Category Archives: Thought

Thought is a Tool

Thought is a tool for solving rational problems. When thought is of no use, I turn off the mind. Tools are best kept in their chest.
I hammer a loose nail, but I do not swing the hammer in my other affairs. Hammers fix nails and damage all else.
I have a flashlight, but I keep it off while sun is shining. A bulb left on all day is useless by nightfall.
I may speak, but what good is a mouth that won’t shut up? Moments of speech get their value from hours of silence.
Thought is the mouth of the mind. Teach it to keep quiet until it has something to say.

When practice makes perfect, it translates idea to instinct, mind to muscle, thought to no-thought.
All skills* operate on muscle memory.
Muscle memory is beyond the grasp of conscious thought.
Even once learned, action falls apart when THOUGHT about. Why?

The BODY is a ship, steered by the SELF (subconscious center). The EGO (conscious thought) is the cabin boy, who thinks he could be a better captain. He takes the wheel from the self, but hasn’t the strength to steer, nor the ability to juggle so many duties, and the ship goes off-course. The cabin boy must either give the wheel back to the rightful captain or risk a dangerous crash.

————–
See also: The Sorcerer’s Apprentice!

* Skills in the real-time world of three or four dimensions, excepting skills on computers or within one’s own mind.

Our Fish Father (an evolutionary sonnet)

i’ve just been struck, astounded, by the thought
Of evolution in a lit’ral sense:
“Family with all the world” is not
Pretentious abstract poetic license
But truly, that the fam’ly tree is one
Our fathers’ mothers’ father was a fish
His cousins grew as trees beneath a Sun,
Who is our uncle — sounds so childish!
How can i make it clearer, say it plain?
Our parents’ parents — worms and stones and stars!
On absolutely ev’ry atom’s chain,
The first link is the very same as ours
    Literally, children of one cell —
    The tersest truth is trickiest to tell!

Linguistics thought #6

W , what a weird letter
Double – U ?
First, no, those are V’s.
Second, it’s a mouthful.
From now on, the letter W is simply pronounced “dub”.
Web addresses start “triple-dub dot whatever…”
Unless you feel like saying “sextuple-U”
(which is still shorter than what we say now)

Or rather, “we” or “wo”. Like, whoa.

Anyway, I’m on a bus to Rosendale NY for tonite’s show, I love that little town…

goldendian’s return

Some of you know I enjoy old coins,
And one contemporary american too
The Sacagawea 2000 gold dollar
I put $20 bills in vending machines
Just so I can collect them in change
And carry them in a drawstring pouch
In order to slam a goldpiece on the bar.

Some of you know I detest the later
“Presidential commemoratives” that
replaced Sacagawea a few years ago
We have but one bit of currency
Without a white male on it,
All those coins of silver
We had one of gold
Displaying a Native Woman!
(Lincoln has copper, yes,
Because he was, y’know,
“Different”… like Dolly Parton)
And suddenly replacing her with losers
Like W.H. Harrison? W.H.o Cares, son?

Well I’d like to let some of you know,
That I’m south of san francisco
Holding change from my train ticket,
Shiny new 2010 gold, not only with
Sacagawea and “Liberty” on the face,
But a back of bundled arrows,
“Haudenosaunee,” the true name
Of those the white calld “Iroquois,”
And their “Great Law of Peace.”

Maybe I’m too quick to be pleased,
You know I’m not so easily appeased,
But I’ll spot the little signs of good,
Where I can!
As what’s misunderstood,
We come to understand!

vent your anti-veg

I wanna hear all yer best arguments against vegans/vegetarians! whether yer a meat-lover wantin to put a checkmate on animal rights or a lifelong vegan wantin to share some of the crazy accusations you’ve had thrown at you… whether you’re earnestly angry or just playin devil’s advocate…
whatever your doubts, queries or crackpot theories, leave a comment below or mail em to johnhoux [at] gmail [dot] com !

On another note, SXSW in austin texas was a blast, an exhausting blast, and I’m now riding back west with my friends Man/Miracle… All my best

Johnny hoo

invention #47 – hangover hospital

Success comes from good ideas well executed. Some folks have many ideas, some need one.
Here’s one for some entrepreneur out there:

a brunch restaurant calld the Hangover Hospital, with not just delivery service but SHUTTLE service. Door-to-door coach! Pick you up at home, deliver you to the table, nurse you back to life and drop you back off. Maybe a little nap station too. A menu of specially-crafted dishes and drinks to revitalize, not just fill you up. I dunno, I’d go there drunk or not…

The Free Instincts of Love

Victorians and nobles and many traditionalists of the past lookd down on wedding for Love, and despite what we like to think, this restrictive way of thinking persists. Their position was (and is) that the purpose of marriage was to ensure the future of the line by smart pairing – a strong provider with a healthy mother. People in love are irrational, and to wed for love supposedly threatens the security of those sound investments and plans, by sacrificing good judgment for silly affections and urges.

But what if erotic love is there for the same purpose as the wedding arrangers? What if it’s better: intuitive planning rather than rational? Arrangement via the subconscious. The notion that consciousness extends down to the molecular level may imply that our genes are doing the arranging for us.

Maybe to really fall in love is sparkd by our DNA knowing what’s best for it. The American Indian practice of “marrying across the circle” – that is, marry someone from the tepees on the side across from you, rather than from the ones on your side, which are your relatives. Classic examples of arranged marriages include the British Royals and Dalmation dogs, pinnacles of inbreeding. Your subconscious may know more about a good genetic match, receiving information from your DNA and responding to certain physical features or pheromones indicative of someone who will help you produce healthy offspring and avoid inbreeding and hidden health defects. Your subconscious can see who is across your circle.

Of course, who knows for sure the diffrence between true love and simple lust? And even love, couldn’t it be a matter of “take what you can get?” Couldn’t there be some still-better match for you out there, but someone you could never get to, say, a movie star? Our genes set their sights high, but our brains say “know when to fold em,” and settle for the best that’s readily available.

The old bards who sang of romance crossing class barriers and economic lines were revolutionaries, praising erotic love above social duties. These “undesirables” – wanderers of no high rank, but followers of noble truths like Joy and Unity – these were the original heartthrobs, kicking up love’s dust.
Even today, musicians and artists are objects of desire, love idols. Is it because human genes see them as a true match, even if everyone else sees them as their own match as well? Can a true love belong to more than one? (This is not to condone the cliche behavior of musicians with illegitimate children dotting the map.)

Perhaps these questioning, yearning, FEELING folks bear the genes of a higher mind and truer heart, and these are qualities our species values for the future above Social Rank, stores of gold, plots of land, etc. Compassion, intuition, insight, patience, gentleness, joy, LOVE: THESE are things our DNA responds to, and wants to pass on to our children.

The new discovery that our genome, within each of us, changes every day suggests that the more one cultivates these ideals in oneself, the more present they are to be genetically hardwired. These are values that push our evolution forward to something more noble. If mankind has, or will create, a purpose to its existence, it will rise from these qualities – cultivated not by careful and conscious hoeing and rowing, but by the wild-sown Free Instincts of Love.

Dream, Wish, Destiny

[Dream notebook, 2009 October 20]

No wonder dreams can seem to predict one’s destiny. If dreams are wishes fulfilld [as Froyd says], and one’s natural life-path would have them pursue all one’s wishes…

Dreams make visible, but maybe not plain. Our inmost desires and wishes may be unconscious, unknown to us, or maybe we are confused by sevral options and know not which to choose.

Dreams reveal our choice, the choice that will be, the choice already made – our heart’s true desire. And since the heart’s true desire is one’s true path, the dream heeded will bring a great destiny. For one who doesn’t know that the dream came from within themselves, their desire, it may indeed seem an illumination,
A revelation from the gods,
An announcement of fate,
A clue, a riddle pointing to the path.

Which it is.

That’s why we have that double-meaning of “Dream” – the nite-vision dream and the dream of one’s life, like “what’s your dream?” Your dream in life is your ultimate wish if there were no limits. If you were all your potential what would you be doing? Your little nite-dreams try to point you to this, so that you may act on it. Finally, the meaning of the phrase,

“Dream is Destiny.”

The value of dreams, the magic, is not diminishd by reduction to mere “wish-fulfilment.” Their value is precisely in that Dreams REVEAL to us our wish – that is,
our purest, ultimate self,
and thus,
our purpose.

Thrown-Out Couscous Blues

if there’s evil in this world,
It is the throwing away of perfectly good food
In Houston, we had dinner which was great n I also got a PB+J to save n eat later. I coverd the plate with a napkin, playd a set, and when I came off my food was gone. They threw an UNTOUCHD sandwich in the trash.
Las nite the caterers made amazing couscous w curry veggies and I had three servings thru the nite. As it got late I went back for more and it was all filling the garbage.
I’m not upset that I didn’t get t eat, I’m sad that we’re wasteful. Ridiculously wasteful. Those woulda been the best leftovers ever, for two or three days! But we have one go at a dish and as soon as it cools down we just flush it…
I don’t mean to make a point but dammit I’m hungry now, and thinkin that this country is throwin so much of its energy and productivity right out makes me sick. Not to mention when meat is thrown away, someone died for nothing.
Food!

Barefoot + Loving It

I was right t do without the winter clothes
They take up too much room and suffocate my skin
The rare moment when long underwear
(Or even short)
Would bring me needed warmth
Is far outnumbered by the times
They’d have me dying of discomfort!

Even in chicago
The wool socks, irish fisherman’s sweater
And boots were a bit much
Now I’m heading south
And later I’ll go west
These things are more baggage than they’re worth
Should I mail them?
Too special to desert
May need em sometime
If only I never acquired em!

In madison I went out with no shoes
They said I was crazy
I said I was fine
They say there’s a woman there
Who never wears shoes
And sweeps the snow before her
She says her feet are warmer
And I agree, to an extent
The times boots are warmer,
They are too warm

Then I saw her
I was walking to mother fool’s
Willy street
And in an alley, for a brief second
A wacko saint
Sitting like on a smoke break from work

Julia Hill grew extra foot muscles
From climbing the redwoods
Barefoot and loving it

I could use the extra room
The contents of my bag:
“Shaving” kit (toothbrush soap etc)
One shirt (other shirt being worn)
Pair of jeans (other pair being worn)
Pair cotton socks
Roll of posters
15 songbooks
40-50 CDs
2 pair underwear (wasted space, never worn)
Pair hemp slippers
Envelopes + stamps
Paperbacks (currently nietzsche + hill)
Phone charger
First aid kit
and,rolled up between the handles,
Big irish sweater

On my person is the shirt and jeans, wool socks, boots, army jacket, scarf.

I could lose the boots, socks, underwear and sweater and be a happy fella. Also I’d be happy to sell off all the CDs and songbooks.

- j clinton houx

I think the bad mother is a kidnapper