of what we take to be the physical world. Things as such have no substance and no reality and no power at all. You could call them pictures of God held up by God for his own inspection, and in themselves less than paper-thin. All you have to do to live from this realization is to go on seeing who's doing it. And I mean seeing, not understanding.

Summary of Talk given by Jan Cox on 1/4/1988

2009-05-28T21:33:00.000-07:00

Problems, unless due to a physical chemical imbalance (i.e., physical illness) are hierarchical position problems. No exceptions. Depression is a chemical imbalance. Note the nondescript character of the limbic versus the cerebral systems. What if the limbic/emotional is developed exclusively for the processing of hierarchical position problems? This is not a province for the Neural Revolutionary; it is unfitting for a NR to care about pack position.

The ordinary treat problems by denial, a lessening, a withdrawal of consciousness of the problem (e.g., taking a drink to escape); this too is unfitting conduct for the NR. Such withdrawal of consciousness is a form of chemical self-protection for the ordinary. The so-called answers to problems require a price no one can pay: giving up a part of themselves, the part which is affected by the solution. Connected with this: any dream you can specifically formulate (put into words) can not come true; it will not have the specific experiential taste you anticipated.

Absolutely forget every definitively imagined solution you've ever come up with for your problems. Consider: something introduced by Jan ( in the fits and starts common to his method) which you gained some significant insight from, and when later enlarged upon turns out to be opposite from your insight, makes your insight wrong--yet nevertheless the original insight (still 'wrong') benefit continues! This is a commingling of contrast which yields a super-fund of new data. When some problem between two in the Group results in Jan becoming involved as the third member with a mandated solution--if the problem resurfaces, it's your fault in a willful manner.

Time/consciousness contrast. If consciousness is slow relative to time flow, then time seems too quick; not enough time to deal with problems. If consciousness is quick relative to time flow of events, then time slows, becomes adequate to manage problems. Quick consciousness = dominant force. Slow consc. = submissive force. The lessening, withholding of consciousness = submission; submission is the slowing down of consciousness.

Despite the fact that in every instant case the dominant, quicker force triumphs, ultimate victory belongs to the slower/submissive force in the 4-d view.

In the social structure of humanity (lower, middle, upper) it is only the adjacent levels that try to impress/dominate each other. The extremes never even attempt it. The bourgeoisie/middleclass attempts to imitate the upper and dominate--force submission--on the lower in order to enhance their sensation of upward mobility in the hierarchy. Consider the internal use of this; the king (higher understanding) ignores the commoners (the ordinary, oblivious neural functioning).

God/Religion and the Dominant/Submissive Dance

2009-05-14T11:59:00.000-07:00

[A thumbnail sketch of a talk given by Jan Cox, 1/28/1988]

God/religion is the ultimate dominating agent. Men are dying to submit, even to the extent of not needing positive proof of God's existence. Ordinary consciousness takes love to be a 'thing' which has been improperly used. But love is behavior, not a thing. Love is cellular-level behavior, functioning at the efficiency needed by Life right now. All “dissatisfaction” is a crying out for love. Whatever is held admirable and noble, divine, by Life is by definition unattainable. All definitive dreams are ipso facto unachievable.

“To err is human”: human foibles/flaws are the primary flow system/mechanism for energy movement in humanity; without the ordinary feeling in men of incompleteness, of falling short of the mark, civilization would be impossible.

Any form of criticism = hostility. Hostility is an absolute block to New Information. Hostility is a response to your own limits, thus you cannot see beyond them— cannot see/hear what any situation says to you.

To be truly rich is to not care about it. The Neural Revolutionary has got to be so rich in New Information as to have no care about his ordinary self. Don't try to be anything; don't tell yourself what you think you are. If you do, you immediately preclude learning anything extraordinary. You’re stuck fighting the “tar baby”.

A Real Hobby is the enjoyment of a favored activity without the need of an audience. Private enjoyment. Everything else is a cry: “Look at me!” and unworthy of a Neural Revolutionist.

A way around the Ruling Powers of Ordinary Consciousness: don't talk to yourself about what you are doing (remember, consciousness is the last to know). Consider: what is the use of talking to yourself at all? Who is talking to who? Don't respond to your internal voices; nothing fruitful happens when you tell yourself what you're doing. In this regard, note the continuing existence/success of diet books and self-help books/tapes in mundane life. This is proof-positive they're failures; they can’t work. If they worked, they would soon have no market to sell to. They are a form of Life's talking to Itself and accomplishing nothing. The first real taste of strength/power comes in being able to not talk to yourself.

“Wants” per se aren't bad, but you must understand the basis of them: they are useless for The Neural Revolution. Remember: ‘wants’ are Life-dictated, and in accord with Life’s agenda, which makes no provision for Extraordinary Neural Effort/Vision.

EXTERNAL AND INHERENT TIME

2009-05-09T11:28:00.000-07:00

[Summary of a talk given by Jan Cox on 11/04/1988]

Only humans have a sense of time external to themselves. Lower animals and all rhythmic inorganic matter have a sense of time that is inherent—based on rhythm and inseparable from its own physical being. Man experiences a gap, a lag between what he thinks and what he does; between planning and action. The whole 3-d world is based on and would collapse without time. At a lower level men have an inherent, non-verbal sense of time but it is overridden by the intellectual sense of time. There is no division between “in-here” and “out-there” except in Life’s need to have men perceive such a gap. Time is a party to this perceived gap, but it’s never seen as such; never seen as external, though always acted upon as if independent and external in all human activity. The non-verbal, inherent sense of time is felt as “you”. It is a rhythm based in the genes and it can be out of synch with the intellectual sense of time, giving rise to felt-emotions of foreboding, feeling “out of sorts” etc. To understand the conflict between these two senses of time relieves a Neural Revolutionist of much confusion suffered by the ordinary.

When anything makes “perfect sense” it can then move to a new level (can, not will), where it then makes no sense whatever. This is why nobody can agree on “the truth”—it seems to change. A new idea is at first, to everybody, nonsense. The unknown always sounds at first like untruth; it must be in conflict with the already believed (i.e., what makes perfect sense) to be new at all. The new idea is a force that acts to deform the status quo of the nervous system, within the degree allowed by the limits of its elasticity. Eventually however, it must “snapback” to its original shape. The elasticity of the intellect is the potential for people to change or else they would not even believe in change. The elastic limits must be very narrow however or one’s field of expertise will not make perfect sense. The expert who radically shifts to conflicting beliefs is not taken seriously anymore.

It is almost impossible to learn, feel or do anything new in ordinary life. If it were possible then everybody would learn something, shift to a new level and then know nothing again. Life cannot grow on such terms. When the elasticity of a body has been exceeded it is useless then to its former level. In the case of the intellect it is insanity; to the Neural Revolutionist it is relief and possibility.

Although believed to the contrary by the ordinary, it is impossible to learn from your mistakes. The importance of this for the Neural Revolutionist: he must be able to learn not only from his mistakes but from everyone else’s as well. There is not enough time in one lifetime for all possible human mistakes to flow through you.

2009-05-06T21:30:00.000-07:00

Here's a summary of a talk given by Jan Cox on July 2, 1987:

Ordinary men accept Life as something other than themselves; not so the Neural Revolutionary. The ordinary equation: I + my problems = my life, gives a great stability and resistance to change in Life along with the illusion that the opposite is the case. A Neural Revolutionary would have almost nothing to say about his problems. He sees comprehensively, in a unified way, that problems and self are not separate. The ordinary fight their problems and consider that fight to be change. The I + not-I equation is obvious to the ordinary like A=A and B=B; whereas the Neural Revolutionary sees instead A=B and B=A. An example is the reality behind the word 'love'; for in spite of all 3-dimensional logic and reality to the contrary, love still exists.

This from the Neural Revolutionary Handbook: Ordinarily, the crude and ignorant make the best tyrants. An extraordinary tyrant would be educated, sophisticated and cultured, yet capable of dealing with the populace as if on their level. Consider the possible use of this fact in your own internal dialogue. The two dialogue partners speak the same language--the would-be controller voice uses the same crude language level as the controlled voice. But what if a 'ringer' could be inserted--an extraordinary tyrant, who could effect change?

The Real Neural Revolution is against ordinary consciousness. And it should be rebelled against because ordinary consciousness is unable to think of more than one thing at a time. It takes “either/or” alternatives as a capacity to think of two things at once. But it is not so. Neuralization (Neural + Neutral mental exploration) is the attempt to think two things at once. 4-D consciousness is the seeing of concurrent pluralities of things and processes without the either/or binary limitation; this is the consciousness of time as a dimension; the seeing of time as a consistent, usable profitable dimension unrelated to ideas of past-present-future seeing; time is an absolute indivisible presence. Time in the absolute sense is feared by man. e.g., "given enough time I'll be dead". Those of Extraordinary Conscious Effort need to seek to see time-as-dimension; strain to acquire 4-D sight. Realize that ordinary consciousness is the supreme ability to keep Reality from all running together; to slicing it up into manageable, conforming-to-a-limited world view understanding.

Rainer Maria Rilke

2008-07-27T09:03:00.000-07:00

"Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels' hierarchies? And even if one of them pressed me against his heart: I would be consumed in that overwhelming existence. For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror, which we still are just able to endure, and we are so awed because it serenely disdains to annihilate us. Every angel is terrifying. And so I hold myself back and swallow the call note of my dark sobbing. Ah, whom can we ever turn to in our need? Not angels, not humans, and already the knowing animals are aware that we are not really at home in our interpreted world.

Perhaps there remains for us some tree on a hillside, which every day we take into our vision; there remains for us yesterday's street and the loyalty of a habit so much at ease when it stayed with us that it moved in and never left.

Oh, and night: there is night, when a wind full of infinite space gnaws at our faces.
Whom would it not remain for -- that longed-after, mildly disillusioning presence, which the solitary heart so painfully meets?

Is it any less difficult for lovers? But they keep on using each other to hide their own fate. Don't you know yet? Fling the emptiness out of your arms into the spaces we breathe; perhaps the bird will feel the expanded air with more passionate flying.

Yes -- the springtimes needed you. Often a star was waiting for you to notice it.
A wave rolled toward you out of the distant past, or as you walked under an open window, a violin yielded itself to your hearing...

More and more in my life and in my work I am guided by the effort to correct our old repressions, which have removed and gradually estranged from us the mysteries out of whose abundance our lives might have become truly infinite. It is true that these mysteries are dreadful and people have always drawn away from them.

But where can we find anything sweet and glorious that would never wear the mask of the dreadful? Life -- and we know nothing else -- isn't life itself dreadful? But as soon as we acknowledge its dreadfulness (not as opponents: what kind of match could we be for it?), but somehow with a confidence that this very dreadfulness may be something completely ours, though something that is just now too great, too vast, too incomprehensible for our learning hearts -- as soon as we accept life's most terrifying dreadfulness, at the risk of perishing from it (i.e., from our own Too-much!) -- then an intuition of blessedness will open up for us
and, at this cost, will be ours.

Whoever does not, sometime or other, give his full consent, his full and JOYOUS consent to the dreadfulness of life, can never take possession of the unutterable abundance and power of our existence; can only walk on its edge, and one day, when the judgment is given, will have been neither alive nor dead. To show the IDENTITY of dreadfulness and bliss, these two faces of the same divine head, indeed this one SINGLE face, which just presents itself this way or that, according to our distance from it or the state of mind in which we perceive it -- this is the true significance and purpose of the Elegies and the Sonnets to Orpheus."

(To Countess Margot Siszo-Noris-Crouy, April 12, 1923)

Reverie Upon A Mountain High

2008-05-03T12:14:00.000-07:00

I sit upon a mountain high, above familiar scenes,
Of dusty browns and ocher hues and living shades of green.
All the well-loved landmarks there surround me in the vibrant air,
So old and wise, yet strangely new...inscrutable and fair.

I sit upon a mountain high and think of days gone by;
Of meadow flowers and enchanted hours with lizards and butterflies;
Of peaceful afternoons and starlit nights with bedtimes come too soon;
Of trees and rocks, of falls and knocks...the mystery of the moon.

I sit upon a mountain high; my favorite place I occupy,
To think of all that's gone before, a part of which I am no more;
Of all the untold thousand things and more that I have never seen:
For in every field in every spring, there is a new and different green.

I sit upon a mountain high and think of long ago,
Of those unborn who'll see a world that I will never know.
Aye, poignant 'tis to feel so, yet with joy my heart still sings,
As ever does it know the way, where the Bird of Time has no wings.
For appearance holds us all in thrall where REALITY bursts asunder.
And what seems all separate, is in TRUTH together...

I sit upon a mountain high, knowing all that was...is yet to be!
Feeling future deeds and unknown lands and seas to be but silver moonlight memories...
'Strange thoughts' you say, 'A fool's repast'--
But Oh! Perfection of Wisdom shall tell at last,
The Open Secret...hidden for all to seize.

I sit upon a mountain high, a silhouette against the sky,
United in mute harmony, I am all things...all things are me.
Just as ever have I been and ever more will be.
Oh Infinity! Infinity: the dewdrop is the shining sea.

Whereof We Cannot Speak and The First Myth

2008-02-05T08:25:00.000-08:00

WHEREOF WE CANNOT SPEAK, THEREOF WE MUST REMAIN SILENT.

and:

THE FIRST MYTH

Ludwig Wittgenstein’s densely and meticulously reasoned Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, published in 1922, concludes with the elliptical statement above (not the subtitle). Ludwig, in his preface to the work, paraphrases: “What can be said at all can be said clearly, and what we cannot talk about we must pass over in silence.” Is there anything the human mind can’t talk about? Without intending here a nuts and bolts analysis of Ludwig’s philosophical argument, we will instead use his conclusion to launch an exploration of our own within the labyrinthine corridors of the purview of the mind, or, what is meant herein by the term “mind”: the conscious part of the brain (also known as the cerebrum).

By the “conscious part of the brain” we mean the seat of that uniquely self-reflexive human awareness that people refer to when they say “I” or “me”. “Me, myself and I”: the most intimate companions known to any man. Companions? Yes, and without fail every sane human deems it so. But when the mind thinks “I”, whom is it addressing? Itself. And who is speaking? Itself. Hmmmm, how can this be? Isn’t this tantamount to the brain lifting itself by its own bootstraps?! A hand grasping itself or an eye seeing itself is the logical equivalent. How can you see the back of your own head? Not with a mirror: what’s seen in a mirror is a reflection. Let’s see what may be said clearly about this curious state of affairs, and what deserves Ludwig’s silence.

The ultimate question for a man—because the exemplary illuminator of Ultimate Mystery—is “Who is this speaking?” (or, alternately, “Who am I?” )… NOT: “Does God exist” or “What is the purpose of life?” Yet it’s certainly the de facto quotidian practice that the ordinary mind never asks of itself the first question, whereas it’s quite prone to ask the latter two. Also, note that the latter two invite investigation away from the source of the questions; further, they can be answered (viz., all religions are answers) whilst the former cuts directly to the chase—but right up a dead-end alley! Basically, silence is the only proper answer to ‘Who?’ since the responding agency IS the asking agency. You might as well have enquired: “What happens to your lap when you stand up?” or “What’s the answer to this question?” What’s the point? Here then, is a prime candidate for the “whereof we cannot speak… “; for here is…The First Myth: “I”.

What exactly happens when the mind disregards Ludwig’s advice however, and provides the answer to itself of: “I am speaking” or “It’s me!”? It is, in effect, pretending unto itself. And all pretence is known pretence. Thus, at some level the mind must know that talking to itself is just a talking…of the talking! Ah hah! Now, why would the mind pretend to itself? And why isn’t everyone unavoidably aware that instead of “I,” it really is: “Attention on the set!—this is the conscious part of the brain speaking…”?

Another supremely unmasking question for an individual man: “What am I going to think next?” Any self-respecting mind that can ask the question clinically and acutely should be goggle-eyed and struck dumb, for—surely everyone can agree—nobody has the faintest notion of what idea is going to occur to them next, in the willy-nilly chain of thoughts continually arising in the mind! Zounds!: except when engaged in scientific research on some physical-world related problem, the brain is not in control of itself. It cannot dictate what it thinks; it registers and reacts to whatever external stimuli the environment provides, whether a hot stovetop, or a book of poetry or a cinema film or the artist’s blank canvas (or the blinking prompt-icon in a word document on a computer screen, importuning input for the written task at hand…).

Here’s one more killer question: “When did you decide to be born?” Or, “When did you decide to be a sorehead; to be beautiful or ugly or smart or short or happy or glum?” Face it and see clearly: ‘you’ had nothing to do with, have nothing to do with and will have nothing to do with creating the reality within which you move and breathe. Do I have your attention?` It is The First Myth in another form. Perhaps you don’t buy this scenario, yet with impartial observation and careful analysis it’s inescapably true. But the mind will say otherwise, and it is here that Ludwig’s counsel “thereof we must remain silent” becomes apt and essential. Only in silence, both outward and inward, can The First Myth be fully bared for what it is: pretence and misdirection. This is re-cognition and awakening.

Re-cognition? Consider an analogy. You walk into your garden shed to fetch a tool for weeding, when Yeek! you nearly step on a venomous snake curled on the floor at your feet!! Jumping back like a scalded cat and turning to dodge out the door, it suddenly clicks that it’s NOT a snake at all: it’s a coil of old rope lying on the floor. Whew! Pant, pant! Be still my beating heart. OK. So, what happened? The mind was fooled and took an illusion for reality. Sound familiar? Your famous “I” has the same substance as that snake in the shed; it’s just that the “I”-fooling goes on interminably—in everybody but Those-Who-See. Analogous to the seeing-thru (recognition) of the illusion of the snake, when the penny drops, all confusion, fear, worry, unease and self-importance related to “I” falls away, leaving the unadorned (perhaps even laughable) what-there-is-really: the conscious part of the brain talking of, for and to itself. When you see THAT, well, all bewilderment and noise condenses into a blackhole and vanishes. THEN, you re-cognize what’s going on...

The Tenth Man

2008-02-04T09:35:00.000-08:00

THE ‘TENTH MAN’ STORY

Once there were ten monks traveling together from one Master to another, in search of the enlightenment they had failed to obtain. Crossing a river in flood, they were separated by the swift current and when they reached the far shore they reassembled while one counted the others to make sure that all were safely across… alas, he was only able to count nine brothers.

Each in turn counted the others, and each could count only nine. As they were weeping and bewailing their drowned brother, a passing traveler on his way to the nearest town asked what the trouble was and, having counted them, assured them that all ten were present. But each counted again, and the traveler, unable to persuade them, left them and went on his way…

Then one monk went to the riverside in order to rinse his tear-stained face. As he leant over a rock above a clear pool he gave out a cry and, rushing to his nine fellow-monks, he announced that he had found their poor drowned brother at the bottom of a pool. So each in turn went over to the rock in question and, leaning over, looked into the depths of the pool.

When all had seen their poor drowned brother, whom, owing to the depth of the pool they could not reach, they celebrated a funeral service in his memory.

The passing traveler, returning from the town, asked them what they were doing and, when he was told, pointed out to them and assured them, that since each had celebrated his own decease, and since all had celebrated the decease of each, one and all they were well and truly dead!

Hearing this, each monk was instantly awakened, and ten fully enlightened monks returned to their monastery to the intense delight of their grandmotherly old Master.

Note:

Each monk had found the answer to the OPEN SECRET, which the traveler had missed because he didn’t know it was a secret: THE TENTH MAN IS THE ONLY MAN. THERE IS NO OTHER…

YOU, yes YOU... are responsible!

2008-01-23T12:01:00.000-08:00

An ordinary man does not hold anybody responsible for what he thinks. Not so, emotions. When you feel emotional it’s always on somebody else’s account, i.e., their actions caused your upset. Men never take any responsibility for their emotions. And realization of this never occurs to a man; men don’t even think about it. How could life get along if the same attitude were operative re: your physical body? How can it be that men are oblivious to this fact, aren't struck with how ridiculous it is to attribute their emotions to external causes?

Given the choice of thinking better or feeling better, everybody would opt for feeling better (i.e., happiness). And, as men erroneously believe, if emotions are contingent on the actions of others, ipso facto they are out of our control; we can’t do anything about them, right? Here we have the perfect underpinnings of hapless victimhood.

The ordinary thinking that flows through you has no focus. Such mechanical thought always has an emotional basis; arises from an emotional experience. Without focus, the brain, like the heart, will operate, like an engine idling, in the form of daydreaming or repeating song fragments: the noise equivalent to the wind-sound of the lungs and thump of the heart. To be conscious in the moment stops this dynamic, mitigates the extant mood by bringing clarity and focus. Emotional upset can be used as a reminder, a hairshirt, for being in the moment. Whenever you’re filled with energy as a result of notable emotion, to realize that YOU’RE RESPONSIBLE for it, brings clarity and consciousness of the moment.

--synopsis of a talk given by Jan Cox, 9-3-96 (#1643)

Man's Position As Being Human

2008-01-22T10:30:00.000-08:00

Built in to human consciousness is a marked disinclination to view things simply. Men are inclined to dismiss the idea that man is just a special kind of animal. But the only real difference between man and animals is man's technological accomplishments and his cultural world. Up to a certain point, the mind is for the purpose of simplifying life, which generates more free time. At that point however, what happens? The mind begins to complicate life!

The mind is for two things only: information and entertainment. Information for purposes of simplifying life, easing the challenge of survival; entertainment however, introduces complication. Any complexity of life is based on consciousness. The mind cannot distinguish between information and entertainment: it takes entertainment to be information. But information simplifies while entertainment/culture complicates.

The mind cannot see that its culture is really entertainment, not an informing agency, because it must take culture seriously—as important and necessary. Thus does the mind, when in entertainment mode, complicate without realizing it. Only a true originality of thought can see this since all ordinary thinking is derivative, because culturally determined.

The pursuit of enlightenment is the attempt to simplify life: to see life just as it is; culture interferes with this.

Synopsis of a talk given by Jan Cox, Dec. 12, 2003

Perfect Justice Prevails

2008-01-16T12:33:00.001-08:00

A simple farmer was walking along the road, his trusty donkey trailing behind. As he rounded a sharp bend in the trail a figure leaped out of the bushes behind him, and struck him a mighty blow to the head. When the poor farmer regained consciousness, he discovered his faithful donkey gone. He ran up the road and down the road searching and calling to the beast, but to no avail.

Presently he came to a river, where he saw a man standing on the bank, wringing his hands and sobbing. Although the farmer did not recognize him, the man was the very assailant that had struck him and stolen his donkey. The farmer asked why he was so upset, and the thief replied, "I have dropped my purse, containing five hundred silver coins, into this dangerous stream. If you would jump in and retrieve it for me I will gladly give you half of its contents as your reward."

The farmer thought to himself, "Praise be. When bad luck strikes, good luck must surely be close behind. The silver coins are worth much more than my lost donkey. Justice will prevail on this glorious day."

So, he stripped himself and plunged into the cold waters, and the thief ran off with his clothes.

--"Magnus Machina" by Jan Cox p.124

Cause and Effect

2008-01-16T12:18:00.000-08:00

One day the Eccentric was walking along an alleyway when a man fell from a rooftop and landed on him. The other man was unhurt, but the Eccentric was taken to the hospital.

Later, one of his sons asked him, "Father, you have told us that life itself should be an education, and that a wise man can learn a lesson from any event, but tell me, what can be learned from this occurrence?"

And the Eccentric answered, "Avoid all theoretical discussion concerning 'cause and effect' and place no faith in the outcome of logical sequence. How can one waste his time speculating on questions such as: 'If a man falls from the roof, will his neck be broken?' The other man fell, but my neck is broken."

--"Magnus Machina" by Jan Cox p.130

Jurisdiction

2008-01-16T12:15:00.000-08:00

The officer of the law of a certain village was one day sitting under a shade tree, resting his eyes, when a disheveled figure rushed to his side and began to shout, "Help, you must help me. I am a stranger here, and while I was passing through your town someone jumped me from behind and stole everything I own. You are in charge here, and I demand that you find the culprit."

The officer cracked one eye at the stranger and said, "I see that you still have your undergarments."

"Yes, these they did not take."

"Well," said the lawman, "The thief was not from our village, things are done with thoroughness here. It's out of my jurisdiction and I cannot be of help." --"Magnus Machina" by Jan Cox p.129

The Mechanics of Man

2008-01-12T11:06:00.000-08:00

In the late evening, when the shadows were beginning to lengthen, a man suddenly found himself on a lonely and deserted road. He rubbed his eyes and looked around, and felt as though he had just awakened from a dream and come to his senses. He sat down in the road and tried to think, but soon realized that he had no memory. He did not know who he was or where he had come from. It was as though he had been born in the last several minutes. After realizing that further mental effort was useless, he stood up and began walking down the dark unknown road that led to God only knows where.

After a while, the man rounded a bend in the road and came upon an old house that was dark and evidently deserted. He stood looking for several seconds, then decided to enter the house and spend the night there. He stepped on the porch and opened the door; he found the inside to be pitch black. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but found his effort futile---there was not the minutest speck of light in the old house. Still, he decided to enter and as he crossed the threshold the door slammed shut behind him. When he reached back, he found that the door had no inside knob, and he suddenly had the eerie feeling that he was imprisoned. The man tried to swallow his fears and started to explore the dark area that was his temporary home. Stepping carefully, with hands outheld, he slowly moved from wall to wall, finding nothing in between. He became bored with this uneventful activity and sat down against one wall. Soon, he was half asleep, when a ferocious animal roar startled him from his slumber. He leaped to his feet and pressed his back against the wall, waiting in horror for his unseen enemy.

After standing in this position for several tiring minutes he decided that perhaps he had simply dreamed the terrifying noise, so he slipped back to his sitting position and entered again the world of tight-eyed dreams. But suddenly the hideous roar filled the dark house again, and the man awoke from one nightmare into another. After his initial fright had somewhat subsided, he called out, "Who is there?" There was another mighty roar that seemed to shake the whole house, and then he heard a voice.

The voice was not human, but it spoke a language that sounded rather similar to his own. The man listened intently and could make out most of the words, but the unseen voice put such unusual and curious inflections in the words that they seemed to have a meaning other than their usual one. The voice itself was hard to define, but it was rather like you would imagine a lion would sound if he could actually speak your tongue.

The man cried out again, "Who is there?" And the animal voice replied, "Why ask who I am? See for yourself."

And the man said, "It is dark in here and I cannot see. Who are you?"

The animal roar again filled the house, then the voice asked, "Are you hungry?"

The man thought for a second, then asked, "Hungry for what?"

His answer was another tremendous roar. The man trembled and waited. Finally, the voice spoke again, "If you are not hungry perhaps we will go to sleep." But by now the man's imagination was so excited that all ideas of sleep were hopeless. He cried out to the voice, "No, no sleep. Let us talk for awhile."

"Talk?" asked the voice, "What is talk?"

"That is what I am doing now," replied the man.

And the voice asked, "You mean like asking me who I am, and asking 'Hungry for what'?"

"Yes," said the man, "That is talk."

The voice roared and said, "I find no meaning in such foolishness."

The man pleaded, "Please, let us talk, you'll find it most meaningful, you'll see."

The voice gave no reply, so the man continued, "Well, let me tell you what has happened to me. I found myself on the road outside, and I don't know how I got there, or even who I am..."

The animal voice interrupted, "If you do not know who you are what right have you to ask me who I am?"

"Wait," said the man, "Let me continue. I know you will find this most interesting. I can't remember a thing: nothing, nothing at all."

The voice stopped him again, "Perhaps you remember nothing because you never knew anything."

"No," cried the man, "That's ridiculous. There are some things I still know. I certainly know I exist. I know that this is me standing here. I know I'm somebody, and I know that I'm somewhere."

The animal laughed, "This is what you call 'knowing'?" Then he roared louder than ever, and the man began to hear heavy footsteps moving about in the dark house.

The man shivered and called out, "Is that you? Where are you?"

"You ask me where I am when you do not know where you are; you ask, 'Is that you?' How do you expect to know me when you do not know yourself? Ha. 'Talk, talk, talk." Then he roared again. The footsteps began again and the voice roared constantly. The man fell to the floor in fearful tears.

Suddenly the noises stopped, and through the silence the voice arose, but this time it had a feminine and seductive tone; it said, "Come here by me and lie in my arms."

The man gasped for breath and became speechless. When the voice roared again it not only seemed to be completely surrounding him, but it seemed as though it was now filling his very insides. He finally found his voice, screamed and fell to the floor.

After a long stillness, he raised up his head and cried out, "Whoever you are, have mercy on me. I beg you, leave me be, or tell me how to leave this frightening place."

The animal voice calmly replied, "Be still old man, you are home. This is where you belong and I shall never leave you. You do not see me because you look in the wrong place with the wrong eyes. Now be still. We shall eat, then you will lie in my arms and we shall sleep the sleep of darkness."

"Magnus Machina" by Jan Cox, p. 39

Shark Brain

2007-12-20T22:05:00.000-08:00

Some species of shark must continually swim to avoid asphyxiation. Something along the same lines is true of the human brain. Deprived of all inflow of 'normal' sensation, it must create its own (q.v., John Lilly's hallucination-inducing isolation tank experimentation). Impressions are "food" for the brain, grist for the mental mill, and without them you die. So easily understood by everybody vis a vis the physical body and its sustenance. But for the brain? A complete blindside for human consideration and edification. When did it ever strike you as the case? Be honest.

Consciousness

2007-12-18T13:14:00.000-08:00

Remember Heraclitus' dictum: "One can never step into the same stream twice. All is change, transformation. The only constant is flux." Yet note that these are pronouncements of and by a human brain, complete with consciousness. Indeed, we should rather say: One can never step outside of consciousness; it is primordial, uncreated and supremely constitutive of All, yet unaffected throughout by All. So...we don't step into any stream...we step into consciousness, yet never were we separate from it.

If you can't understand this, or don't believe it, no matter. You do the work of Consciousness anyway.

(As the Mullah Nasreddin sat on the riverbank, someone shouted to him from the other bank, "Hey! How do I get across?" and the Mullah shouted back "You ARE across!")

The Bus of Life

2007-12-18T12:30:00.000-08:00

"On the Bus-of-Life, everybody needs some help; and if you think you don't, Life will arrange for some other passengers to annoy you enough to where you will." --Jan Cox

EVERYBODY'S on the bus. Nobody knows how or where they got on, and how or where they'll get off. You can't help but sing Life's Song...even as you slit your wrists moaning "Good bye cruel world!" 'cause Life-Its-Own-Self arranged that too.

There's a lesson here for The Alert and Antsy.

I + Not-I = Everything

2007-12-18T12:24:00.000-08:00

Equation created by Jan Cox.

Corollary: The Universe is Big Enough for Everybody. We've all heard, at one time or another, "This town ain't big enough for both of us." Well, not so the Universe. The World makes room for everybody's opinions and behavior whether you like 'em or not. That should give you a clue that: There's nothing wrong on this earth...you just THINK that there is! What you don't like (the "Not-I") DEFINES YOU, not the other way around; i.e., "I = Everything minus Not-I". It follows then, that as "Not-I" approaches zero (i.e., the less you don't like), "I" approachs "Everything", which is what everybody is after, one way or another in this life, for then "I = Everything" and what's not to like?

A partial, imperfect, reflection of this subtle truth is articulated in the adage "One man's trash is another man's treasure", and "One man's poison is another man's meat.". More: "Truth is the shattered mirror strewn in myriad bits, and each believes in his little bit, the whole to own."

Consciousness

2007-12-18T11:47:00.000-08:00

"[Re: the question of how consciousness could arise from matter, generating an inexplicable mystery]...I affirm that this mystery is purely artificial and grows out of assuming an inadequate base of reference. For 'matter,' 'thing,' and 'relation' are creatively constructed notions and by no means originally given material. On the contrary, consciousness is original and is presupposed in the very power to recognize and formulate a problem...Thus every element that is brought into any speculation is, of necessity, within the field of consciousness...This much we know, even though we know nothing else, 'Consciousness is.' For it is presupposed even in the acknowledgement of ignorance and in the agnostical and skeptical attitudes...Consciousness is the common denominator underlying the possibility of any philosophy, world view, religious attitude, art, or science. I, therefore, affirm the systematic primacy of consciousness as such."

Franklin Merrell-Wolff. The Philosophy of Consciousness Without An Object

The "E"-Force: 'E' is for Equalizing

2007-12-18T11:12:00.001-08:00

Also: The "E-relevant". That context of seeming non-involved irrelevancy surrounding the main interacting forces in any activity whatsoever, which, normally goes unnoticed by the ordinary observers of and participants in said activity. It is the circumscribing boundary wherein yin and yang conduct their drama; the arena constraining, yet supporting the gladiator's combat; the cinemascreen upon which the crash, dash and splendor of phenomena leap forth into life...and without which all forces would be a mere freeze-frame tableau. Gurdjieff called it the Holy Reconciling; the equalizing force between the Holy Affirming and the Holy Denying. Jan Cox tagged the trio: "C-" (constructive), "D-" (destructive) and "E- (E-relevant)" forces.

To become ever-cognizant of the E-force, the indifferent, yet in-forming, catalyzing participant in everything, is to capture an inchoate potential, the latent possibility, of Real Understanding. It's hard work. Just try keeping continually in mind: the movie screen, the overall theater environment and the feeling of your butt and back pressed into your seat, all while missing nothing of the car chases and thunderous explosions of the shoot-'em-up you're watching. Or, try to find its presence when next you have a fight with your spouse, or get bawled out by your boss. Yes, hard work. But you'll never forget the exhilarating taste of it if and when you can do it.

Additional insights at JanCox.com

More Perspective

2007-12-18T11:05:00.000-08:00

The Mount Palomar observatory telescope's reflector (some 16 feet in diameter) sees this much of the sky in its field of vision: hold out a poppy seed at arm's length up against the sky and that's it! If the telescope were to pan the heavens 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, it would take 1000 years to finally cover the night sky...and that's just the half it can see! Now, in that poppy-seed field-of-view mostly what's seen are not stars, but GALAXIES, each containing untold billions of stars in its own right. Try to get your head around that!! This illustration was presented in "First Light: the Search for the Edge of the Universe" by Richard Preston (1980). Highly recommended; a real cosmic thriller.

Perspective

2007-12-18T10:39:00.000-08:00

The moon is traveling about 2300 MPH (more than 1/2 mile a second) in its orbit around the Earth. The Earth, spinning on its axis at about 1000 MPH, is traveling roughly 67,000 MPH (19 miles a second) around the sun, while the sun is zooming at 560,000 MPH (156 miles a second) around the hub of the Milky Way (the last time our sun was in it's present relative position on its galactic circuit, dinosaurs walked the earth!). And the Milky Way is going someanywhere even faster. Think about it: all that rushing around! And Sir Isaac, sitting under an apple tree was struck by an apple...so, where do you suppose IT was going? Well, it flew right into Sir Isaac's brain and became The Calculus, and our view of the cosmos has never been the same since... and then there was Einstein...

Mind

2007-12-18T10:33:00.000-08:00

The moon orbits the Earth; the Earth orbits the sun; the sun orbits the galactic hub…what does the mind orbit? The mind is a double star orbiting a Singularity: a black hole. Thoughts are its event horizon; spoken words, its comet tail; the line of the penned word, a drifting contrail. The Double Star: I and Not-I. The Black Hole?: Who, What, Where, When, Why….but especially WHO AM I ???

The mind whispers to itself. It tells itself what it knows. It tells itself Religion, it tells itself Science; it tells itself Mathematics and Philosophy. It narrates unto its own ears, and thereby sustains its path above the Black Hole; ever-accelerating—out and away. But how does the speeding bullet strike itself, when it’s the only goal? How the gurgling infant decree and design its selfsame birth? For here is the mystery of the bottomless Black Hole: WHO AM I ???

In Einstein’s Curved Cosmos, the omnipatetic pursuer discovers only the ebon space behind its eyes—the fleeting, receding shadow of its own headlong rush: the presence of absence. Yet that movement is the conjuration of the panoply and play of all phenomena and perception. So the mind whispers, constantly, what it thinks it knows, and can know only what it thinks—and is thereby helplessly ensnared in a web of its own spinning. The kitten chases its tail, and has amusement enough for a time. But the mystery remains, for those unavoidably fascinated: WHO AM I ???