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My Body is Only a Notion
If you are interested in purchasing T-Shirts, tank tops with the My Body is Only a Notion image, contact me.

It’s made of 100% cotton and is pre-shrunk.

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Your body is more than a notion, you say? Well, okay, I have no problem with that. You’ll die and I won’t, but my having a problem with your choice there would translate to, and, ultimately divulge my own belief, suppressed unawares, in the reality of my body. Then I’d be a goner too!

Not dying is a little perk I can live with. Another is, since I’m only pretending I’m an individual in a body anyway, it doesn’t really matter whether or not I pretend I’m John Beavin. I’m saying there may be wiser choices, e.g. in the Cyrus family, Miley and BillyRay pretending they are daughter/father. Nothing new there; long before them, there were Nat King Cole and Natalie, and father/son imposters, Woody and Arlo, etc.

These three examples of profound, prolific, performing progeny perpetuate palpable pretension—primarily. Graciously granting that all three are immensely talented in their own right, name recognition is the obvious genetic advantage. Seldom considered, however, is the inequitable leverage of the universal covert contract between all parents and children, namely: In exchange for the child’s arrogant, belittling thinking, “Hey, if my old man can do it, like, I sure can!” the parent dutifully agrees to encourage the child at all costs.

My own arrogance dwarfed humorous, juvenile norm, though! I could/would make it onmy own, stubbornly refused to take unfair advantage of my “nameless” competition, and even changed my name to John Beavin — from — Joli Presley, son of Elvis.  Daddy named me after Jolie Blonde, about whom he sang in his hit song, Jailhouse Rock, (little Jolie Blonde on the slide trombone).

My now-great humility obliges me to join with the rest of the world in proclaiming “Long Live the King!” And the King does live because—you got it—his body was only a notion…