Monday, March 31, 2008

Third Way

I keep wondering why medical care has to be an “industry”. Half of us argue that government would make a huge hash of administering health while the rest maintain that the medicine business-as-usual (take it in the rear, where your wallet is) will bankrupt the nation. What about a Third Way?

In her book
Systems of Survival, Jane Jacobs described two modes of organization in human culture. She divided moral perceptions into two categories—hunters and traders, Big Government and Big Business. The first she called the “Guardian Moral Syndrome” and it contained 15 precepts, like “Shun Trading,” “Adhere to Tradition” and “Obedience above Honesty.” This system arose primarily to satisfy the needs of organizing and managing territories. It became the way for warriors, governments, and religions. The second was the Commercial Moral Syndrome and also has of 15 principles like, “Shun Force,” “Compete” and “Respect Contracts.” This came into being to support human activities concerning trade and the production of goods. She did not overtly condemn the principles of either, maintaining that both were necessary in the modern world.
“Like the other animals, we find and pick up what we can use, and appropriate territories. But unlike the other animals, we also trade and produce for trade. Because we possess these two radically ways of dealing with our needs, we also have two radically different systems of morals and values – both systems valid and necessary.”
According to Jacobs severe problems and conflicts occur mainly when the precepts appropriate to one syndrome are applied to the other, for instance Guardian principles like loyalty and honor mixed with Commerce principles like competitiveness and trading for profit resulting in the Mafia.

Ben Franklin used an almost identical analysis in the quote I offered on March 1st:
“There seem to be but three ways for a nation to acquire wealth. The first is by War as the Romans did, in plundering their conquered neighbors. The second by Commerce which is generally cheating. The third by Agriculture, the only honest way. “
Franklin instinctively opted for a suite of morals distinct from the two which he considered dominant. He saw a third way and as an 18th century American it was natural for him to see this as characterized by Agriculture. In the utopian views of Jefferson, Franklin, and others America should be founded on the strength of the small, the yeoman farmer owning his fields, the local militia which dissolved itself after the conflict, “no foreign entanglements” (Geo. Washington’s farewell address). On one hand, Commerce (though not corporations, yet) had reared its ugly head, on the other, the “Way of Rome” as personified by British Imperialism, was universally condemned. (The military was not at all glorified after the Revolutionary War—Washington and some other generals in order to salve their self respect had to form a semi-secret organization, The Society of the Cinncinnati). The dangers described by Jane Jacobs of combining the morals of the two modes were not in evidence in Franklin’s time. As far as health care becoming a business prospect, in those days it would have been impossible to conceive of health as connected with commerce. The few pitiful remedies doctors had, although paid for, were offered more in a spirit of caring and ministry to the sick (after all, if you were seriously ill at that time you usually died).

Aren’t most of us involved in trying to find a Third Way? We instinctively cleave to candidates offering “change”, we feel reflexive horror at the grasping practices of mega-corporations who, to use just one example, try to monopolize pure water supplies in the developing world, we shake our heads in disgust at governmental attempts to enforce national unity-think whether it be the Patriot Act, Israel bulldozing houses, or Putin’s thugs murdering journalists.

A recent conversation brought up the case of our close friend who is undergoing chemotherapy for cancer. Each time they give her the poison they must remove white blood cells to save and re-inject later. There is a evidently a high-tech machine to extract the white cells from the blood. Each time they do this for her, the bill sent to the insurance company (the request for wealth transfer from one conglomerate to another using the patient as an excuse) is $5000. I am sure that the non-profit hospital has a staff of accountants hard at work determining the costs of each and every Q-tip and these consummate calculators have figured out that this machine, probably costing several million dollars, has a lifetime of X years, divided by N number of patients per year and therefore each time it is used it “costs” $5000. No profit is involved in their calculation--that would be contrary to their mission statement. But everyone agrees, for some reason, on their right, even their duty, to balance their books.

What if the books were balanced by a “third way”? What if the cost of the machine was offset by the lives it would save? If a human life is worth an infinite amount, the pro-rated cost of the machine cannot affect the amount charged to the “consumer”. Nothing would be consumed; the machine would then be priceless and the hospital would be feel free to charge a more reasonable amount, or nothing, per use. I am not going to try to develop this train of thought any further now. I will finish by saying that I see a huge conflict, maybe a Jacobean one, in the sight of non-profit hospitals owned and run by religious organizations being managed by bean-counters who must balance their bottom line with dollars, not lives.

Sunday, March 30, 2008

Hating from the guts

I ruffled a few feathers yesterday with my reference to Ted Kaczynski. That name seems to provoke a visceral reaction in some people and it was thought that I was holding him up as a model. Here are some more names—see if your emotions jump: Osama B. Laden, Adolph Hitler, Joe Stalin, Judas. If you get a negative gut reaction, look at it--what causes your stomach to twist? Did any of these people actually harm you in a personal tangible way? For most of us, no. They did harm many people and allowed many evil things to happen, but you as an individual karmic phenomenon know only what the culture has told you about them. We as a species love to create demons and scapegoats. When your stomach jumps in anger or fear at the mention of a name, are you merely signing on to the hue and cry, the shriek of indignation that apes send up as they follow an interloper across the plain in hot pursuit?

I try not to automatically judge a person to be evil just because our cultural movers and shakers have decided it is so. (When you really look at many of the so-called villains in history, all a lot of them did was damage the property or interests of the controlling class of society.) I am not going to be an apologist for Hitler or Ted Kaczinski or Thutmose II. What I am saying is that the past has passed and the bad that these Villains have done will work itself out of the system eventually. We do not know all the complexities of their karma or that of their victims. Demonify them if you must, but I feel it is not our place to judge--that is beyond any of our pay grades. I guess the way I would like to feel about the really ogre-like humans who have lived throughout history is to think of them as tragic expressions of some really bad karmic issues we humans have in our societies. We can never know how Hitler felt about himself deep down in his little-boy heart. Maybe rather than an evil monster, he was simply an all-too-human lightening rod for the evil that swirls about all humanity and needs to gain concrete expression in order for us to recognize it and fight it.

Here are some reasons I brought Ted K. into yesterday’s thoughts:

1) I feel he is a stereotypical Outsider, a crazy man in the wilderness, a wild-eyed sociopath in exactly the same vein as Jeremiah, Thoreau, and Johnny Appleseed. Some of these guys have been good, others not-so. I make no judgment on Ted's methods or his madness, only that he was outside the loop.

2) My system of believe does not admit the possibility that any human being could be all bad. The bad is always mixed with the good in unforeseen, inexplicable ways.

3) I have not read much of the Unabomber’s writings. All I could say for sure is that he was certainly not a very concise writer and had difficulty coming to the point. But he DID try to express his feelings and thoughts and I therefore feel some kinship. My thoughts are probably no more sane.

4) The world must have people like him to throw our smugness back into our faces and keep us re-thinking what we are really doing here. I was not yesterday serving him up as a role model, I was saying that we will always need people who refuse to follow, even if they are violent. Who has killed more people, Ted K. or George Bush?

5) At the end, I introduced what seemed like a contradiction to some in suggesting we FOLLOW the crowd and turn off our electricity at 8 PM. I do not feel following per se is bad; I feel that what is dysfunctional is blind adherence to popular leaders and fads; the unthinking going with the flow that most of us do will not take us to where we need to go to survive on this planet. To put it at its simplest: we must outgrow our tribal groupthink and live as if we were members of a vast community which includes ALL living things. Politicians, leaders, charismatic shouters are like nasty older siblings who are trying to get you on their side in a family argument. They use your visceral ape-tribe emotions to control you. Don’t go there. Question EVERYTHING.

Saturday, March 29, 2008

Shred your flags and knit dishrags from them.

Have you ever wondered why there are certain people that this society elevates to positions of status, power, and wealth? Leave aside any ideas you may have about karma, luck, etc. and just focus on social psychology/economics. What is going on when fools such as George Bush and Donald Trump are able to rise to such positions? It certainly isn’t because they are such consummate manipulators of crowd psychology. We ourselves gave them this power, we must be somehow wanting such people in the limelight. We love loud show-offs—they make us laugh. It feels good to laugh in a group, just as it feels good to roar with anger in a group. We are really no different than a group of chimpanzees where the dominant males and females rule their tribe with the judicious use of food gifts and sexual favors. But we are dangerous chimpanzees—we exist in huge numbers and form huge groups. A chimp can always wander off into the forest if he doesn’t get along—but we have cut off all the forests and we arrest forest-squatters. We react strongly when the Tribe is threatened from outside, but we are leery of ideas to which none of our elevated leaders have signed on. Very few of us are confident enough to not only think for ourselves, but to act on it. We should treat Ted Kaczynski as a prophet, crazy yes, but possessed of something few of us have--the ability to function as an outsider. (I definitely don’t condone his killing those letter openers—I would have used paint bombs.) Why do we feel such a deep need to be on the winning side, to rally behind the team, to wave flags and cheer so loud when Bret Favre completes a pass, what explains the delirium at political conventions? Why were there millions of flags sold in September 2001, more millions of those stupid car magnets sold in 2003, and no mention of Earth Hour in today’s paper? We obviously have an extremely strong group need to raise certain of us to such positions and then rally behind them, content to no longer really think about where we are going, abrogating our true task and duty to keep searching for truth and growing in ourselves.


In several of her many books, Ursula K. LeGuin imagined a future society of truly democratic pastoral communities, living in touch with the land, all issues of gender equality long since worked out, where small was beautiful and there was no longer a possibility of any person or group exercising raw power over any other. I think many of us have this sort of world in the backs of our minds when we imagine what it is going to take to save humanity. There is a world-wide movement afoot of Intentional Communities which is attempting to re-define the way humans live in hopes of coming to terms with some of our inherited traits which have become dysfunctional in the modern crowded world. Some people are starting to grapple with the problem that, if we want to continue to live on this planet, it is no longer possible for humanity to exist in this crowd culture which elevates “leaders” on the basis of what is really just sublimated sexual attraction.

But, given who we are, a lineage of apes crazily over-evolved to take advantage of resources and control them for the benefit of our group, would humans ever be able to become something new? I really wonder if it is possible to overcome hard-wired genetic behaviors and create a new society. Certainly if survival depended on it, we would evolve. . .or are we so dysfunctional we will just extinct ourselves? The knowledge that humanity is not well served by traditional power roles and crowd/tribal, them-against-us modes of behavior is not new. The monastic movement started by St. Benedict in about 530 AD was a response to perceived abuses of power in the church and community. Benedict never intended to start a world-wide Benedictine Order, but that’s what happened. He had something in mind more like Ursula K. LeGuin’s world, but human social psyche is hard to change. Methods of rising to positions of power
soon arose in the monastic groups, just as in almost all human groups. And the abuse or non-abuse of such power became dependent only on the personality of the power-holder and was therefore open to tragic cases of abuse if the wrong power-seeker surmounted the structure, just as in all human groups. I lived for a time in an intentional community in Japan in the 70’s (though we had never heard that term—we called it a commune.) After less than one year it dissolved into bickering about who was in charge and how money resources were being allocated. We were not evolved enough yet to live with our bodies what we had in our heads imagined possible. Are any of us, yet?

We have a lot of work to do. It’s getting really late. Turn off your lights tonight at 8 PM.




Thursday, March 27, 2008

Not a good idea . . .

Normally I try not to get too upset by what the media brings me, figuring that most of the fuss, as all human endeavor, will soon blow over and that in the end it makes little difference anyway how some people in Florida vote. Eventually we all turn to compost and the talk and the issues and the hubristic granfalloons of humankind will not matter at all. But I read something yesterday that REALLY bothered me. In a recent Time magazine there was a list of 10 “Ideas That Are Changing the World” or some damn thing (Time has a second-grader’s fascination with counting things). One of the ideas “slowly emerging as an option . . .” is supposedly “Geo-engineering” and this insane scheme (which I thought had been soundly laughed out the window a few years ago) to inject millions of pounds of sulphur particles into the air, Mount Pinatubo to the nth degree, to alleviate global warming and counteract the greenhouse affect. Kind of like shade cloth on your too-hot solarium. Of course, Time pontificated, the best solution would be to cut back carbon emissions, but as that is proving difficult and is liable to be very costly, this plan might be feasible and cheaper. CHEAPER??!! I screamed in my claustrophobic little mind—cheaper than what? Than losing all agriculture on Earth when the cooling effect gets out of control? Cheaper than finding out the hard way how plants and animals will react to a constant rain of sulphur entering their metabolism? Cheaper than the next techno-fix that you guys have to think of when this thing goes horribly awry?

I can take the thought that human life on this planet might be on its way out the side door, that like any infestation that eats its way out of resources, it will die out. That may be our karma, we are in the midst of finding that out right now. So be it—the Universe will not weep, we deserved it. But if we also must take out every other living thing on the planet as we go, if instead of intelligent cockroaches of the future unearthing the pitiful fossils of our chloresterolized arteries entombed in strange boxes of ferric oxide with rubber wheels, what if we manage to strip Gaia of her atmosphere, reduce the earth to a flat blasted plain of bare rock, take it back to the Archaean Era before there was an atmosphere or life? There quite possibly might not be enough time before Sol goes to a white dwarf for life to evolve again. We might be more powerful than we think—we could by this one act, this one decision made by a bunch of guys with pocket calculators around a table, have the power to absolutely and without second chances, end all life in this solar system. And if this Life, as some say, is unique, if there actually are not any other systems in the universe where life could evolve, then we are indeed truly powerful and truly dangerous.

Hubris was invented by a Man--men are jealous of forces more powerful than they. Men love the way the wind feels on their testicles as they set out across the spring tundra looking for mammoths. No plans, no talk, let things happen, got the balls and the quick strength and the nice new spears to deal with anything that comes our way, we’ll protect the camp, we’ll feed the children, trust us! Time for that stuff to phase out. Stop trying to engineer things! When the plaster starts falling in the soup, you don’t just issue hardhats and soup bowl covers, you fix the damn ceiling. When you learn to think beyond, way beyond, the cost of things as measured by a spreadsheet and a computer simulation, you will maybe start to think like a Woman, in a more wholistic, nurturing way, accepting that some things are far larger than you.

I have applied for permission to become an Honorary Woman, my wife has forwarded the application to Gaia and all her cohorts, and it is pending.

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Health Care Rant

A friend was told a few years ago that he was being released from the hospital early despite still needing somewhat advanced care. The doctor told him it was far less risky at home—an infection from a lengthy hospitalization would be almost certain and it could kill him. Another friend is currently undergoing chemotherapy for advanced cancer which was undiagnosed for over 8 years by her trusted physician. Despite her yearly pleading for a mammogram, he just brushed her off because he had her listed mistakenly as a Medicaid patient. Yet now the treatment, costing hundreds of thousands, is still not paid completely by her insurance, notably the one anti-nausea drug that keeps chemo patients able to face life which costs $1000 per pill. A news item in today’s paper told of the coming need for cancer doctors to have serious discussions with their patients about whether or not they can really afford treatment; perhaps they should just decide to die. Yesterday the story was about doctors are refusing to treat oldsters on Medicare because they will not be reimbursed enough for their valuable time.

I should develop this into a full-fledged rant about the sickness of modern society, our seriously dysfunctional food supply, overly-perfectionist definition of good health, unrealistic expectation that we will always be healthy even when modern Life in America is seriously keeping us from being happy. . .but I won’t. I won’t even go past just mentioning, because I never took accounting classes, my suspicion that “costs” are not always figured the same way you and I do in our household budgets. Somehow $800,000 saltwater aquariums in hospital lobbies, carpets custom woven with the hospital logo, and multimillion dollar administrators’ salaries get costed out as “health” care. The only outfit in America with more creative accounting practices is the movie industry.

You are of course familiar with the concept of a valve or a relay. A valve is a device that allows a relatively weak force to control a much stronger flow or force. In effect we as “health care consumers” (no longer patients—we aren’t all that patient anyway) have been reduced to simply fulfilling the function of relays to control the huge transfers of wealth between the insurance industry and the health industry. Neither side really cares if you live or die, they just need you plugged into the system so the level of your health can determine the flow of the dollars. Of course all the dollars came from us in the first place in our fearful support of the health protection racket. The image from those Matrix movies comes to mind—millions of patients on life support, kept alive by hospitals so the insurance which has garnished all their wealth will keep pumping it through the system.

In all this, I have not castigated doctors. That is because, in my little experience, they are still, mostly, caring people who really at some level want to help those they care for. Yet, as all Americans, they are addicted to the toys and the wines, the big houses in safe areas, the golf trips and the nice cars; no one wants to learn to define themselves in terms other than wealth of possessions, no one wants a cut in pay.

What would happen to the system if all health care providers of every sort were legally required to post a current list of their fees and charges on their website? Would we learn to shop like we do for auto repair? I at least ask my mechanics what such and such a repair is going to cost before I sign on the line and they are exemplary about calling me if it looks like an overrun. Try that with your doctor—his blank look is almost comical. The poor man has absolutely no idea of what his 15 minutes of time is going to cost you, and he cannot conceive of why you would undervalue your health so much as to worry about the cost. (He of course gets almost totally free health care through “professional courtesy”). We are out of touch, seriously adrift. Do not get sick! It will either kill you or ruin you. Do not trust this system to have the same interest in your life quality as you do, doubt them, question them, eat healthy food and get plenty of exercise!

Saturday, March 22, 2008

More about Science . . .

After writing my little thoughts about Science the other day I happened to look at the new Harpers and the lead essay took up similar ideas. Here is an extract. Grab the April 2008 Harpers and read the rest if you can: (http://www.harpers.org/archive/2008/04/0081967)

THE EVIDENCE OF THINGS NOT SEEN
Like democracy or justice, science is a word exhausted by its examples. Since the great scientific revolution of the West was set in motion in the seventeenth century, we have been vouchsafed four powerful and profound scientific theories--Newtonian mechanics, James Clerk Maxwell's theory of the electromagnetic field, special and general relativity, and quantum mechanics. These are isolated miracles, great mountain peaks surrounded by a range of low furry foothills. The theories that we possess are "magnificent . . . difficult, sometimes phenomenally accurate" as the distinguished mathematician Roger Penrose has observed, but, as he adds, they also make up a "tantalizingly inconsistent scheme of things."
These splendid artifacts of the human imagination have made the world more mysterious than it ever was. We now know better than we did what we do not know and what we have not grasped. We do not know how the universe began. We do not know why it is here. Charles Darwin talked speculatively of life emerging from "a warm little pond." The pond is gone. We have little idea how life emerged and cannot with assurance say that it did. We cannot reconcile our understanding of the human mind with any trivial doctrine of how the brain functions. Beyond the trivial we have no other doctrines. We can say nothing of interest about the human soul. We do not know what impels us to right conduct or where the form of the good is found. On these and many other points as well, the great scientific theories have lapsed. The more sophisticated the theories, the more inadequate they are. This is a reason to cherish them. They have enlarged and not diminished our sense of the sublime.

David Berlinski, The Devil's Delusion: Atheism and its scientific pretensions, excerpted in Harpers Magazine, April, 2008

Thursday, March 20, 2008

Rotten eggs and you

There’s always something of interest in Science News. Today it was an article about the role of hydrogen sulfide in our metabolism. It seems that this (poisonous) gas is produced at the cellular level and regulates a lot of things such as insulin function and the effect of garlic on the heart. I read the whole article, reflexively zoning out at the more complex biochemical details, searching for any mention of what I had first thought on seeing the title—"Wow, that’s the basis of the metabolism of those deep sea vent critters! Maybe we’re related at some level!" Not a thing about that. OK, well Science News is Science, not Speculation, but I was disappointed nevertheless.

I wonder where we are going with the exponential increase in bio-scientific knowledge. There is no being more innately curious that the human ape. We are very good at opening the hood and tracing the wires. Scientists don’t accept black boxes—they must remove the back panel and start probing and testing. Isolate the variables, control those which you understand, determine which variables affect others, and observe the values of those which respond to the ones you are manipulating. Observation involves measurement and much of the increasing knowledge we are gaining about life is due to a tremendous increase in the power of resolution of the measurement. We can now observe and tinker with cells, molecules, even individual atoms (actually we can see the shadow of its energy spike, not the atom itself). Recombinant DNA, whether you approve of it or not, is a marvel of small-scale engineering. Amazing things are being accomplished, for better or worse. I wonder though whether the human brain at the level to which it has currently evolved is capable of taking in all the information necessary for scientific inquiry and still remain able to formulate a Big Picture. Science creates models of HtWW—How the World Works. Does anyone attempt to create WtWW pictures—Why the World Works?

This has traditionally been the role of our elder scientists. Einstein’s detailed scientific work was over when he published his relativity equations in 1905 at the age of 26; the rest of his long life was devoted to trying to make sense of this information and to helping the world make sense of it as well. Not too long ago I read an older work of E. O. Wilson’s—
Consilience in which the prominent entomologist-turned-ethicist tries to lay out a program by which all sciences will merge and form a wholistic world view and system of inquiry that will take the human race to the next level. Although full of insights, this book published in 1998 is already out of date in many ways, especially ways concerning the assumed desire of scientists to even WANT to work together for the big picture. And I got the unfortunate impression that even 10 years ago, this greatly respected scientist was just shouting in the wind. The lay community (I define "lay" as anyone who does not make a living doing experimental science) is increasingly unable to communicate with the scientific community and vice-versa. And both increasingly ignore our elders, our prophets, those who have gained a big picture by tracing all the wires and lived to tell about it. Forty years ago I don’t think this ”debate” about the validity of global warming could have taken place—people then still respected science, science had not yet so often prostituted itself to corporate profit and it could be respected without question.

I love sitting around with my high school chemistry (and even less biology) and formulating grand theories of Life on Earth. It’s harmless, no one listens, but at least it is exercising my mind and at least I am making an attempt at some level to understand the Whole of it all. May we all try to do that—it’s indispensable. It's what we are here for. And maybe the biochemistry of the sea vent world still circulates in our inter-cellular fluids. You really are a tube worm.

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Spooks

Friends have been talking lately about spirits and ghosts. What is this all about? Modern people don’t believe in ghosts and spirits do they? Actually it is quite amazing to me the differences all around in how people perceive their surroundings-- their world view, weltanschaung, perceptual net, system of beliefs, whatever. It doesn’t pay to discuss the spirit you saw in the basement last night with your nuclear physicist friend and talking about quantum mechanics with your wife’s astrologer is likely to be a frustrating experience.

When I was doing my undergraduate slog in Psychology they force-marched us through a whole dense forest of 19th century German theories of perception—Helmholtz and the Gang. Before total boredom had set in, there was one thing that struck me: science generally maintains that all information we use to interpret the world comes to our brain from the outside, through our senses. I am not a philosopher so I am not really interested in things like the archetypes of Nietzsche or exactly what your brain thinks it is seeing when it sees a table. That segues on into psycholinguistics and, I feel, is all dependent on whose words you use and doesn’t really matter anyway. Now Helmholtz et al only counted five senses—they maintained that the ONLY way you are going to receive information is through your eyes, ears, nose, tongue, and fingers. Makes sense (pun intended), unless you consider that the brain itself and possibly the heart are very large electrical sense organs and are quite possibly capable of perceiving things that the other five cannot. We know that pigeons have an area in their brain that contains ionic iron particles and is therefore responsive to the Earth’s magnetic field and that certain fish can "taste" the electrical fields emanating from their prey's nervous system. To a 19th century scientist would that be any weirder than the possibility that human brains might have an area that is responsive to time, that elusive variable that constitutes the 4th dimension in the General Relativity Equation? Or that human and all animal hearts have a way for their electrical field to perceive eddy currents and relay them to the brain as the thing we call Love? I do not propose such theories. I am just saying there is a lot we don’t know and I never put down people who have seen ghosts just as I never put down scientists who insist that such things can’t be proven and so do not exist.

I like the word spirit better than ghost as it implies the essence of something or someone while “ghost” originally meant only what is left behind after something is gone, as in a jet contrail. Both concepts are interesting though and maybe what we really mean when we use these words is something of both. In a deterministic world view, we are on an immense billiard table playing pool with God using Einstein’s equations to call our shots. All masses that have ever been in motion have affected other masses or changed to an energy state, so by calculating backwards an Uber-mathematician (God?) could determine the position and state of anything at any time. That sounds very similar to me to belief systems which maintain that just as all motion and energy is ruled by the ghosts of past motions, all life is ruled by the actions and feelings of past lives. It is absolutely true that we don’t have to re-invent wheels every lifetime-- all the information we have built up about the way the world works has been passed down to us by dead ancestors. We in the West are generally not even very grateful to them, being pretty stuck on ourselves, the Golden Children of the Present. We think we know it all.

In the West ghosts are spooky and not something you should be friendly with—they are the lost souls of individuals who have really messed up and haven’t managed to go to Heaven, instead living in some misty purgatory with worms dangling out of their eye sockets. In Japan and China spirits of ancestors are loving and involved with our lives. They are interested in seeing their descendants prosper and be happy and all they ask is a little recognition and rice wine once in a while. There are ghosts (hungry and otherwise) there, but they are the REALLY messed up ones and are not always attributable to one distinct soul or person. They are the ghosts of Ideas and Delusions and should be avoided, but even they can teach the living at times if the living have the strength.

Darwin didn’t know about DNA; we do and can easily understand how these twisty molecules perpetuate themselves and twist from the past into the future. Richard Dawkins wrote about “memes”, the DNA of ideas and how they can mutate and evolve. The spirit of what we once perceived as a “person” is nothing more than the totality of all the perceptions and ideas and thoughts we have recorded about that “person” and is as fully capable of passing on its lineage as are the molecules that once made up the chemical equation that walked and breathed. Nothing is lost, all is passed down.

What does “exist” mean anyway? No matter how we choose to interpret it, we all live in the same Universe. All stories must be true. Just because a particular human holds a chair in Physics at the Max Planck Institute doesn’t make them any more qualified to interpret the Universe than a Nenet shaman dancing for reindeer in Siberia. Nels Bohr having tea with Madame Blavatsky, Gary Snyder serving the jam buns. I feel that any and all Theories of the Universe must be both true and false at the same time—true because at some level all possibilities are True and false because at every level all we perceive or can conceive of is False—an immense illusion that is so immense that even the idea of immensity is undefinable and false. Even the idea of Illusion is meaningless unless you have a duality between the Object and the Perceiver.

Om

Monday, March 17, 2008

Translations of non-existent writings

Everything I know about the the art of poetry comes filtered through my study of Japanese. I have never studied, and rarely read, any other poetry. Yet, not being natively fluent in Japanese, it would be a vast mistake to try to express myself poetically in that language. So for the past 35 years I have been writing image-poems, that in my mind exist in some as-yet-untranslated perfect Japanese language version, yet I have only the levels of meaning to express in English. That is my excuse for their clumsiness. But they do express my ideas. And maybe someday I'll be brave enough to write the mirror-image Japanese version of all of them. For now, let them remind you of Haiku and Tanka poems. Maybe if, in a far-off other time and place some reclusive Japanese poet wrote these things, I could pass them off as translations:

ICE CRYSTALS WILL NOT PASS

Cold morning, dull
Sky needs painting.
Is that snow sifting through the black pines
Or just dirt on the window
Seeming to move in my unsteady eyes?

A deep night-long thirst—I need water, not snow.
Why does the simple desire to stop drowning
Lead inevitably to dehydration?

Large mouthed fish ancestors
Taught us how to gulp for our life
Distilling the oxygen of consciousness
From the Ocean of Being.

To stop swimming is to die.

Saturday, March 15, 2008

Of buses and bees and flags

I was riding a crowded bus once in Kamakura, Japan, trying as usual to fit in (not much use with my long wild brown hair) when the bus lurched around a corner as buses in Japan often do since there are a lot of corners. A six foot-plus American, probably from a nearby base, was standing holding a strap and in trying to catch his balance lifted his meaty arm up suddenly and smacked the face of the small middle-aged woman next to him. Uncharacteristically for a Japanese person, she let out a loud complaint and for the next few minutes until she got off at her stop muttered grumpily under her breath about stupid foreigners who are so heavy they can’t balance on a bus. When I made my way to the front to get off a bit later I was treated to a long aisle of glares associating mild-mannered little student me with this red-faced Marine. I wanted to stop and explain to everyone in my very politest Japanese that I knew how to keep my balance on a bus.

Post 9-11 America reminds me of a large sweaty man stung by a bee. He yells, swats and runs around red-faced, cursing bees, until he finds the one that maybe stung him, stomps out its life, then for the rest of the day charges around the neighborhood searching out bees to destroy, obsessively relating the story of his stinging to everyone he meets. “That bee HURT me!!!” He is probably the serviceman from the bus, who returned home at the end of his enlistment and raising kids, drinking beer, commuting to the insurance agency told stories about the impossible lurching buses in Japan and the strange little Japanese people who were sometimes so polite and sometimes so angry. Just couldn’t figure them out.

How to identify? Should we even try? Why do we obsessively maintain our Culture? Do we like being Red Ants vs. Black Ants? My emerging consciousness of the world began in the midst of the Viet Nam War and was strongly colored by a deep suspicion of Government, Military, Establishment. We used Ike’s “Military-Industrial Complex” like we had invented the term ourselves. Leaving the country for about 10 years completed the process toward viewing America objectively and made me feel awkward around flag-wavers.

I remember being strangely confused when an acquaintance in my group of expats, comfortably ensconced in a bilingual little clique in Tokyo announced to the group in the winter of 1976 that he was going home. “Why??!” we all asked—“home” was the bad guy, the Land of the Nixon, and he strangely enough was going to Washington to look for a job. What??! Well, he reminded us, Carter has won the election and for the first time in 13 years (Johnson didn’t count with him) there is a Democratic administration and there will be places for liberals with an education. Hmmm . . . well, OK we all said but nobody followed him and he was never heard of again, disappeared into the maws of bureaucracy. The whole big Red/White/Blue country music Smokey the Bandit CB radio America glorifying late 70’s pretty much passed us by in Tokyo. We tried a little to explain it to Japanese friends and they didn’t get it either.

So I am neither ashamed nor proud to be an American. I just would rather not even go there. I am an ape with overdeveloped frontal lobes and sensitive dexterous fingers who is trying, as are all, to keep the food going in one end and the shit out the other long enough to see with the mythical third eye a little glimpse of what’s behind the web of concepts we call light, atoms, molecules, culture, French fries. I would rather try to feel kinship and co-matriotism with my cousins the bears and the horse flies than worry about which community of apes was bothering another. It's hard to love horse flies, that's a challenge worth working on.

Friday, March 14, 2008

Artificial sunlight--good stuff!

In November it will be 30 years since I got off the plane from Japan and re-settled in Montana. Thirty years of watching a spinning potter's wheel, kneading untold tons of clay, burning my eyeballs off staring into kilns. Except for one glorious summer and fall outdoors building a house in rural Yellowstone County, I have been working indoors for most of that time. In basements, in garages. Without sunlight. Without Vitamin D, not having evolved yet to where my body can synthesize it. In January, because of a conversation with my son and his doctor, I began taking 1000 I.U. daily, over twice the RDA.

And guess what? I’m suddenly not old any more! My bones don’t hurt and my brain grew back! I’m remembering things from 30 years ago like they were yesterday and have the synapses to put words to the memories and inflict them on the public in this blog. 大変すまないことなんです。(literally=”it’s a seriously unending thing . . .” but meaning “sorry”)

So take your vitamins—it really helps.

One of the things I'm doing is re-working many of the old poems I have kept. Those can be inflicted on the public at some other time. Here is a new one for this Limbo-time we are all waiting in:

PARCHED, WAITING FOR RAIN (SPRING REPORT)

Each morning a pang of dry frost,
Swept out at noon by a warm, ill-tempered wind.
Afternoons balmy but edgy, droughty at the slightest cross word.
Sunset later now since they tinkered with the time.

Leaves turned over by the wind, flipping meanings twice a minute
As the sun darts behind a cloud and the air chills.
The veins re-worked, re-learned, ancient patterns of divining
To be tilled under by new knowledge when it’s warm.

In the garden the blood-brown dirt is confused.
Can’t decide whether it is frozen or blow dried.
Mulch too dry to rot, too wet to drift away.
Bewildered sprouts hesitate, not sure if this would be a Good Time.

Birds in transition, winter-hungry,
Yet bustling and busy with the irritability of mating urge.
Too soon to stop flocking at the feeder,
Buddies starting to look like rivals and nesty thoughts emerging.

Inside, writing on dry paper, remembering long past wetter Springs
When I converted passions to lines on damp notes by open windows.
I smelled the rain then and wondered how much could spurt out
And still leave me whole.

This is the Time of Dry Leaves.



木の葉ごろごろ乾いた土を逃げ、私夢の雨泳ぎ、浮き世上手く操縦せり。

P. S. Support a Free Tibet, they need help now. The Chinese do not do good things there.

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

The voice of the Curmudgeon . . .

Can you visualize what it was like to live as an average person before the beginning of the Industrial Revolution? Let’s say you were not among the very few who had wealth. Maybe you were an artisan in a town but chances are you would have been on the land; cities were as yet fairly small, most people farmed. No matter what series of actions you went through each day or each season to feed yourself and your family, you had almost no leisure time. People cooked, spun, milked, washed, cared for children, plowed, hauled, cut wood, sowed, harvested--all of these things and much, much more filled the day from the moment of waking until an exhausted sleep. In the evening sitting near the fire, no hand was idle, there was always some handwork to be done, it was unheard of and considered unhealthy, a deviation, to sit and think with idle hands. Sitting in church for three or four hours on Sunday was a welcome respite for weary bodies—it was literally the only time all week anyone could just sit and let their mind wander. There was no such thing as Entertainment, at least not in our modern secular sense.

So—we should be very grateful for the progress of science over the past 150 years that has made our lives so much easier. In many ways we seem to have come out of a dark tunnel into the light of a new world where people no longer have to slave to survive, where people have leisure and time to spend as they choose. Of course, as soon as people had one moment of free to time and/or money to spend, others appeared out of nowhere to take their money and provide them something mindless to do to occupy their time—the modern Entertainment Industry was born. Now most of us can manage to put food on the table with only 8 hours of work a day, often less. After work, what? Movies, TV, sports, a few do community work—all good healthy human activities which satisfy our tribe-of-apes bonding needs. But who takes any of this wonderful bonus time to think, to meditate on What it All Means? Does anyone read any more? If they read, do they think about it? When Herman Melville’s Moby Dick was published in 1851, it became a best seller immediately (although Melville never made any money on it). The literacy rate was high and it was not read by just the upper class, all sorts of people bought it, farmers, laborers, housemaids, apprentices. And these people understood what they read and took time to think about it. Moby Dick is not an easy read, there are many layers of meaning and implications that cannot be expressed in the Classic Comic version. You have to read it slowly and think as you read. Does anyone outside of college English departments read at this level any more? Thinking is creative, a thinking person builds on the information taken in by the senses, synthesizes it, and comes up with something no one has ever seen or heard before, a newborn thought or feeling that contributes positively, in howsoever small a way, to our mutual evolution.

But 99 percent of our leisure time today is spent in passive activities which have no creation involved. These activities exhaust the spirit by making us experience fictional stories and plots and emotions vicariously and at a breakneck, real-time speed that allows no time for thought. How many times have you stopped the DVD player while watching a movie to think about and digest what has just taken place on the screen? No one does that—we all need to get to the End, to find out What Happens. We take our entertainment like we are getting on a roller coaster—can’t get off until it’s over and the cathartic release of having screamed all the way down the hill is really what we’re after, not thinking about how the tracks are put together and whether the bolts are loose.

What is passive entertainment doing to the human mind? We have evolved to this amazing stage where most of our material needs are easy to obtain and we have been blessed with a leisure unique in human history. We have this gift of time which could be used to think deeply, creatively, to plot our course, to gain a reflectivity which might avert us from calamity. These are dangerous times and the clock is ticking, the earth is filling up. Instead we numb our senses by plugging into the entertainment industry, by dancing the night away. At no previous time have humans needed deep thinking more and mindless entertainment less. We have the time if we use it, if we want the dawn to be a pleasant one.

Monday, March 10, 2008

More from Lafcadio . . .

Since I don't have time to write anything today, here is another excerpt from Lafcadio Hearn's Kokoro, written in 1895:

"Were I to ask any reflecting Occidental, who had passed some years in the real living atmosphere of Buddhism, what fundamental idea especially differentiates Oriental modes of thinking from our own, I am sure he would answer: “The Idea of Pre-existence.” It is this idea, more than any other, which permeates the whole mental being of the Far East. It is universal as the wash of air: it colors every emotion; it influences, directly or indirectly, almost every act. Its symbols are perpetually visible, even in details of artistic decoration; and hourly by day or night, some echoes of its language float uninvited to the ear. The utterances of the people,--their household sayings, their proverbs, their pious or profane exclamations, their confessions of sorrow, hope, joy, or despair,--are all informed with it. It qualifies equally the expression of hate or the speech of affection; and the term inga, or innen,--meaning karma as inevitable retribution, --comes naturally to every lip as an interpretation, as a consolation, or as a reproach. The peasant toiling up some steep road, and feeling the weight of his handcart straining every muscle, murmurs patiently: “Since this is inga, it must be suffered.” Servants disputing, ask each other, “By reason of what inga must I now dwell with such a one as you?” The incapable or vicious man is reproached with his inga; and the misfortunes of the wise or the virtuous are explained by the same Buddhist word. The law-breaker confesses his crime, saying: “That which I did I knew to be wicked when doing; but my inga was stronger than my heart.” Separated lovers seek death under the belief that their union in this life is banned by the results of their sins in a former one; and, the victim of an injustice tries to allay his natural anger by the self-assurance that he is expiating some forgotten fault which had to, be expiated in the eternal order of things.... So likewise even the commonest references to a spiritual future imply the general creed of a spiritual past. The mother warns her little ones at play about the effect of wrong-doing upon their future births, as the children of other parents. The pilgrim or the street-beggar accepts your alms with the prayer that your next birth may be fortunate. The aged inkyo [retiree], whose sight and hearing begin to fail, talks cheerily of the impending change that is to provide him with a fresh young body. And the expressions yakusoku, signifying the Buddhist idea of necessity; mae no yo, the last life; akirame, resignation, recur as frequently in Japanese common parlance as do the words “right” and “wrong” in English popular speech.
After long dwelling in this psychological medium, you find that it has penetrated your own thought, and has effected therein various changes. All concepts of life implied by the idea of preexistence,--all those beliefs which, however sympathetically studied, must at first have seemed more than strange to you,-- finally lose that curious or fantastic character with which novelty once invested them, and present themselves under a perfectly normal aspect. They explain so many things so well as even to look rational; and quite rational some assuredly are when measured by the scientific thought of the nineteenth century. But to judge them fairly, it is first necessary to sweep the mind clear of all Western ideas of metempsychosis. For there is no resemblance between the old Occidental conceptions of soul—the Pythagorean or the Platonic, for example—and the Buddhist conception; and it is precisely because of this unlikeness that the Japanese beliefs prove themselves reasonable. The profound difference between old-fashioned Western thought and Eastern thought in this regard is, that for the Buddhist the conventional soul—the single, tenuous, tremulous, transparent inner man, or ghost—does not exist. The Oriental Ego is not individual. Nor is it even a definitely numbered multiple like the Gnostic soul. It is an aggregate or composite of inconceivable complexity,--the concentrated sum of the creative thinking of previous lives beyond all reckoning."

Sunday, March 9, 2008

The Yoke

Everyone is into Yoga these days. That’s good! But in America it has become merely another system of exercise or weight-control. There is very little knowledge or study of the Yogic philosophies behind the stretching and relaxation routines. Americans think they know who they are and couldn’t care less about where all this Yoga stuff comes from. They go to their mega-churches on Sunday and sit like sheep listening to the Christian Rock and to the charismatic preacher telling them that they are Good People if only they will make sure they are here every Sunday, checkbook open, and don’t forget to work hard all week—God likes it when you are successful and the Church really likes it! Americans are the world’s cockiest people—they think they know who they are, they are convinced that they are right most of the time, they are incurably optimistic about Life and totally convinced the American Way of—--is the best thing going. They go through their busy days running to the office, zooming to lunch with the gang, checking email, gossiping about sports or the latest styles, picking up the kids, going to the game. What a Life! And so democratic! Why can’t the whole world be like this? Americans do not know a thing about Death. They never look under the lid to see what makes them tick. Do you really think that you are the being depicted on your driver’s license? What does the word “I” mean that you use 100 times a day? What do you really mean by that? These are not just questions for young college kids to ponder about before they enter the “real world” and have no more time for such foolishness. These are questions at the root of much of the unhappiness, stress, and sickness we see all around us in modern society.

The Sanskrit word “Yoga”, meaning “link”, comes from the same Indo-European root as our word “yoke”. “Yoke” has a somewhat negative sub-meaning, perhaps because of millennia of guilt for the way we have treated draft animals, but Yoga is the link between the physical body and the spiritual body, a system of training for both the physical and spiritual sides of us to enable us to strengthen that link. Yoga is the oldest known systematic method of dealing with the true meaning of “Self” or "I".

There is another Sanskrit word
prana which means life force and is an important concept in the study of Yoga. This is a concept that is almost universal among ancient tribal systems of belief as well as among Eastern religions. It is significantly lacking in Western religions which have chosen to give the power of life and death to God and have reduced the human spirit and its life force to serfs in the Glorious Kingdom. Pray from the heart but once and thou shalt be saved, no matter how much of a sloppy, double-dealing lazy bastard you are most of the time.

Life force,
prana, chi, Ki, 気, Power (a la Carlos Castaneda)--no matter what the name, it is what keeps us alive. It is completely amoral, used for good as well as bad actions. Everyone has at least a little bit, healthy happy people have more, the person on their deathbed is being rapidly drained of it. All around you there are people indulging themselves and wasting their prana by chewing gum, smoking, twisting their mouths, pacing restlessly, cradling coffee cups, constantly putting snacks in their mouth, indulging in nervous habits and useless actions. Much of this is caused by unconscious fear, anxiety, or anger that has no other way to get expressed. Some people around you however practice self-control, not necessarily because they are devotees of Eastern cults but because they were brought up that way or learned on their own (自悟自証). These people work with a minimum of effort, waste little time, are focussed and ready to get to the point, and are rarely ill. People who are leaking their life force are worn-out looking and don’t know why, tire easily, sick often, and seem as buffeted about by life as a dead leaf in the winter wind.

The study of Yoga as well as some Eastern religions teaches how to conserve or improve your life force. The first lesson is usually how to conserve what you already have by not letting it leak out all over the place. It is taught that the major causes of energy drain are 1) nervous habits, 2) association with negative persons, 3) misuse of your senses, and 4) idle meaningless talk. Let’s look at these:

  • Nervous habits include foot tapping, finger crunching, mouth twisting, hair flicking, teeth clamping, compulsive snacking, tobacco use, coffee need, and other addictions (let’s take up the physiological side of these some other time).
  • Negative persons—we are taught as good Christian Americans that everyone has a good side and the right thing to do is to be nice, not avoid people, engage them in conversation, try to be their friend. This is not always good for you. Read Carlos Castaneda for the paranoid, gothic version about evil wizards out to steal your life force around every corner. That’s the other extreme; the truth is there is no benefit for you to let your chi get drained by constantly being around people who bring you down. Disappear.
  • Misuse of your senses, what does that mean? The worst thing we do these days in that realm is overindulgence in electronic media. Americans can’t seem to get through their day unless they bombard themselves with radio, TV, I-pod, constant stimulation. There is absolutely NO WAY to get through to any kind of inner peace while you are watching television. Worse, the drama and passionate attachment depicted in movies and even “reality shows” pulls your chi into an imaginary karma and exhausts you. You get involved in the problems of fictional characters and have no energy left for the real problems of yourself and those in your world. This ties directly into:
  • Idle chatter—many of us are afraid of silence. If we cannot be chatting away with others, we will keep our mind-talk going full tilt in an imaginary conversation with ourselves. We never stop talking, inside our out. For some the only way to shut off this chatter is to fill the senses with TV or radio, but that doesn’t solve the problem, as above.

All this is just the tip of the iceberg of the Yogic Philosophies. There is much, much more. If Americans would only start by taking 5 minutes a day for some deep, silent breathing, some solitary non-thought, muscles relaxed, no Behaviors, we would all be much better prepared for the challenges life puts in front of us, to say nothing of death. If we could just go through our day without banging into our environment at every turn, without breaking knobs off things from twisting too hard (interesting thought—have electronic manufacturers gone exclusively to pressure activated switches because we were breaking too many knobs and sliders?) Like the knife of Cook Ting, we would slip through our day, following the effortless way, the open sinews, following the Dao of our life, then the sharp edge of our energy would never dull.

Maybe then we would be ready for the first yoga position.

Friday, March 7, 2008

Judgement Day Part II

(This is continued from yesterdays post. If you haven't already done so, please read March 6 first. As always comments are appreciated!)

Can you NOT judge? Try this exercise: try to go through a whole hour without even once making a judgment of good vs. bad about ANYTHING. Not about whether the coffee is too weak, not about whether you feel good today, not about whether the political candidates will save the nation or send us off the deep end, not even about the latest mass shooting. No judgments. Accept these things and try to convince yourself that it is above your pay grade to do the judging of them. It’s hard to avoid judging. We were trained to judge right from wrong from the time we were potty trained. How can a gunman killing X number of innocent students not be Wrong? Of course it is not Right, but does your condemnation of the act help your karma or is it just done to prove to yourself that you are on the side of Right? How many of our so-called values are really held as identification badges so that we will be seen by others and ourselves to be on the winning side, to be in the right tribe? How much judging is just displaced fear?

If you can’t quite avoid any judgment for a whole hour, try at least not to program your own reactions or emotions to the judgment, if you must make it. For example if you can’t help forming the judgment that the kitchen floor is really just too filthy, don’t leap to the conclusion that you are a bad person for letting it get that way. If you feel that the Universe needs your condemnation of the random shooting, then does your body and your karma need the righteous anger you feel in your gut? This debate is at the center of the reason many Christians condemn Buddhists for their apathy. The Buddhists believe in keeping a distance from the passions involved in signing on to the hue and cry of emotional involvement with things and issues.

I do not wish to idealize or proselytize Buddhism. Buddhism isn’t perfect, Judaeo-Christian isn’t perfect. I don’t think anyone should ever feel they have to buy into an entire system of belief, no matter how sensible and fulfilling some parts of it are. That’s why you won’t find me in anyone’s church. The non-judgmental aspect of traditional Buddhism has contributed over the millennia to a very laissez-faire attitude regarding the physical living conditions of many of its adherents. Main-stream Buddhist sects have failed to recognize the degree to which the suffering they deplore can be caused by social and political factors. Even today in Asian countries, “Buddhist Activist” is pretty much a contradiction in terms.
“Although Mahayana Buddhism has a grand vision of universal salvation, the actual achievement of Buddhism has been the development of practical systems of meditation toward the end of liberating a few dedicated individuals from psychological hangups and cultural conditionings. Institutional Buddhism has been conspicuously ready to accept or ignore the inequalities and tyrannies of whatever political system it found itself under. This can be death to Buddhism, because it is death to any meaningful function of compassion. Wisdom without compassion feels no pain.” Gary Snyder, Buddhist Anarchism, 1961

Those of us brought up “Christian”, hammered on by parents, siblings, teachers, nuns, etc. for the purpose of teaching right from wrong have a hard time with non-judgment. Judging EVERYTHING in our environment as Right versus Wrong is so basic to our culture that it is almost impossible to be here at all without indulging in it. Not to have opinions about politics is considered apathetic, not to be constantly scolding your kids is considered spoiling, to have dirty kitchen floors—what would your Grandmother think? To refrain from jumping on the violent retribution bandwagon after a crime against society is considered sociopathic. After the Virginia Tech shootings a certain member of my extended family actually maintained that “I wished I would have known about that guy—I woulda drove right down there and blown his head off!” OK, thank you Mr. Avenger from God, we’ll call you next time . . .

All living things are making judgments about their environment all the time—it’s what saves us from the sabre-tooth and allows us to evolve. But there is a basic difference between sorting out the good-for-you and the bad-for-you as contrasted with the beat-yourself-up-about-it judgment that we are taught to make in the tradition of the worship of fire-slinging vengeful Jahweh, Zeus, Dios, le bon (yeah, right) Dieu. Right is Might, Godly vs. Evil—it’s what makes the Western world go around. It’s what spanks children for innocently speaking a “profane” word, it’s what fills George Bush’s head and is why we are in Iraq. It warps the thoughts of over-stressed fathers who feel they must murder their wives and children to save them from Evil. It contributes to untold numbers of men, women, and children feeling a vague sense of worthlessness all their lives, feeling sure they have failed God, the saints, their parents, or SOMETHING, but not quite sure how or why.

It’s really interesting to trace the historical flow of these ideas and see how humanity has actually come a long way—2000 years ago it was pretty radical to conceive of an Absolute Good against an Absolute Evil. The earlier religions didn’t go there, they just tried to keep their pantheons happy, you propiate the kitchen god today, make the garden goddess happy tomorrow, a simple, easygoing life, not too many worries. Kind of like ants. Manicheism was an old religion that started about the same time and place as Christianity but spread east into Persia as Christianity spread west into Rome. Its main precept was the absolute incompatibility of good and evil. It heavily influenced the early Christian thinkers and we have it and its sister religion Zoroastrianism to thank for this fierce dysfunctional duality that cripples our spiritual life now, for the concept of Sin.

The “guilt” societies are organized differently. There is good and bad, but the good is to be in a state of harmony with your body, your family, your neighborhood, your city, your whole society. Think: The Teachings of Kun Fu (Confucius). Bad is caused by acting outside the norm, by doing anything that might disrupt the harmony of the group, for which the properly brought up Asian person feels guilty, not sinful. Buddhism tends to use terms which translate “unskillful” or “unhelpful” instead of “bad” or “evil”. This ties into a whole chain of concepts regarding the state of a person’s karma and how the person is acting to improve that karma. In life most of us want to be happy but instead we end up being miserable a lot of the time-- we lack skill in following our karma to a higher plane. A Buddhist never regards a person or an act as totally bad, only with a feeling which might be stated: “It’s a shame—by doing that, this person has not only delayed his/her own peace and enlightenment but by his/her ignorance has seriously complicated the karma of the entire world and put off all of our eventual enlightenment by just that much.”

Whether or not any of this is going to save us all, you can definitely help improve your own life if you step back from the issues. Take things as they come, let the Universe be the judge of things, you don't have to do it. Try to separate yourself from the tribal fear that comes gushing into the pit of your stomach when something “wrong” happens. Take lots of deep breaths, walk skillfully through the world. Have a Nice Day!!

Thursday, March 6, 2008

Judgment Day

After the 2000 elections, I blamed the Christians. I didn’t bother to sort out Christians by type or shade of belief—all I saw was the rigid, authoritarian judgmental types who had a scary self-righteousness, people who were sure they knew right from wrong and were qualified to push their judgments onto the rest of us. I was pretty sure that this brand of belief was rapidly leading us down the road to a fascist theocracy and I started talking about leaving the country for good. However now I am starting to see that the fundamentalist types are a symptom, maybe not the cause of a larger problem we have in this society.

I was a consecrated boy myself, spent many pre-teen hours on my knees, passed out in church a couple of times from obeying Father Crockett’s stricture that it was very bad to have eaten anything in the morning before you took communion. I can still remember what the bishop’s oily finger felt like tracing that cross on my forehead at confirmation. Oh boy, I thought, I’ll go to heaven for sure now, this is serious stuff— it definitely made my day that Sunday in the spring of 1963.

So with my Christian creds intact, I felt I had been there done that and I resented these people being concerned about my spiritual well-being and having the temerity to bug me about it. To bug me AND to reserve for themselves the right to judge whether I was on the winning side or not. People like that STILL bug me. But to save myself time spent thinking about it, for years I extended my sense of irritation to all religious types and concentrated on my handwork and the mastery of interaction between tool and object, a wordless process that, although quite spiritual, carries it’s own definition of good and bad that has nothing to do with anything written in anyone’s Book.

It has struck me in the past few years, though, that people of firm religious convictions often are calmer than those without. Easily explainable I suppose—they don’t have to worry about figuring it all out, they already Know. I guess I’d like to extend a truce to the Christians; having any thoughts whatsoever about the Big Things in the universe and the hereafter is better than just living your take-all-you-can-get-and-run consumerist American life while worshiping 7 days a week at the Temple of Walmart.

BUT—I still have some basic quibbles with what growing up in this Western, more than nominally Christian society has done to me and most of the rest of those around me and those quibbles go pretty much to the root of the whole Judaeo-Christian tradition.

When I was in college being prepped to study in Japan, they made us read Ruth Benedict and Sir George Sansome and other early 20th century analysts with a missionary bent who were at that time the only Westerners who had written at all perceptively about Asia. These people drove home the point that the West was a “sin” based society while Japan and other Asian societies were “guilt” based. OK, whatever we said and proceeded off down the runway to live in Japan for a year and be normal college students—we didn’t give a rat’s ass whether we should feel guilty or sinful while we were following the hedonistic instincts of healthy 20-somethings. But 35 years later, I think there really is something to this and it’s more about judging versus non-judging than sin vs. guilt. It seems to me that there is something uniquely Judaeo-Christian about making an absolute clear-cut distinction between right and wrong. Note that I am not saying “Good and Bad”, a choice which even paramecium make, but am looking askance at the concept of sin—Right vs. Wrong (spoken in a stern, deep quavering voice like the bishop used to use.)

(TO BE CONTINUED. . .)

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

Lafcadio Hearn

Lafcadio Hearn was a fascinating man. He went to Japan as a newspaper correspondent in 1890, and stayed there, teaching English and marrying a Japanese woman. He was the first ever, and for a long time the only, naturalized Japanese citizen. He was a good writer, evoking in a wonderful late-Victorian style the beauty and charm of a Japan that was fast modernizing but still had large amounts of the old Tokugawa Period manners and customs. His words paint colorful pictures of Japan that resonate with the period's woodblock prints and still resonate today in Japan, Inc. of the 21st century When I was in grad school, Lafcadio Hearn was a bad word around the Asian Languages Department at Stanford. I once mentioned that I was reading Hearn and a professor made a sour sort of face that cast doubt on my basic sanity as well as my ability to ever succeed at the Asian Scholar game; I quickly repented, at least in public, and began to speak of the inaccuracies in Hearn’s translations and how he allowed his own personal beliefs to alter what he wrote about Buddhism. I read him openly now and consider the world he portrays to be a place in time that everyone wishing to understand Japan should go. Most of his books are out of print, but there is much available online (For example here: Project Gutenberg )

Here is a small sampling:

"It is with the delicious surprise of the first journey through Japanese streets--unable to make one's kuruma-runner understand anything but gestures, frantic gestures to roll on anywhere, everywhere, since all is unspeakably pleasurable and new--that one first receives the real sensation of being in the Orient, in this Far East so much read of, so long dreamed of, yet, as the eyes bear witness, heretofore all unknown. There is a romance even in the first full consciousness of this rather commonplace fact; but for me this consciousness is transfigured inexpressibly by the divine beauty of the day. There is some charm unutterable in the morning air, cool with the coolness of Japanese spring and wind-waves from the snowy cone of Fuji; a charm perhaps due rather to softest lucidity than to any positive tone--an atmospheric limpidity extraordinary, with only a suggestion of blue in it, through which the most distant objects appear focused with amazing sharpness. The sun is only pleasantly warm; the jinricksha, or kuruma, is the most cosy little vehicle imaginable; and the street-vistas, as seen above the dancing white mushroom-shaped hat of my sandalled runner, have an allurement of which I fancy that I could never weary."

Glimpses of Unfamiliar Japan


"Buddhism . . . recognizing no permanency, no finite stabilities, no distinctions of character or class or race, except as passing phenomena,--nay, no difference even between gods and men,--has been essentially the religion of tolerance. Demon and angel are but varying manifestations of the same Karma;--hell and heaven mere temporary halting-places upon the journey to eternal peace. For all beings there is but one law,--immutable and divine: the law by which the lowest must rise to the place of the highest,--the law by which the worst must become the best,--the law by which the vilest must become a Buddha. In such a system there is no room for prejudice and for hatred. Ignorance alone is the source of wrong and pain; and all ignorance must finally be dissipated in infinite light through the decomposition of Self.

But in the case of the average seeker after truth, this refinement and ultimate decomposition of self can be effected only with lentor inexpressible. The phantom-individuality, though enduring only for the space of a single lifetime, shapes out of the sum of its innate qualities, and out of the sum of its own particular acts and thoughts, the new combination which succeeds it,--a fresh individuality,--another prison of illusion for the Self-without-selfishness. As name and form, the false self dissolves; but its impulses live on and recombine; and the final destruction of those impulses--the total extinction of their ghostly vitality,--may require a protraction of effort through billions of centuries. Perpetually from the ashes of burnt-out passions subtler passions are born,--perpetually from the graves of illusions new illusions arise. The most powerful of human passions is the last to yield: it persists far into superhuman conditions. Even when its grosser forms have passed away, its tendencies still lurk in those feelings originally derived from it or interwoven with it,--the sensation of beauty, for example, and the delight of the mind in graceful things. On earth these are classed among the higher feelings. But in a supramundane state their indulgence is fraught with peril: a touch or a look may cause the broken fetters of sensual bondage to reform. Beyond all worlds of sex there are strange zones in which thoughts and memories become tangible and visible objective facts,--in which emotional fancies are materialized,-- in which the least unworthy wish may prove creative."

Gleanings in the Buddha Fields

I also strongly recommend Kokoro which is often available in paperback. 今日、 朝から晩まで心よくして下さい。

Monday, March 3, 2008

On tube worms and trees . . .

Using only a little artistic license, one can describe all living things as being divided into two groups: those which are rooted to one spot on the Earth and those which are able to roam untethered. Plants and Animals-- some fuzziness around the edges of these distinctions, but a pretty good general concept. If you look way, way back to when life was young you will find what is perhaps a much more important distinction between the two and you will find what perhaps will be the downfall of our little branch of the Animal Kingdom. Somewhere, sometime (all Japanese folktales start out with mukashi mukashi aru tokoro ni— “long ago, long ago, in a place that was somewhere”) already way down the road of life, when such complexities as cells existed, certain gangs of cellular beings discovered that it was possible to incorporate other, slower cellular beings into one end of themselves, chemically break down their hydrocarbons into energy and waste, excrete the waste out the other end, and use the energy to move and capture still more slower cells. (Apologies to biologist friends for the over-simplification).

From there on, the chosen paths divided. One group of cells discovered photosynthesis and learned that roaming was unnecessary as long as there was a sun in the sky. The other group kept on developing the digestion model, adding chemical reaction to chemical reaction, ever increasing the efficiency of the extraction process until they had leveraged the amount of available energy to an amazing height, a bio-reactor in the stomach that would eventually allow for sharp-toothed predators able to run for days on a single serving of meat.

Take in at the mouth, push out through the anus. All animals, animated beings, 動物 (
doubutsu—“moving things”) have a mouth and an anus. (Again, apologies to the bio-learned, anyway the exceptions prove the rule). Animals chew their way through the world powered by the distilled essence of their prey and drop the rest out the rear hatch. They don’t much care what happens to the excreta; luckily for them the rest of life has evolved to use cycles that incorporate the shit into new life and new food and new prey so the tigers and the chickadees just keep on eating and pooping and don’t have to think about it much. Yet these cycles depend completely on the non-moving beings to turn the waste of the moving beings into new food. Some planted beings occasionally have evolved to need certain moving beings in order to reproduce or spread seed, but the dependence is not nearly so universal.

Turn off your topological interpretation algorithm for a minute. Forget what you think you know about your physical shape and who/what you are. At one end is an opening that has taken in an enormous pile of potatoes, rhubarb, rare steak, and Gerber baby food. At the other end is the largest pile of poop you can imagine. In between is you, writhing through the universe, your senses attuned to the scent of the next potato, crawling away from your shit, singing your little tunes called Art, and wondering about the Meaning of Life. You are a tube worm.

Because we cannot directly use our dead for new life, animals are able to eat ourselves out of house and home. We are subject to Malthusian laws. We foul our nest, we use our acquisitive model of life to gobble up the universe, thinking ourselves secure in the promise of ever more universe to gobble. Plants on the other hand can grow upon themselves in ever increasing piles, deeper and deeper, burying layer on rich layer to provide energy for their future. Unless we learn some of the recycling philosophies of plants, learn to place ourselves within these cycles beneficially, we, the moving beings, are doomed. The worm can come to the end of the tube.

Sunday, March 2, 2008

Dying

It’s amazing to me that so few people think deeply of Death. Has no one else around ever watched a loved one pass on? Doesn’t anyone wonder where they went, what they are feeling now, what the experience was like for them? Doesn’t everyone lie awake for hours at night wondering if the next heartbeat will be the last? Don’t you wonder what comes next? Death is not the most popular dinner table conversation topic--are we all so afraid of it that we cannot even talk about it openly? As soon as you bring up the subject you get half the group running for cover and the other half retreating to religion. I have an old friend who has worked for many years with hospice care and has assisted with many deaths. She is the only one I know who can talk extendedly and openly about the subject, yet she also needs to use a certain professional detachment much of the time—the subject is just too awesome and belief-shaking and close to the heart.

For many, I suppose, the stories they learned in Sunday school will carry them through; they may have their beliefs tested, but not shaken. It is much simpler to believe in the souls who have passed just going to a nice new place and walking around in robes and sandals playing a harp. It is hard to avoid constructing your explanation of the universe in terms of places and dimensions. For me too, Sunday school lessons anestheticized the inborn fear of death for a large portion of my life, but they started breaking down when I started really thinking. I also always laughed at the silliness of those 19th century séances one reads about. I wondered how anyone could be so gullible as to allow themselves to be fooled by fake voices and knocks under the table. But the desire, the need, to communicate with those loved ones who have gone is indeed very powerful. It would make many people do almost anything if there could be a shred of belief. The person who was there talking to you one day has entered a new place and why can’t you talk any more? It is all very strange and our well-rehearsed interpretations of reality break down in the face of it. Talk to almost anyone who has been in the presence of one who is passing on and you will hear many strange stories—strange in that they are outside our accepted everyday experience, outside the simple explanations that our rationality gives us, unrelatable to the stories we have learned to use to give substance to the world. You will hear of visions, animals appearing at doors, voices, lights, dreams, sudden feelings. Many things surround the passing of a human soul, few of them susceptible to scientific explanation.

At the present time they are building CERN near Geneva, Switzerland. It will be the largest particle accelerator ever imagined, 17 miles in diameter. There have been fears among the less scientific of us that when switched on it will create a miniature black hole that will swallow the Earth. When asked about this by a journalist, the physicist who is in charge of the project dropped his pen on the table and said, “This pen should fall right through the table—the distance separating its atoms is so vast, why don’t the atoms of the pen just slide past the atoms of the table? Theoretically they could, if they were lined up just right, but they don’t. The chances of a black hole forming are about the same.” We depend a great deal on our senses to create a model of the universe that we use as our working hypothesis of how things “are”. It is of course just one possible explanation out of an infinitude of explanations. This Newtonian sort of world view works well to interpret the trajectory of a basketball, pound nails, to take you to the grocery store, to live your Earthbound life. But it doesn’t do well to explain where your loved friend or mother “goes” after her voice stops and her eyes go away.

Science is not the enemy in this story. There are clues that leak even into the supposed rationality of modern science that give away the game—for example, try to grasp an everyday rational understanding of quantum mechanics or try to contemplate the Big Bang (all matter existed in one unidimensional point? Whoof!) Or study the human mind-body relationship--everything psychologists learn about human (and animal) perception leads to the conclusion that there are many Truths, that all perceptions are subjective, that the only certain thing is that everything must be doubted. To the Buddhists and those in the Yogic tradition, the world of perception is a fantasy, a veil of imagery that must be let down to see the real Truth which is that there is none. To gain release from the fantasy, the dream-we-take-to-be-the-world, (which is often a bad dream full of pain), one must learn to dissolve like salt in the ocean of all possible truths, to ignore the 6 senses, the 12-fold causal chain, to let one’s atoms fall through the table. One “must”—but of course all such words and concepts are part of the illusion, so . . . ?

gate, gate, paragate, parasamgate bodhi svaha

Saturday, March 1, 2008

Growing

“There seem to be but three ways for a nation to acquire wealth. The first is by War as the Romans did, in plundering their conquered neighbors. The second by Commerce which is generally cheating. The third by Agriculture, the only honest way. " Benjamin Franklin

True enough—but what he meant by Agriculture was a far cry from today’s Agribusiness monster. When the Titans of Industry saw that there was money to be made from mining the soil, they chased the family farmer off of most of it and created a new paradigm that defined agricultural production in terms of profit and loss, never factoring in the deep ecological knowledge that millennia of the Earth’s farmers had built up. Then, with almost all of the first world’s people reduced to servitude in businesses, banks, factories and fast-food feeding stations, the open land could be enchained without public comment to produce what the captive populations of cities had to have. There is still a strong farming, nurturing, cultivative instinct in many of us, so the Titans saw that more profit could be made by selling us garden tools in huge Churches of Materialism called Walmarts. And they realized that putative farmers and gardeners must have seeds so they acquired almost all of the family seed businesses that had thrived early in the previous century, in the process wiping out most of the genetic diversity of our hard-won, carefully-preserved agricultural heritage. Among the more Aware of us perhaps there is a consciousness of the harm done by monoculture and pesticides. but we still love those January tomatoes from Costco and it’s really just too much trouble to grow things like potatoes which are SO cheap at the grocery mega-store and does anyone no matter how green grow their own grain to make their bread?

But get off of I-5 in the Central Valley of California onto a secondary highway going any direction and you will drive for HOURS through flat black machine groomed fields of spinach, broccoli, lettuce . . . ten miles of spinach followed by eight of broccoli, etc. It takes a LOT of land to produce cheap food for the captive millions. It’s creepy. No people around save a few Hispanic fieldworkers one or two per mile, no houses—no one lives in this country. The only movement you are likely to see is a huge Cat pulling a 20-bottom plow off in the distance. This is not what Ben was talking about!

It’s almost Spring. Start a revolution. Plant a garden. Shake things up.