The Empathy Circuit

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via JoshKornbluth.com.

How Short

"How short the joys of earth-- and the sorrows, too, thank God!"  ~Father Solanus Casey

Remember Me

"I'm the snip of red thread caught on a twig."  ~Naomi Shihab Nye, from Habibi ©1997

happy

Outlook
by Rupi Kaur
from Milk and Honey ©2015

i have
what i have
and i am happy

i've lost
what i've lost
and i am
still
happy

"I am, somehow, less interested in the weight and convolutions of Einstein’s brain than in the near certainty that people of equal talent have lived and died in cotton fields and sweatshops."  ~Stephen Jay Gould

Running Scared

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This is a weird little song.  It's very short, has a military feel to it, and there's no chorus; it's sort of an operatic vignette.  The range is so extreme that it's almost never been covered, although Jeff Lynne did give it his best (link).

It's a neat little thing.

Silence

“When you drop a glass or a plate to the ground, it makes a loud crashing sound. When a window shatters, a table leg breaks, or when a picture falls off the wall, it makes a noise. But as for your heart, when that breaks, it’s completely silent. You would think that for something so important, it would make the loudest noise in the whole world, or even have some sort of ceremonious sound like the gong of a symbol or the ringing of a bell. But it’s silent and you almost wish there was a noise to distract you from the pain.”  ~Cecelia Ahern, If You Could See Me Now (via)

I have always thought death would be easier to accept if it were accompanied by a clap of thunder and an orchestral flourish.

The aching begins with the horrible silence.

[esc]

"The problem was you had to keep choosing between one evil or another, and no matter what you chose, they sliced a little bit more off you, until there was nothing left. At the age of 25 most people were finished. A whole god-damned nation of assholes driving automobiles, eating, having babies, doing everything in the worst way possible, like voting for the presidential candidates who reminded them most of themselves. I had no interests. I had no interest in anything. I had no idea how I was going to escape. At least the others had some taste for life. They seemed to understand something that I didn't understand. Maybe I was lacking. It was possible. I often felt inferior. I just wanted to get away from them. But there was no place to go."  ~Charles Bukowski

The Trick

 

"Always recognize the dreamlike qualities of life and reduce attachment and aversion. Practice good-heartedness toward all beings. Be loving and compassionate, no matter what others do to you. What they will do will not matter so much when you see it as a dream. The trick is to have positive intention during the dream. This is the essential point. This is true spirituality."  ~Chagdud Tulku Rinpoche (source)

 

 

---

 

"It's all a dream we dreamed, one afternoon long ago…"  ~Robert Hunter

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Keep On Truckin'

"After you have practiced for a while, you will realize that it is not possible to make rapid, extraordinary progress. Even though you try very hard, the progress you make is always little by little. It is not like going out in a shower in which you know when you get wet. In a fog, you do not know you are getting wet, but as you keep walking you get wet little by little. If your mind has ideas of progress, you may say, 'Oh, this pace is terrible!' But actually it is not. When you get wet in a fog it is very difficult to dry yourself. So there is no need to worry about progress."  ~Shunryu Suzuki (source)

We Saw Yesterday Last Week

Mona and I went to see a Beatle's tribute band last week, and they were a lot of fun.

We didn't go expecting to relive Beatlemania, we just wanted to sing and dance and enjoy the songs that have become such a part of our lives.  The band we saw, Yesterday: The Beatles' Tribute, gave us over two hours of solid cover versions, and everyone there had a great time and left happy.

They are on the web HERE.  They're worth seeing.

Solitary Wanderer

Excerpted from The Black Cloud by Fred Hoyle, © 1957:

It is curious in how great a degree human progress depends on the individual. Humans, numbered in thousands of millions, seem organized into an ant-like society. Yet this is not so. New ideas, the impetus of all development, come from individual people, not from corporations or states. New ideas, fragile as spring flowers, easily bruised by the tread of the multitude, may yet be cherished by the solitary wanderer.

 

The East Texas State Fair has instituted a tough "no tobacco" policy.  Beginning this year, patrons will literally be searched at the gate, and if they find a pack of cigarettes they will confiscate it.

You will be relieved to know that they still allow handguns.

Oh no not I!

"Laughter is the evidence we are still here, the proof that our tragedies will not define us forever. Laughter is the language of the survivor." ~John Riebock

Disenchanting

Several years ago someone posted a link to Bob Dylan's cover of "Some Enchanted Evening." It was wonderful, and I bought the album it was taken from, Shadows in the Night.

It's not a song I would have considered if not for the link. I think of Dylan as more of a songwriter than singer and interpreter, and this seemed a little out of his zone. It was a very pleasant surprise, and it's become one of my favorite albums.

I wanted to link to the song myself, so that my half-dozen followers could hear it. Hopefully they would be have been as taken with it as I was. They might have even liked the song well enough to buy the album, as I did.

But, unfortunately, the song is no longer available on YouTube, unless you have purchased a premium account. I can't share the song, and without hearing it you're unlikely to buy it.

Everyone loses.

Nice job, Google.

Bloodbath

People forget what an extremist Ronald Reagan was. He wasn't a kindly old man who told funny stories, he was a demagogue who wanted to end political unrest by slaughtering all the hippies:

"If it's to be a bloodbath, let it be now."

Later he claimed that "bloodbath" was just a figure of speech. I've never heard anyone else use "bloodbath" as a figure of speech. Certainly the National Guard at Kent State didn't use it that way.  They loaded their rifles with live ammunition, took aim, and fired.

Of course this is the same man who, when called out for telling a joke denigrating Poles and Italians, claimed that he was merely giving an example of the sort of thing he personally did not find funny.

So I don't think telling the truth was of particular importance to him.

And I don't think our current political climate is an aberration.

It's more of a culmination.

Draggin' the Line

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I like this REM cover of the 1971 hit by Tommy James.  It's fairly true to the original, but also clearly an REM song.

Full lyrics HERE.

The Persistence Of

Rod McKuen's father abandoned his mother before he was born, and in the early 1970s McKuen hired a team of private investigators to find him.  The search is documented in the autobiographical Finding My Father: One Man's Search for Identity, ©1976.

One fascinating aspect of the search was how poor people's memories are.  Four women who were friends of his mother at the the time of his birth were interviewed, and each gave a different address for where she had lived.  None of these women had incentive to lie-- in fact, they were doing their best to be helpful-- but obviously at least three of them were wrong.  On cross examination they were all quite certain they were correct, and even picked photos of the buildings out of an architectural lineup.

It makes me wonder how many of my own memories might not be true.

Oh, Joy.

From SlashDot:

According to a new report from First Orion, nearly half of the mobile phone calls received in the U.S. next year will be scams. "The percentage of scam calls in U.S. mobile traffic increased from 3.7 percent last year to 29.2 percent this year, and it's predicted to rise to 44.6 percent in 2019."

My phone has become something I carry solely for emergencies and to see what time it is.  I use text or email for casual conversation.

I never answer calls anymore, unless it's from someone in my contacts.

Other Modes of Being

Sand Dollar
by John Updike
from Tossing and Turning, © 1977

This disc, stelliferous,
survived the tide
to tell us some small creature
lived and died;
its convex delicacy
defies the void
that crushed a vanished
echinoid.

Stoop down, delighted;
hoard in your hand
this sand-colored coin
redeemed from the sand
and know, my young sudden
archaeologist,
that other modes of being
do exist.

Behold the horizon.
Vastness acts
the wastrel with
its artifacts.
The sea holds lives
as a dream holds clues;
what one realm spends
another can use.

Sojourn

From Poems From the Sanskrit , translated by John Brough ©1977:

Earth, my own mother; father, Air; and Fire,
My friend; and Water, well-beloved cousin;
and Ether, brother mine: to all of you
This is my last farewell. I give you thanks
For all the benefits you have conferred
during my sojourn with you. Now my soul
Has won clear, certain knowledge, and returns
to the great Absolute from whence it came.

~Bhartŗhari

Pendulum

"Our emotions propel us through extremes, from elation to depression, from good experiences to bad, from happiness to sadness: a constant swinging back and forth. Emotionality is the by-product of hope and fear, attachment and aversion. We have hope because we are attached to something we want. We have fear because we are averse to something we don’t want. As we follow our emotions, reacting to our experiences, we create karma: a perpetual motion that inevitably determines our future. We need to stop the extreme swings of the emotional pendulum so that we can find a place of centeredness." ~Chagdud Tulku Rinpoche  (source)

Dawn

 

Death is not extinguishing the light
It is simply putting out the lamp
Because the dawn has come.

~Rabindranth Tagore

Changes

I've been unable to find the artist.  If anyone knows, please let me know so I can give credit.

If Donald Trump is ever called to testify, listen for the sound of steel balls clacking together.

What do we really trust?

"We talk about blind faith in religion, but actual blind faith exists in our everyday world. What do we really trust? We trust our senses, our perceptions, our culture, our thoughts ― completely, one-pointedly, and blindly. We trust these more than we trust religion.

"The idea of having blind faith in religion is totally a myth. The real blind faith exists in our worldly existence. We trust anything that is within the range of experiences of our mind, whether they are perceptual or conceptual."  ~Ponlop Rinpoche (source)

At some point Serena Williams' new daughter is going to say, "But Mo-om!  All the other kids are doing it!" and it will be interesting to see how she responds.

All Things Else

From Poems From the Sanskrit , translated by John Brough ©1977:

Water to quench a blaze,
Shade to keep off the sun's fierce light,
Goad for the elephant in rut,
Stick for the ox and mule,
Herbs to subdue disease,
Spells for the poison serpent's bite--
All things else have an antidote:
Nothing can cure a fool.

~Anonymous

Time, Time, Time; Look What's Become of Me…

From Poems From the Sanskrit , translated by John Brough ©1977:

The pleasant city and its mighty king,
The tributary princess at his side,
The learned men that were the kingdom's pride,
The minstrels with a ready song to sing,
The gracious ladies of the court, the ring
Of haughty nobles, arrogant of birth,
Are conquored by the Lord of all the earth,
Time, who makes memories of everything.

~Bhartŗhari

Gollum's similar riddle to Bilbo Baggins in J.R.R. Tolkien's The Hobbit, ©1937:

This thing all things devours;
Birds, beasts, trees, flowers;
Gnaws iron, bites steel;
Grinds hard stones to meal;
Slays king, ruins town,
And beats mountain down.

Special

If you could travel back in time and kill Hitler as an infant, would you?

I've been asked that question before, and my answer is always "It wouldn't matter."

The question presupposes that Hitler was a remarkable, irreplaceable human being, and I don't think that's accurate. I think he was an idiot.

And in an alternate time-line, where infant Adolf is murdered in his crib, I believe the same societal forces that forced that idiot to the front would just force some other idiot to the front.

He wasn't that special.

The worst part of every celebrity death is the inevitable Condolence Tweets.

Stop,Look,Listen...

"If, then, I were asked for the most important advice I could give, that which I considered to be the most useful to the men of our century, I should simply say: in the name of God, stop a moment, cease your work, look around you."  ~ Leo Tolstoy

Couplets

"Candy is dandy / but liquor is quicker." ~Ogden Nash
                                                          •
"Men seldom make passes / at girls who wear glasses." ~Dorothy Parker

Both of those goofy little rhyming couplets surprised me by having a credited source; the Ogden Nash quote in particular, because I've seen it scrawled on so many bathroom stalls.

Sicilian Landscape

Paul Klee, Sicilische Landschaft (1924)

Weak?

From Poems From the Sanskrit , translated by John Brough ©1977:

No, but look here now, this is just absurd,
The way our famous poets talk of girls
As weak and winsome. Weak? Is this a word
To use of those who, with a shake of curls
And with the triumph of a modest glance,
Can lead the very gods a merry dance?

~Bhartŗhari

Hearing

My father's acute hearing loss has changed the way we communicate.

We've lost subtlety. I can't whisper to him, "Be sure to compliment Mona on her new haircut," because he won't hear it. If I shout it loud enough for him to hear, then of course she'll hear, too.

It's surprising how many asides we have in a day, little comments and intimacies that are meant for just two, not the entire room.

I used to be able to make my Dad laugh, but it's really hard to shout a joke or a funny observation.  It loses something.  Sometimes it comes across as witty, but that's not the same as funny.  Usually it just sounds odd.

He would benefit from a hearing aid, but won't even consider it because "Hearing aids are for old people." He's 88. I suppose "old" is forever "five years older than me."

Worse, he has become very good at giving the impression that he's heard. Typically what gives him away is inappropriate laughter at something that wasn't intended as a joke.

I try to use visual cues. I asked him if he wanted something to drink, and he said "No." I waited a minute, then held up a pitcher of cherry Kool-Aid and asked again. This time the answer was "Yes."

I can't change the reception, so I have to change the transmission.

I'm learning.

Pretty Pictures on the Prison Walls

When I was younger, I would never have understood the two quotes below by Buddhist monk Tenzin Palmo. The idea of life as anything other than ever-expanding freedom would have been completely alien to me.

But now I get it.

 

Most people feel cozy enough in samsara. They do not really have the genuine aspiration to go beyond samsara; they just want samsara to be a little bit better. It is quite interesting that “samsara” became the name of a perfume. And it is like that. It seduces us into thinking that it is okay: samsara is not so bad; it smells nice! The underlying motivation to go beyond samsara is very rare, even for people who go to Dharma centers. There are many people who learn to meditate and so forth, but with the underlying motive that they hope to make themselves feel better. And if it ends up making them feel worse, instead of realizing that this may be a good sign, they think there is something wrong with Dharma. We are always looking to make ourselves comfortable in the prison house. We might think that if we get the cell wall painted a pretty shade of pale green, and put in a few pictures, it won’t be a prison any more.

---

Everything which we see and everyone we relate to, we relate to from this tight box of our very limited judgements, prejudices, ideas, conceptions. It’s like we’re in a very small prison cell, dungeon really. And so we begin to start a new kind of direction in our lives … but the important thing is not to end up going from one prison cell into another prison cell. Even if the new prison cell has nice decoration on the wall and burns incense. It’s still a prison cell. And always the question is how to go beyond the prison, how to get out, how to be liberated.

Crazy

Mona and I saw Crazy Rich Asians in the theater last week. The movie didn't appeal to me-- there were too many people doing too many things, too many wheels inside of wheels-- but there was one thing in particular that bothered me.

Although they were very careful to avoid any hint of stereotypical Asian behavior, they had no problem throwing a stereotypical homosexual into the mix. "I'm the rainbow sheep of the family!" he announces, then giggles at the absurdity of his own existence.

I went to a very small school, with a class of around 35, and since graduation at least five classmates have come out. There was only one I suspected, and not a single one of them conforms to the flamboyant stereotype so prevalent in television and movies.

I really think it's time for Hollywood to take a step back. If it's wrong to have a buck-toothed Asian who can't pronounce his r's, it's equally wrong to have a scarf-wearing homosexual lisping and prancing his way through the scenery.

fling!

Bob the Angry Flower by Stephen Notley is on the web HERE.

(I like the way the toast pops out in the final panel.)

3

Three songs about sunglasses:

1.  "Cheap Sunglasses" by ZZ Top (YouTube)(Lyrics)


2.  "Sunglasses at Night" by Corey Hart (YouTube)(Lyrics)


3. "The Future's So Bright (I've Gotta Wear Shades)" by Timbuk 3 (YouTube)(Lyrics)

Nothing Unchanging

"If our body really belonged to us, it would obey our commands. If we say, 'Don’t get old,' or 'I forbid you to get sick' does it obey us?  No!  It takes no notice.  We only rent this 'house,' not own it.  If we think it does belong to us, we will suffer when we have to leave it.  But in reality, there is no such thing as a permanent self, nothing unchanging or solid that we can hold on to."  ~Ajahn Chah (source)

Not so vile as

"Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin as self-neglecting." Dauphin, in William Shakespeare's The Life of King Henry the Fifth, Act 2 Scene 3