If you can run, you can walk. If you can walk, you can crawl. If you can crawl, you can lay down and die. Yet you are alive. Can you explain the mystery of life? Not even Stephen Hawking can. Can you? We ask again.
People fear showing themselves in public without clothes. But why? Can you imagine if horses did the same thing? Horses with clothes... the hooved folly.
Most of what we think of as information is merely noise. Random signals, differentiated from the background only by meaningless fluctuations. What if one of those signals—randomly—sounded like sex noises? Scientists say it is possible.
One day an oafish bug set foot upon a fragile leaf. Being clumsy, he fell. The next day, a gluttonous bug set foot upon the same leaf. Being portly, he fell. Turns out there was a bird overhead the whole time who wanted to eat bugs, but couldn't, cause they fell off the leaves. Do you like that story Y/N.
Life is not static. We often have enemies; years later, we are sitting next to those former enemies, laughing in friendship. That probably won't happen with the enemies you have now, though. They never forgive.
A door has a handle. A handle has a grip. A grip is the name of somebody who does something making movies. There was a movie called "The Doors." Think about this, as a crafty squirrel picks your pocket.
"Zen." Roll the world over in your mouth. "Zzzzennnn." Do you taste it? I can, but I spent years practicing that. Years. Don't expect to get there on the first day.
When a man becomes old, he often becomes pensive as well. He spends long days thinking back on his past. Back, back, back, back, back, back. Back, back, back, back, back, back, back, back, back, back, back.
Imagine your younger self. Your previous consciousness. Occupy your own younger mind. What does it desire? More to the point, what does it need? Does it need candy? Yep.
Often is it said, "It's what's on the inside that counts." When I hear those words, I laugh and laugh, and laugh and laugh. What is this, amateur hour?
A man who runs around town talking about "Zen" is considered to be wise. But a man who runs around town talking about "Zip" is considered to be a zipper salesman, or perhaps a mathematician. Or perhaps a foreigner. If asked to write an essay on this topic, what would you say?
A simple piece of tape: one side smooth to the touch, the other sticky. It binds for us, but it does not bind us. How does the sticky side taste? The man who knows is forever silent.
Consider a salad. It is made up of many ingredients. Yet we give then all one name: "salad." It's kind of funny.
If a toad sits in the sun, why does he do it? "To be warm," you might say. But have you asked the toad? It's possible that you have, but not probable.
An ant is not the size of a man. Yet can a man with no eyes build a maze? A man is not the size of an ant. Yet can an ant build, for example, an automobile factory, or a yurt? I read these things in a book.
Imagine two men. Both have swords. As you're imagining that, your cat walks into the room. Your cat is carrying a sword in its teeth. "Where did you get that, kitty?" you ask. Will your cat ever respect you again?
The concept of "wisdom" is often thought of something that straddles the corporeal-ethereal border, a sort of empyrean package that we "carry" in our minds. Those who truly possess wisdom, though, will tell you that it's more like a horse.
Come closer. Closer now. Look into my eyes. Look very deeply. In the very depths of their blackness, you will see: a tiny monkey. How was that? Did that sound zen? Cause I can tweak it however you guys want it.
Imagine a bullfrog, sitting on a rock. Can you picture it? Now ask yourself: where is the bullfrog? Is he on the rock? Or is he in your mind? Gurl U no U must make out with the man that ask U this.
Sochi, or "so-chi," is not just the site of the Olympic games—it's also an expression in the tradition of Zen, meaning "so (much) chi (or qi)." I write the preceding sentence on a piece of paper, then eat it, while shouting "Worldstar!" Was it ever true?
