bodhi-fucking-sattva

let's get a lil buddhist action goin' on here, shall we? i mean, the buddhists are just as crazy as the christians and muslims and jews (perhaps even more crazy considering their very detailed 'other' worlds)... it's just, they're polite enough to not shout that crazy in the public's face. they leave everyone alone.

which is awesome.

but i wanna talk about bodhisattvas... and the only one worth my time is this lil gem from my youth by the one and only steely dan:

HOLLA!

My affair with siddhartha

i read herman hesse's siddhartha the summer after 8th grade... right after discovering that reading could actually be an enjoyable experience. i had finished kafka's metamorphosis earlier in the year, and, having loved every second of it (i've probably read that novella over a hundred times now), a teacher mentioned i might like hesse's take on spirituality.

so i gave it a read.

and i loved it.

there are many reasons why, but first and foremost, it was different. it promoted oneness with the universe -- this big, giant, intangibly tangible thing that i couldn't even begin to wrap my thoughts around -- and it taught the virtues of simplicity, of being "good". being alive.

those are virtues that i hold onto today. i've mentioned it several times, but there is no need for an invisible sky daddy (no matter what name one might assign him, or her, or them) to embody this philosophy.

all one needs to do is be aware. be aware of his surroundings. listen. follow the golden rule.

it really is that simple. no need for blowing people up 'cuz they don't agree with you. no need in forcing one's highfalutin beliefs on others by sanctions or force.

no need to stick one's nose into my business.

i treat others the way i want to be treated. is it really too much to ask others to do the same?

(image via skull swap)

One minute and twenty-four seconds of pure terror

nothing makes my skin crawl more than watching children parade the highfalutin and inexcusable, delusional, ass-backwards claims of their so-called elders.

children don't get a choice. they do as they see, as they're told. they're vulnerable. when it comes to force-feeding religion, i think if you really loved your children you would allow them to make their own spiritual and/or philosophical choices. pumping them up full of vitriolic bullshit then pushing them out the door is not only a disservice to them as floundering youths, but also a HUGE FUCKING HIT ON HUMANITY AS A WHOLE.

WE DON'T FUCKING NEED FAIRY TALES TO EXPLAIN SHIT ANYMORE. SO CUT THAT SHIT OUT.

If ya wanna pick a hero to worship...

... don't pick pansy ass jesus.

don't pick staunch and stubborn mohammed.

forget that trippy hippy buddha.

follow han fucking solo.

now THAT'S a fucking hero.

Sadness has gotta go?

i'm pretty sure the idea of 'sadness' exists in the minds of other animals too, but the point i wanna make about it is that, for so long i've subscribed to the idea that it's gotta go.

right? wouldn't life be so much better without sadness? i don't like being sad. no one likes being sad.

so... how do we fucking beat that shit?

i've gone through points in my life where i could definitely cover it up. where i could mask it with toughness. with substance. with fists and fury where i could grit it out.

but sometimes ya just gotta let it in, so it can get the fuck out.

i think buddhism is just as nuts as the rest of the religions, but i do believe one of the buddha's mantras to be very helpful: life is suffering. without suffering, we can not know what is good.

shit happens. it's gonna hurt. feel it and move the fuck on.

oh...

and give me your money.

if you want ;-)

(image via smbc)

Avoid the tailspin

i think about my grandma. every single day.

she's been dead for six years now; and not one fucking day goes by where i don't think about her. not one.

she was my biggest fan. my strongest supporter. my best friend.

and when she died, i was so hurt -- so damaged by the loss -- that i went into a self-destructive tailspin that stole away two and half fucking years of my life.

two and a half fucking entire years.

forgiving myself took almost as long.

i used to sit there, wasting away...

no one ever taught me about loss. no one prepared me for it.

for people who aren't ready, that shit can do some real damage real quick.

i can see how people find comfort in jesus and buddha and the whole gang. if you think your dead grandma is at a party in the sky with muhammad and jeebus, i can see how handling the death might be easier.

but i -- we -- know better. we know that all we can prove is that when you die, you're fucking dead -- erased from this existence. forever. for good.

done.

once something you hold close is lost, that something is fucking gone.

and you better handle your shit.