The Gates of Heaven And Hell
A samurai asked a Zen master if heaven and hell existed. The Zen master replied, "Who are you?"
The samurai replied, "I’m a samurai. I guard the Shogun."
The Zen master said, "You, a samurai. What ruler would have you as a guard? You look more like a thief or a begger."
The angered samurai began to draw his sword out of his scabbard. The Zen master next said, "You call that a sword? I bet it’s way to dull to cut my head off."
The samurai pulls his sword out and is about to strike a blow and the Zen master says, "Here open the gates of hell."
At hearing these words the samurai understood the master’s purpose and put his sword back into it’s scabbard and at this the Zen master smiled and gently said, "And here open the gates of heaven."
For years I always thought about this story and how it taught that our own actions and responses to the world dictate our understanding and place in it, and on that level the story is as true as it is. We can, and do, literally choose whether our days are spent in heaven or hell by our perception of events and the subsequent effects of our actions based on those perceptions.
Recently though, upon thinking of this story in a different context, a different lesson was there as well. Since on the initial reading we focus on the Samurai asking the question, the Zen Master is merely a vehicle for the lesson in the story, and that insight tends to be what we take away. And it's a pretty good lesson. But I'd like to point out a different lesson that I think lies buried in the story too, if you look at it from a different angle.
Focus on the Zen Master and not on the Samurai. What does the Zen Master do? He easily and confidently manipulates the Samurai. His simple questions toy with the Samurai's mindset and framing of reality - and effortlessly so. While the Samurai, in his actions is about to willingly step between heaven and hell mindlessly based on the options manufactured by the Zen master, it is the master who actually presents the gates (the choices) themselves. This really struck me, because what if the goal of the Zen Master was not so altruistic? What if he didn't use this to instruct the Samurai but to merely manipulate him? And what does this tell us of those who have the knowledge, position or ability to understand and frame a reality and get others to do their bidding by simply understanding what motivates them?
Yes, this is a social and political commentary, because it is easy to say to people "You have the ability to choose between heaven and hell", and to a certain extent we do have that choice, but I think that alone is not enough - we have to ask ourselves exactly who's heaven and who's hell are we being given a choice of? And who is presenting us with those choices, what their motivations are (to instruct? to deceive? to sell you something?) and why?
Living in the 21st century where entertainment and news are combined, where journalism is bought and sold to the highest corporate bidder, where education is watered down and underfunded, one has to have a finely honed bullshit filter if one hopes to have any enlightenment about our situation. And how many who are in positions to provide us with information about reality are doing so with altruistic intentions to instruct us?
I leave you to ponder that and take what lessons you will.
Washington Dispatches, Day One
Well here I am in the dark, vile ever-beating heart of the empire. It's 6am and I am sipping hotel coffee, updating from the comfort of my bed at the Omni Hotel.
Train rolled in around last night at 7:30...got to the hotel about 15 minutes later by cab, then went with Yumi and four other people (doctor couples also down here for whatever conference this is) to an excellent restaurant 1/2 block from the White House - the Old Ebbitt Grill, Washington's oldest, most historic saloon, founded in 1856. Food was awesome and cheap compared to NYC..dinner for 6 plus drinks, desert (I recommend the Peanut Butter Mousse Pie) and coffee came to $216 before tip. And the food rocked, service was stellar. After dinner we strolled past the Treasury and the White House, we snapped a few pics with some of the ninja-ed out machine gun totting White House guards, which I was surprised we could do. When asked how many sniper sights were trained on us we wandered around one guard nervously laughed and refused to answer, so my guess was at least six. But the White House was beautiful at night. As an American citizen I was disappointed that while walking by the Treasury building I did not see hundreds of staffers running about inside with their hair on fire, arms flailing like epileptic muppets in response to the ongoing crisis. Seriously, I want to see some around the clock panic in that building 24/7 at the moment. The patriot in me will assume that they're confining the displays of panic to when Chinese tourists roll by during the day. Also no discernible signs of printing presses running. Will check back on that tomorrow.
DC is totally a political town. In the three cab rides I took (from the train station and too and from dinner) the cabbies all engaged us in politics. That'd never happen in NYC. And all three had political talk radio running in the car. The first driver from the train station was piping the audio from the McNeil/Leher report for christakes. Tipping is better under Obama apparently. I feel that the old cliche - that DC is hollywood for ugly people - will hold true. There is a palpable sense of humming power underneath all.
In the cab, rolled past the Watergate (now condos, which is probably telling of something) and the Cato Institute. I know where you fuckers are now. I gave them the appropriate salute from the back of the cab silently.
Today will see us move to another hotel and some sort of snapping of photographs in front of large stony monoliths depicting America's greatness. Bring it on, Ozymandais. I'll probably tear up a bit at the Lincoln memorial, but don't tell anyone.
- END DISPATCH -
Of Injuries, Nagging
So about nine months ago I had knee surgery. I had torn my ACL which is the ligament which basically keeps your femur connected to your shin bone, so tearing it is a pretty big deal, functionally speaking. Luckily, we live in the day and age when these things can be repaired by minimally invasive surgery. Incredible.
But knee surgery is a pretty tricky thing in the best of times. It's a complicated joint and there's lots of things moving around in there, and my recovery hasn't been 100% - and I hit the physical rehab thing pretty damn hard - at least until the insurance ran out. I still haven't been able to get the extension of the leg to 100%, so I still have a bit of trouble walking correctly, and it still feels like the knee catches sometimes. It has gotten better, but still doesn't feel right. And the cold NYC winter weather doesn't help.
Another Manic...Tuesday?
Ah, another Tuesday morning. I hate Tuesdays. Sure Monday gets a bad rap, being the day we all get back to the daily grind and all, but at least Monday stands for something, you know. It's got to have proverbial balls of steel to be able to take all the abuse hurled at it. Monday's are the craggy rock of defiance to the insatiable winds of humanity's hedonistic tendencies. Given the chance Monday's will fuck you nine ways from Sunday. Monday's earn respect.
Bah, but Tuesdays? Worst day of the week for me. The weekend is a fading memory and the rest of the week looking forward seems to stretch to the horizon. We've already discussed Monday. Wednesday has the luck of being the exact middle of the work week (heck in the States it's called "hump" day). It's not much, but at least it's a milestone kind of day. Thursday has the dual distinction of being the traditional payday, although that role has faded a bit in our modern times, and of being named after the Norse god Thor. I mean Thor swings the Hammer of the Gods. He has his own comic book! How can a day named after him not be cool? The other thing about Thursday is that the next day is...wait for it...wait for it...
Yes! Friday! A day which most of us agree is usually a pretty great day of the week. Heck, it has it's own celebratory acronym - TGIF. The day has it's own restaurant for the love of God. And the only thing better than a Friday? Why a Friday night, of course! And the overall inherent goodness of Saturdays and Sundays doesn't need me to say anything really.
But Tuesdays? See, it just hangs out there, mocking you. You can't escape it. It just needs to be endured. It is the trench warfare of weekdays. Like the city of New York, if you can make it on a Tuesday, you can make it on any day of the week, at least that's my philosophy.
The one good thing about this particular Tuesday morning on which I write this is the new automatic coffee maker (as seen in this picture) that was a gift from my mom just this last Christmas (thanks mom!) , which I programmed last night to stir itself awake at 5:30am to grind and brew me a fresh pot of coffee. Which it did. I love technology. But Tuesdays..they suck.
B out.
REbranded!
Well, it took about three days of near total dedication, but I got the ole' Miniblog all redesigned and relaunched for the New Year. I'm excited about all the prospects for 2009, and have a lot of plans and ideas I want to get out there into the wild blue everywhere. I needed a new personal site to help get it all out there as the old one just didn't have the functionality and design to do it. In other words it had run out of mojo juice.
The whole design is new, although I ripped off one of the mockups for another site of mine (can one steal from oneself?). The backend engine is updated as well. I'm using the fantastic little cms from sNews. I had used version 1.6 before, but now they're up to 1.7 and holy cow is it a much better, faster, more design friendly little bit of code awesome all bundles up together.
Okay, enough of the boring website backend chitter chatter. No one cares, right. Well, off to make a better tomorrow, which starts right...now.
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