The Sacred: Vasuveda, Who Dwells & Shines, Said "Everything Comes Back"

You can change the fate of humanity with a laptop, but some things you never want to change. I strive to save the best of what we were. Most of all, I want to save people's voices, and if you ever hear the not yet perfect results of synthetic speech processing, odds are I was involved in their creation.

The picture above is beautiful. I want to be there, too. Hindu devotees from Bihar state performed rituals this Monday in Allahabad, India, the annual month-long Hindu religious festival of Magh-Mela. It was such a festival that Hesse's character Siddhartha attended and decided to give up his luxurious life as a prince, to go after something far greater. People still bathe at Sangam, at the plexus where the Ganges, Yamuna and Saraswati meet, to wash away their sins. If we could only but likewise wash ours down the River.

My wife puts her mouth against our two month old son's belly, blows to make the sound of a whoopee cushion, and he laughs with the purest joy. I remember that feeling, I don't want it to ever leave the earth, or that is to say, erased without trace, without beholder. I remember that we can hold pieces of ochre in one hand, buildings in the other, that I will do anything to halt a long decline of everything I've ever loved into the ground, and I remember the end of that book, Siddhartha:

It was the self, the purpose and essence of which I sought to learn. It was the self, I wanted to free myself from, which I sought to overcome. But I was not able to overcome it, could only deceive it, could only flee from it, only hide from it. Truly, no thing in this world has kept my thoughts thus busy, as this my very own self, this mystery of me being alive, of me being one and being separated and isolated from all others, of me being Siddhartha. And there is no thing in this world I know less about than about me, about Siddhartha.

In Defense Of Religion, Part I

All cultures, to my knowledge, strove to convey and control the experience of transcendence, and to name it. The follies and tragedies we humans commit against ourselves and others would seem to belie, belittle, or invalidate attempts to reach and understand the divine, but religion is an indication that we're trying to become more than animals, and are succeeding. While we're still sandwiched tightly between the sacred and the profane, those persistent struggles to find god are actually testimonies that one might exist.

We are all seekers, and even if inactive or atheistic we all confront the mystery of good and evil when we undergo bodily suffering, psychic pain, or loss, and when we genuinely express love or feel its overarching power. Many voices echo from the past, doing their best to honor this mystery and its nature, and the traditions of the major religions all set down principles of ethics which would help us live together and draw out better societies.

The resulting codes of ethics and senses of morals are strikingly similar, and in their basic precepts, they got it right. Although we often fail to do what we should, we come from traditions which contemplated over the basic questions of life and came up with the right answers. We have that much in common, and I try to remember that when someone asks if I have accepted Jesus into my life. Yes, but not for a distorted doctrine which redeems the irredeemable and excuses all manner of pomposity.

Tolerating differing beliefs, so critical a component for the world we hope to build, is a balancing act of respecting their wellsprings and gently but firmly pushing back when they flow too heavily upon the commons, one which newly encompasses not a lazy river or a village green but the entire earth. A path to tolerance is to listen to the other sources of belief and learn about them, and to consider lives in other societies which are unlike our own. Can the differing codas be reconciled, in a practical sense, now that distance has shrunk and we're so intertwined?

I think it's possible, but requires a great deal of luck in leaders, ones who believe a certainty in knowing god's will for application of policy is extremely dangerous. If there is an impulse to fight without reservation, it is religious certainty in government, deeply underscored by menaces recent and present. Governments always try to convert religion into civic religion, but the goals of the theocratic-leaning state show a strong tendency to diverge from the goals of the divine. We're far more likely to find god in what we don't know, and there will always be plenty of that.

Of Monies, Markets, Minds And Gods

Monies are coin and specie, the basis of kingdoms. In the times and places where carrying much is perilous enough to precipitate bonds of trust, we create tokens, symbols of promise and obligation. Every promise, when exchanged, creates untold more, every obligation kept or broken extends over manifold relationships. When these spread and cross sufficient distance, an economy is born, formed as fecklessly as grexes chain their way across shaded forest pools, as reflexively as greens sprout under the blessings of rain and sun. Monies are the flashing fruits of the earth, intoxicating distillations of expansive holy things. When seashells or oxen are used to signify and calculate its power, the greatest invention of mankind redolently imbues humble placeholders with ostentatious shine.

Markets are crucibles made for melting gold, harbors for the rolling seas of silver which bubblingly leap on torrents of light and heat. As with all the arts of man each has its own distinctive style, one expressed on a spectrum between the high-ordained rites of Mayan sacrifice down to bashi-bazouk excesses in furtive torch-shadowed bazaars. Markets, never free, require high walls and protections if they endure to allow the veiled fundaments of ever-present fears to politely meet the vengeful, sexual howls of unslaked greed. Sometimes sublimated, sometimes not at all, amongst cultured company the activities conducted in them are often called investing.

Minds imagine reflections of Gods, law-givers who set the cycles of heaven and earth, forces which wove the tapestries of space and time. Gods whisper reasons to the great and small, channelling their motivations, suggesting what to build. Histories become legend, legends become myth, and myths are echoes of godly conversations which distantly delighted in every human action. You can discern the names of a land's Gods in its taller buildings, you can read the interpretations of their priests in statues. I write this so my children might know the circumstances which one day will seem far-off, far as another country with other gods. If, my sons, you find yourselves carried off to strange kingdoms, you must learn their deities, while remembering how easily primitive needs puncture high pretensions.

Our priests, their hearts corrupted, had us worship consumption. They betrayed gods who should not have been forgotten and traded the respect of the world to be landlords of hell. Our armies have been beaten by peasants, our gold and silver have been stolen by the courtly and squandered on destruction. The priests are gathered in dark rainments, murmuring incantations to the horned god of Optimization, they're burning offerings to the fertility goddess of Capacity Utilization. The name of their favorite spell is Arbeit Macht Frei. It is the greatest of all their lies, lies which were beloved because they seemed merciful, to the indentured. And now only the truth can set us free.

The truth. What a fantastic monument to the better instincts of the human race this country might have been, and might improbably become. If there is any road to that redemption, it will be long, and paved with truth. In the mirk beyond the firelight, I see the outlines of an altar made for sacrifice. Not another of unfortunate enemies, but of us. One torch to set righteous fire, or one to light a funeral pyre. Tomorrow we will decide what goes up on that altar, whether it will be our children or our lies. Go, souls, our bodies' guests, upon these quests and errands. Fear not to hope in the West, and the truth will be our warrant.

There's No Place Like Rome...There's No Place Like Rome

Davo over at Wombat's Waffles (link at right) put up the picture of the Catholic leader, perfectly accessorized with bold red Prada shoes. Nothing against gayness, pontiff, but Nathan Lane's outfits in the American remake of La Cage aux Folles weren't as flaming as those goddamned shoes:

"Why, what are you insinuating, my son? Straight non-pedophiles wear shoes just like these all the time! And nothing supernatural whatsoever occurs when I click the heels together. Now kiss the ring before I spank you."

Seems the pope, whose online screen name is PBXVI, was visiting Oz this week because around 40 active Catholics live there. To paraphrase the guy in Sling Blade, "Some folks just need drillin,' hrrmmm." If I have offended any Catholics, god be with you, and please feel free to comically eviscerate what is technically still my religion. Mormonism.

I Am That Girl

Her name was Kim Phuc, and she had just been napalmed. Trang Bang was her village, it was 1972, she was 9 years old and fleeing down Highway No. 1 from Saigon to Pnom Penh. American GIs were sheepishly herding Kim and other children away from another atrocity. She was naked, in mortal agony, humiliated, had 3rd-degree burns over 65% of her body, and was in all likelihood going to die.

I assumed she was dead, if not one of the millions of the anonymous war victims who live in Vietnam. But the Associated Press photographer who took the iconic picture, Nick Ut, rushed her to a hospital. As the picture was taken, Kim was most worried about her disfigurement and how it would limit her future prospects:

I still remember my thoughts at that moment: I would be ugly and people would treat me in a different way.

A decade later, she lost faith in her own society:

In 1982, I went through another very difficult ordeal. I had been admitted to Saigon medical school. Unfortunately, one day the government realized that I was the little girl in the picture and they came to get me to work with them, to use me as a symbol, and I didn't want to. "Let me study," I asked them, "I don't want to do anything else." So they automatically kept me out of school. It was awful. I didn't understand: why me? Why could my friends continue their studies and not me? I felt as though I had always been a victim. At 19, I no longer had any hope and wanted to die.

Now she lives in Toronto, is 45 years old, and has become a UNESCO representative. I heard her on Monday when she was broadcast on NPR's 'This I Believe' series:

On June 8, 1972, I ran out from Cao Dai temple in my village, Trang Bang, South Vietnam; I saw an airplane getting lower and then four bombs falling down. I saw fire everywhere around me. Then I saw the fire over my body, especially on my left arm. My clothes had been burned off by fire.

I was 9 years old but I still remember my thoughts at that moment: I would be ugly and people would treat me in a different way. My picture was taken in that moment on Road No. 1 from Saigon to Phnom Penh. After a soldier gave me some drink and poured water over my body, I lost my consciousness.

Several days after, I realized that I was in the hospital, where I spent 14 months and had 17 operations.

It was a very difficult time for me when I went home from the hospital. Our house was destroyed; we lost everything and we just survived day by day.

Although I suffered from pain, itching and headaches all the time, the long hospital stay made me dream to become a doctor. But my studies were cut short by the local government. They wanted me as a symbol of the state. I could not go to school anymore.

The anger inside me was like a hatred as high as a mountain. I hated my life. I hated all people who were normal because I was not normal. I really wanted to die many times.

I spent my daytime in the library to read a lot of religious books to find a purpose for my life. One of the books that I read was the Holy Bible.

In Christmas 1982, I accepted Jesus Christ as my personal savior. It was an amazing turning point in my life. God helped me to learn to forgive — the most difficult of all lessons. It didn't happen in a day and it wasn't easy. But I finally got it.

Forgiveness made me free from hatred. I still have many scars on my body and severe pain most days but my heart is cleansed.

Napalm is very powerful but faith, forgiveness and love are much more powerful. We would not have war at all if everyone could learn how to live with true love, hope and forgiveness.

Christians can be good. More about Kim's story here.

Women's Rights: Grand Ayatollah Approves Pro-Choice

A new abortion policy ruling, one of two major women's rights advances recently reported from Iran, provides an interesting contrast to other less flexible doctrines, including those common amongst Christian fundamentalists. Naj at Iran Facts reported this news recently, and while wet T-shirt contests are probably still way off, it does indicate a major religion's rather profound concessions towards greater equality:

According to Parsine News Agency, Grand Ayatollah Mazaheri, one of the more renowned religious scholars based in Isfahan, has issued a Fatwa allowing unwed mothers to obtain abortions.

According to the report published on the site of Parsine a religious question was posed for the Grand Ayatollah as follows: "given the fact that pregnancy out of wedlock is extremely difficult for an unwed mother and will in all likelihood bring shame to her and her family, would she under these circumstances be allowed to obtain an abortion?" To this question, the Grand Ayatollah replied as follows: "given these circumstances, [an abortion] is permissible."

The interesting point regarding the response provided by this religious scholar is the fact that he does not address the age of the fetus. Other Shiite religious scholars have emphasized the age of the fetus and have in the past viewed the abortion of a fetus over 4 months as a murderous act for which full blood money (monetary compensation paid for bodily injury or death) must be provided to kin and in some instances have called for abortion to dealt with through Qesas (retribution).

The University of Al-Azhar which is believed to be the highest reference for Sunni Muslims on religious matters has recently announced that abortion for women who have become pregnant as a result of rape is permissible. The Islamic Research Committee of Al-Azhar University in Egypt published a statement in this regard, which reads: "women who have suffered rape, can obtain a doctors permission as soon as they become aware of their pregnancy, after which they will be allowed to quickly obtain an abortion." This statement has gone further to explain that such an abortion will allow for the stability of society. This statement was issued by Al-Azhar despite the fact that Egyptian law bans abortion, except under special circumstances when the health of the mother is in danger or the fetus has serious health problems.

Another ayatollah also ruled on a liberalization of inheritance laws, which previously gave widows a smaller share of a deceased husband's inheritance than his surviving relatives, explained more fully via the Parsine News link above. Property rights are fundamental to equality before the law, so this also must be interpreted as a significant development in favor of muslim women.

(Picture is of award-winning Iranian actress Golshifteh Farahani.)

More Wag, Less Bark, And How To Beat Al-Qaeda

Happy 2008! Here's to looking forward to a change in direction by this November, one which will see the world's woes begin to mend. Far from being a utopian sentiment, it's still possible to defuse worse war to come by wise accommodation, application of Realpolitik, and perceptive leadership. As Machiavelli would say, "when my people yield I push, when my people push I yield."

BushCo and Al-Qaeda have a lot in common. They both are condemnatory of the West, and believe its institutions, philosophies, and societies are morally bankrupt, even doomed. Selling Western ideals short is tempting, but the world's future may well not boil down to a binary game of social darwinism vs. theocracy. I'd put my money on Plato over BushCo or even Osama Bin Laden any day, and honoring social contracts, treaties, and binding accords, if such can be accomplished with former friends and enemies, is a far more efficient repository for faith.

First, a state of the current affairs: Pakistan People's Party leader Benazir Bhutto was assassinated in the military fortress city of Rawalpindi in 2007, on a Wednesday evening in December, presumably by those who wish to re-establish a Muslim caliphate. For the past 10 years, the United States has fed a stunt-man in Pakistan billions of dollars to keep things like this from happening, and suddenly, it feels shortchanged. Predictably. Yet predictability is no consolation from having to witness more brutal ineptitude in the short-sheeted Global War On Terror (GWOT), US policies characterized by wooden-headedness, crash-and-burn ignorance, and unswerving arrogance.

"Muslim Domino Theory" analysts are now publicly defining Pakistan as the front line against Muslim extremism (can they say, "Duhhh?"), and the US is sending Special Forces units to train 'Frontier Corps' to keep the Taliban and Al-Qaeda in line. It should be obvious how viscerally sick about 75% of the 160 million Pakistanis are of the US, and how disastrous further efforts to violently meddle in their internal affairs will be. It's like putting out a campfire with gasoline, and the flare of Bhutto's death was the 'whoosh.' She shouldn't have been there in the first place, the assassination was nearly certain to occur, as was the violence and chaos which has followed.

The Bush Administration had brokered a "power-sharing arrangement" between Bhutto and dictator Pervez Musharraf, sending her back (to be greeted by a huge car bomb in Karachi) earlier this Fall. It appears Musharraf forcefully declined the shotgun marriage, and the Wahabist sympathies of his junior officers denote strong complicity. Like chess neophytes, BushCo led and imperiled their queen too early. Neither neo-cons nor realists have any viable option to regain a semblance of control, and they have no Plan B but to send in Negroponte and the death squads. To "bring the evil-doers to justice," as His Lowness monotonously observed, will be next to impossible in 'Afghakistan,' nothing like it was in El Salvador or Guatemala. Attempting to do so will fracture an already fissured country.

So how to prevail, in Pakistan and elsewhere? First, governments wishing to blunt the effects of a strong socio-religious movement would not wave red flags in front of its nose, and would not idiotically attempt to bomb, occupy, and torture its innumerable adherents into submission. Aside from morality, the sheer scale precludes effective use of force. A government or coalition wanting to win would follow a simpler, time-tested course:

1) Understand
2) Parlay
3) Bribe
4) Marginalize
5) Splinter

What is known as "Al-Qaeda" is simultaneously a very deep-rooted revivalist and nascent protestant movement. It was seeded by long Western occupations and militarization of the Mid-east, nurtured by Muslims reading and interpreting the Koran for themselves, and triggered by internet-age communications. In historical significance and effect, Al-Qaeda is akin to Luther in Leipzig when he kicked off Protestantism, hanging up broadsheets stating that commoners had a right to read and think about the Bible, the existing Church was corrupt and incorrect. Like Luther and his supporters, the Muslim reformers want a return to spiritual purity of thought to exist in their religion's original form, and to reject the grossly abusive, sclerotic theocracies which currently claim authority. Trying to repress these urges is like plugging a pressure cooker.

The Catholic church tried to force the genies of Lutheranism back into their pressure cooker, plunging Europe into a hundred raging years of "Long War" during which it suffered defeat. The Church could instead have chosen to co-opt Luther's movement, dilute his power, and wait for the internal inconsistencies of his philosophy to take hold. Given time, revolting bishops would interpret the Bible differently from Luther and each other, a hundred groups waiting to bicker, splinter, and war. Luther was no stand-in for the authority of a Pope, and the Catholic church might well have prevailed over the Reformation through mere patience. Instead, it hoisted itself, and many but not nearly enough heretics, on its own petard. As a new central spiritual authority and commoners reading the Bible were natural enemies then, so are a caliphate and commoners interpreting the Koran now. They will fall asunder, all the faster by granting them a measure of credence in the meantime.

Just as the Catholic Church was unwilling to accept less absolute control over Europe in exchange for continuing primacy, the US refuses to accept loss of control and pursue a multipolar future. Pakistan represents loss of control, and it will continue to thwart the empire's will. The welcome mat has been taken inside, and much of the islamic world will take its cues from that symbol. America can't stop the looming civil wars there, and can't stop any future national wars against Afghanistan, Iran, or India. Power vacuums get filled, and there's plenty of stuffing already in and around Pakistan.

Rather than fighting a 'Long War,' the US and the West should meet with the Taliban, should parlay with Al-Qaeda, and should make reparations. The Guantanamo detainees should be released, shown kindness, and their families should be lavishly compensated. Troops should get out of Iraq before it gets hot again. George W. Bush should be scapegoated and, at his blessed departure, take upon his head the blame shared by many others, be they Democratic, Independent, or Republican.

Yes, this clean slate approach is a "perfect world," but it is also strategically sound. Al-Qaeda's propellant isn't "hating us for our freedoms," but annoyance at having Western-made spiked cleats on their necks for a hundred years. Moving even conservatively in the direction of Jiu-Jitsu will erode Al-Qaeda's prime impetus, and that erosion spells victory for all sides.

In Defense Of Christ & Advent Calendars

Someone sent Isabelita, she who blogs in Wallingfjord at Learning To Sequence, an Adventskalendar. Even though neither she nor the sender are Christian. This, like Christmas itself, is weird. Now, if you don't know Adventzkalendars, they are funny-strange mnemonic devices devised by sadistic Germans to build up the Christmas suspense, turning up the pressure a little every day, each little paper door a port-hole to fresh horrors. Sick, hyper-competitive bastards. ("Twelve days of Christmas? Tscha! Eat our socks, you English. In Germany we get all 25!") Ok. I'm not doing a good job defending the calendars.

Whether you go in for the Nativity or the North Pole, or both (or not), if you speak English as a first language there's always plenty of fertilizer coming at you this time of year. Iz wishes, quite practically, that there was more chocolate in her Advent's calendar, and is turned off by the fictions about the baby jebus waiting behind each door. Christ, were he still cracking wise, would nail the whole concept of Christmas. He would point out how Christmas occasions all manner of evil, and he wasn't born then anyway. And say what you want about evils, but they're almost impossible to avoid.

Therefore, most of us here have to roll with the reindeer shit, and for those with young children there are few courses open outside of Buddha, Moses, and Mohammed but bowing to convention. Then suddenly you find yourselves standing in line for over an hour, outdoors in the freezing wind. Waiting for something useful, maybe, like free food? Coffee? A concert? No. You wait to see a complete stranger inexplicably dressed up like a murderous freebooter, as red as drenched from head to toe in fresh blood, all to put your little one onto the lap of this seasonal worker of questionable origins who you really hope isn't a child molester.

Then, when it's almost your turn to stop freezing and fork over 30 bucks so Santa can cop a feel (Yes, Virginia. There is a Santa Claus. Run!), some officious elf sticks her head out of the faux North Pole workshop and intones, "Santa goes on break in three minutes!" You're three places away from Santa's Gate, you've been looking at the Apple store not 75 yards away for 75 shivering minutes, and now you're auto-scanning your whereabouts for weapons and thinking: "If you try to close that gate, little elf, I'll rip the points off your ears."

Ah, the ghosts of Christmas future. What the hell are we thinking? I mean as a whole culture, one which has gone alarmingly insane and tells lies to our children, lies which don't even bother to have a purpose. The pagans who ran Samhain and went in for sacrificing Tiny Tim around the solstices, at least they had a plan. We've got sales and toys so frigging complicated you wonder if it's China taking a little prevenge on us for the opium wars. ("What? A 9-volt battery? Required to power a treaded race-bot that climbs walls? Sure. Got it right here. In my ass.") When I lost the Leatherman with the phillips-head screwdriver while surrounded by wires, styrofoam, cardboard boxes, those twisty cables you can't unwind and have to cut, and the 500 pieces of interlocking plastic (sorry to not be exaggerating) which have to go together somehow, first a panic, then a depressive funk, ensued. Lord Wife found the Leatherman after determined searching and we were like, "Christmas is saved!! Pass the Xanax."

I realize this is all sick, very sick. The best part is, there are children on their way here who think that chasing a Jack Russell terrier around the house with a rectal thermometer is the height of folly. A tradition, I kid you not, established last year. How do I get out of Christmas, or give it a purpose? I know it's supposed to be about giving, about Christ's birth, but maybe it should be more about holding back, and taking the lies about Christ out of it. Christ doesn't have a goddamned thing to do with Christmas. (Catholics, don't even try any of your weak Pope-ninja bullshit on me. I've been to midnight mass in Nuremburg's town square, Christmas headquarters, and Jesus was emphatically not there.) Maybe it should be about practical forgiveness, as in, "You know, you really got on my nerves this past year, and a couple times there I wanted to effin' kill you. Here! Have a Cuisinart, and let's treat each other better." Forgiveness. A way to start. First base to the home plate of not killing people.

Iz asked what Christianity was all about, given the crap they tried out on her in Episcopalian Sunday schools, not to mention the other religions with fraud and hypocrisy, i.e., just about all of them. Being an ex-missionary for Jesus, I'm supposed to still know. So I was provoked into a post-modern "Yes, Virginia" exchange. Here's part:

No, I don't mean Christ actually said anything. It could've been a mere construct, and there is no telling proof otherwise.

Yet if you look at the historical context, there are many (of his) quotes that don't fit preferred contemporary Jewish revolution or nascent Catholic/pagan order fantasies, and this seems to indicate actual statements of at least one provocative personality leaked through unexpunged. They are problematic for any organized religion, and largely ignored, yet they were left in. (Only a guess, but Jesus may have been an Essene, philosophers who traveled and studied in the East. Someones who came close to answering the desperate Jewish need for a Messiah who would deliver them from Roman occupation. But not close enough.)

Organized religions completely ignore quotes that don't neatly fit their purposes, but the Jesus texts are far more prolifically radical than Sunday schools acknowledge. For example there was not a word from the Jesus character about fire, nor brimstone, so Episcopal simply isn't "Christian" on that score.

It really doesn't matter if Jesus was a man, many men, or a god, the message was to reject the revenge-based mindset of Judaism and embrace a philosophy of self-actualization and positive action. Human desire for hiearchical control purposefully obscures the philosophy.

Jesus comes straight out and tells people, at one point, that if they wish to live immortally with god-capital-G, they all have to pick up and carry their own cross. No way around it, no easy answers, no blame, no Santa Claus. Here's Isabelita's reply, about as well put as can be:

I could accept that message, even in a religious context, if more so-called christians acted on it.

Amen, sister. I'll try to act more better, and hope you found more chocolate in that last Advent box.