Its not the food that kills you. Its your body. Its your mind. Its you. You kill you. Food? Food keeps you from wanting to kill yourself. Bliss. Ignorance is bliss. Truly it is. I always thought that aphorism was a condemnation of ignorance. Or of bliss. Its neither. Not anymore. To me. Its actually about as Zen as you can get.* Anyway Ignorance. I awoke this morning in a state of bliss, until the cognitive jolt informed me that I was going back to L.A. tomorrow. From LA to L.A. Beignets and Etoufé, humidity and dampened lucidity to whatever rhyming derogatory verbal pairing I might come up with later. Bliss. I was lying in bed under warm covers. Peace all around and within. Bliss. The state of knowing only where and what one is. Past, future, all gone. Ignorance. Ignorance is bliss is the Buddhist paradigm, or so I assert here after reading Siddhartha. And no one was more enlightened than Siddartha Gautama, the O.G. Buddha. He had it figured out. Of course Siddhartha found peace while sitting by a tree, not at a desk in the White House reserved for the Secretary of Homeland Security, although it has been suggested that the Buddha served the role of Acting Secretary during the strengthening of the Jihadist movement in Syria while Jeh Johnson, the official Secretary, was on an extended bathroom visit after breaking bread with Ollanta Humala, the president of Peru, whose chef-in-tow prepared Conejillo de Indias (known locally as Guinea Pig) when visiting the White House to extract a promise to prevent rich asshole Americans from clandestinely capturing Peruvian Jaguars from their natural habitat and bringing them back to the United States for Bachelorette Hunting Parties, which only rarely resulted in a probably accidental loss of the bride, but more often bridesmaids, which made sense statistically. Apparently, the Guinea Pig was bad. No, Siddhartha was perhaps ill-prepared to consider and act preemptively on developing threats to a more moderate (except for Right-Wing Militia and Red Sox Fans) rest of the world. Siddhartha would also have fared poorly if contemplating a career in the arts. But would have fared far better in bed this morning. I, on the other hand, had to make the deliberate choice to empty my mind. It worked. For a spell. Much as I am emptying my newly populated mind onto this page. It is surprisingly effective. Now back to the Beignets, which are covered by far more powdered sugar at Cafe du Monde than at Morning Call, tho each has their strong points. ============================= *I dont use Zen correctly. I apply it to anything that calls concepts I associate with Buddhism to mind. Zen is only one form of Buddhism, whose adherents resent the offshoot for either having a better publicist or the advantage of single-syllableness, which allows for a quicker entirely over-and-frequently-misused (see above) reference.
Posted on: Sun, 28 Sep 2014 18:20:12 +0000
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