Steven will be missed, but his posts here will live on.
Wednesday, August 26, 2015
The End
Sadly, the proprietor of this blog, Steven Searle, passed away in August of 2015. He wished to thank everyone who read his posts over the years. Steven was very proud of his blogs, and enthusiastic about politics, religion, and life in general. He lived the life he wanted to live, up to the very end.
Monday, June 15, 2015
My Atonement
Introduction
I am asking for your help as I'd indicated in my post at this link:
http://lotussutrachampions.blogspot.com/2015/05/a-bat-kitten-and-my-guilt.html
There is a section (the third of three) at the above link called "My Atonement," which starts to explain what I have in mind. The two sections below complete that explanation:
How you can help
Obtain a Cashier's Check or a Money Order for as much as you'd care to contribute, payable to:
Dr. Kyle Adkins
[He's affiliated with the Country Doc Veterinary Clinic in Minnesota.]
Send this to:
Laura Iancu
124 1st St, SW
Crosby, MN 56441
Laura will give Dr. Adkins the MOs/ Cashiers Checks as the need for his services arises, for the animals under her care. Contributions cannot be made "pay to the order of" Laura Iancu since her past credit history might subject such funds to seizure by creditors. This is why she does not use banking services such as checking and savings accounts.
I've used MoneyGram to send money to Laura. However, I do this because I know her and trust that she'll use these funds to help her animals. Since you don't know her, I came up with the method in the preceding paragraph.
To help in her mission to save her cats, Laura has sent up the "Rescue Me Now Foundation," with the EIN 47-3846698.
I am asking for your help as I'd indicated in my post at this link:
http://lotussutrachampions.blogspot.com/2015/05/a-bat-kitten-and-my-guilt.html
There is a section (the third of three) at the above link called "My Atonement," which starts to explain what I have in mind. The two sections below complete that explanation:
- How you can help
- Background
How you can help
Obtain a Cashier's Check or a Money Order for as much as you'd care to contribute, payable to:
Dr. Kyle Adkins
[He's affiliated with the Country Doc Veterinary Clinic in Minnesota.]
Send this to:
Laura Iancu
124 1st St, SW
Crosby, MN 56441
Laura will give Dr. Adkins the MOs/ Cashiers Checks as the need for his services arises, for the animals under her care. Contributions cannot be made "pay to the order of" Laura Iancu since her past credit history might subject such funds to seizure by creditors. This is why she does not use banking services such as checking and savings accounts.
I've used MoneyGram to send money to Laura. However, I do this because I know her and trust that she'll use these funds to help her animals. Since you don't know her, I came up with the method in the preceding paragraph.
To help in her mission to save her cats, Laura has sent up the "Rescue Me Now Foundation," with the EIN 47-3846698.
Background
As my unfolding karma would have it, in 2007 I invited Laura Iancu, homeless at that time, to move in with me. About six months earlier, our paths crossed for the first time in front of the Starbucks on Wilson and Lincoln in Chicago. She was selling Streetwise magazines at that location, which meant we'd see each other quite often since I lived in the neighborhood. Laura was chatty and so was I, so we were a good match.
Laura had gone to homeless shelters outside of the city up to 40 miles away because they were safer. She had lost her family and hope, not knowing if she was coming or going at times. But she knew she had to take it one day at a time. As I listened to the details of her life, I felt sympathetic. So I invited her to move into my apartment, since I lived alone and had way more space than I needed. Long story, short: We ended up living together for four and a half years, only as roommates - nothing physical.
Laura ended up moving to Minnesota in May of 2012 - eventually living with 30 cats but no human roommates. That's right - thirty. Most of them were rescues she'd found abandoned or injured. She gave each of them a name and would give me updates on the health issues of those who had fallen ill or died. Many she brought in had Leukemia and FIV/FIP. She has survivors who were born with it and today are over 2 years of age, including kittens born on Thanksgiving Day.
Over the years, I'd sent her money - over $12,000 in all. Which was a lot for me, since I'm not a rich man by any means. We stay in touch via e-mails and occasional phone calls. Turns out, much of the money I'd sent was used to feed and care for her cats, which included meds and veterinary care. I had no problem helping her out with her fur babies (as she calls them), since I felt a need to atone for the kitten I had tried to suffocate decades earlier. I wish she would have spent more of the money on herself, but she was more than satisfied shopping at dollar stores and going to charity food pantries to support her own needs.
Laura lives on disability, doing as much as she can with her limited resources to support herself and her cats. But life for her is still rough, even though I and a couple of other friends try to help out.
Now, some people might think, "Big deal, they're cats. So what?" My most prominent reason? They're important to Laura, so they're important to me. She even got angry when someone suggested that animals don't have souls. My 27 years of Buddhist practice put me in agreement with her on this issue.
So, I will continue to help Laura as much as I can. And I hope I can enlist your support as well.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Steven Searle, just another member of
The Virtual Samgha of the Lotus and
Former Candidate for USA President (in 2008 & 2012)
Contact me at bpa_cinc@yahoo.com
Sunday, June 7, 2015
Caitlyn Jenner
So now it's "Caitlyn" instead of Bruce. Out of idle curiosity, I looked up the meaning of the name "Caitlyn," and found it means "pure." I can only hope that CJ's motives are indeed pure and not inspired by a desire to bask in a blazing international spotlight. Her whole life, it seems, has been one continuous struggle to snag the public's attention. Could she really want that badly to appear, as Caitlyn, on a Wheaties box - just as Bruce Jenner did those decades ago? That would surely be an interesting way to recapture one's long lost youth.
How many interviews will CJ do? How many TV specials will generate how many millions of dollars? CJ says, for all intents and purposes, "I'm a woman." And yet, she considers herself asexual and has never been attracted to men. Those claims surely must be her attempt to redefine what a woman is - or at least what CJ's version of womanhood is.
I could have respected Bruce's decision to convert to Caitlyn had he done so anonymously. Or at least, had done so with a minimum of fanfare. But, no, Caitlyn decided to appear on the cover of Vanity Fair. Vanity Fair, eh? I guess that name speaks volumes as to the purity of Caitlyn's motives.
We live in a society which places a heavy value on personal choice. But I'm at a loss to figure out why a 65-year-old man wants to feminize himself. At that age, he's past his prime as far as the dating pool is concerned. So why'd he wait so long? By the way, I don't believe Bruce was never attracted to men, nor do I believe he'll hang onto his penis too much longer. Maybe she's being less than honest about these two issues - you know, the public can take only so much drama at once. Besides, why reveal any more now than you have to - future revelations will bring fresh waves of fame once her current intensity of fame peters out (pun intended)?
The Caitlyn revelations will make it harder to be a good parent. I mean, how do you explain to your twelve-year-old what this means? I had the same question after I read an article in the Chicago Reader about how to go about properly engaging in anal sex. This detailed article provoked my reaction: "No, this is not OK. Children have access to this magazine."
This whole sex and gender identification thing mystifies me as a practicing Buddhist. As I explained once to a hospital orderly who was interested in my views on Buddhism, "At a certain point in a Buddhist's practice, he doesn't have friends, he doesn't have lovers, he doesn't have significant others. What he does have are fellow compassionate seekers of enlightenment with whom he can practice and try to convert others."
Some will point out, "The Buddha had a wife and had sex which produced a child." Yes, he did have a wife, but he didn't necessarily need to have sex to produce a child. There is such a thing, in the Buddhist canon, of being born by means of transformation (that is, sexual contact not being necessary). It is widely assumed that the Buddha was male. However, that's mere assumption, or an image the Buddha wished to convey, since "he" was a shapeshifter. I'll bet that if one of the Buddha's disciples had managed to sneak up behind him and pull up his robe, he wouldn't have seen any genitalia at all.
As a closing note, I noticed Caitlyn's fabulous hair on that Vanity Fair cover. I could never understand the fixation that women the world over have with long, luxuriant hair. I'd like to know the karmic significance of this, for hair surely can't be that important, can it? For what it's worth, my preference is for bald women or those who have only a bare amount. Such women are either Buddhist nuns or suffering from cancer. I say a prayer in either case and lust after neither.
I also say a prayer for Caitlyn, hoping she indeed is purely motivated.
Steven Searle, just another member of
The Virtual Samgha of the Lotus and
Former Candidate for USA President (in 2008 & 2012)
Contact me at bpa_cinc@yahoo.com
How many interviews will CJ do? How many TV specials will generate how many millions of dollars? CJ says, for all intents and purposes, "I'm a woman." And yet, she considers herself asexual and has never been attracted to men. Those claims surely must be her attempt to redefine what a woman is - or at least what CJ's version of womanhood is.
I could have respected Bruce's decision to convert to Caitlyn had he done so anonymously. Or at least, had done so with a minimum of fanfare. But, no, Caitlyn decided to appear on the cover of Vanity Fair. Vanity Fair, eh? I guess that name speaks volumes as to the purity of Caitlyn's motives.
We live in a society which places a heavy value on personal choice. But I'm at a loss to figure out why a 65-year-old man wants to feminize himself. At that age, he's past his prime as far as the dating pool is concerned. So why'd he wait so long? By the way, I don't believe Bruce was never attracted to men, nor do I believe he'll hang onto his penis too much longer. Maybe she's being less than honest about these two issues - you know, the public can take only so much drama at once. Besides, why reveal any more now than you have to - future revelations will bring fresh waves of fame once her current intensity of fame peters out (pun intended)?
The Caitlyn revelations will make it harder to be a good parent. I mean, how do you explain to your twelve-year-old what this means? I had the same question after I read an article in the Chicago Reader about how to go about properly engaging in anal sex. This detailed article provoked my reaction: "No, this is not OK. Children have access to this magazine."
This whole sex and gender identification thing mystifies me as a practicing Buddhist. As I explained once to a hospital orderly who was interested in my views on Buddhism, "At a certain point in a Buddhist's practice, he doesn't have friends, he doesn't have lovers, he doesn't have significant others. What he does have are fellow compassionate seekers of enlightenment with whom he can practice and try to convert others."
Some will point out, "The Buddha had a wife and had sex which produced a child." Yes, he did have a wife, but he didn't necessarily need to have sex to produce a child. There is such a thing, in the Buddhist canon, of being born by means of transformation (that is, sexual contact not being necessary). It is widely assumed that the Buddha was male. However, that's mere assumption, or an image the Buddha wished to convey, since "he" was a shapeshifter. I'll bet that if one of the Buddha's disciples had managed to sneak up behind him and pull up his robe, he wouldn't have seen any genitalia at all.
As a closing note, I noticed Caitlyn's fabulous hair on that Vanity Fair cover. I could never understand the fixation that women the world over have with long, luxuriant hair. I'd like to know the karmic significance of this, for hair surely can't be that important, can it? For what it's worth, my preference is for bald women or those who have only a bare amount. Such women are either Buddhist nuns or suffering from cancer. I say a prayer in either case and lust after neither.
I also say a prayer for Caitlyn, hoping she indeed is purely motivated.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Virtual Samgha of the Lotus and
Former Candidate for USA President (in 2008 & 2012)
Contact me at bpa_cinc@yahoo.com
Sunday, May 31, 2015
You heard something once
You heard something once,
or part of something you felt was profound.
Crowded sidewalk on a breezy, beautiful, sunny day in the city,
when you heard him say it to a friend.
You stopped in your tracks, focused and saw his face briefly.
Briefly but clearly.
That face you'd never forget over the decades.
You saw him turn a corner and ran to catch up.
You turned that corner and he was...
gone...
forever.
Handsome young man about your age - 20-something.
You wiped away a tear from the corner of your eye,
and you mumbled to yourself so
you'd remember what you were able to hear.
"This is important," you said in dedication under your breath.
"I would give anything to hear the rest and to
ask him some questions."
True enough...it's rare to hear anything profound these days.
Or those days, I should say.
Or on any day - past or present.
Forty years ago...could it have been so long?
Many times you walked where you'd last seen him, hoping
to see him again.
But, no, he never presented himself.
Today you walk with me and tell me about these words from
that distant prophet. For the millionth time, it seems. I admit,
like I've always done,
that I too would have liked to have heard
the whole thing.
We pass a park filled with small audiences for a few public speakers.
Yet another breezy, beautiful, sunny day.
This is a well known spot for such goings-on.
"It's okay," you reassure. "The police don't bother anyone here
like they used to. Not even undercover."
"Right," I agree. "They've got things under control, more than anyone
dreamed possible."
Why do you stop so suddenly? "It's him!" you whisper, pointing to
one young man on a soapbox.
"Can't be," I said. "Look at him - he's way too young - in his 20's, I'd say."
I follow as you walk over, squinting your eyes to take him in.
"Sure looks like him," you caution. "And sounds like him. But...he's too young."
And yet, he speaks to the small group of strangers, using those words you'd
told me about all these years.
But of course it can't be him. Too young...unless.
"Say, do you believe in miracles,
like someone can stay young
forever?"
You ask me, sounding so hopeful.
Then you freeze again as your gaze drifts behind
the young speaker to a man who must surely be
his father. He aged just like you thought he would.
He looks so poor, though: Shabby, unkempt, old suit.
Life didn't mark him as a man of wealth.
But he looks so happy, like he managed to learn a
few more secrets above and beyond what you'd heard
once upon a time.
It's okay - go ahead and cry.
or part of something you felt was profound.
Crowded sidewalk on a breezy, beautiful, sunny day in the city,
when you heard him say it to a friend.
You stopped in your tracks, focused and saw his face briefly.
Briefly but clearly.
That face you'd never forget over the decades.
You saw him turn a corner and ran to catch up.
You turned that corner and he was...
gone...
forever.
Handsome young man about your age - 20-something.
You wiped away a tear from the corner of your eye,
and you mumbled to yourself so
you'd remember what you were able to hear.
"This is important," you said in dedication under your breath.
"I would give anything to hear the rest and to
ask him some questions."
True enough...it's rare to hear anything profound these days.
Or those days, I should say.
Or on any day - past or present.
Forty years ago...could it have been so long?
Many times you walked where you'd last seen him, hoping
to see him again.
But, no, he never presented himself.
Today you walk with me and tell me about these words from
that distant prophet. For the millionth time, it seems. I admit,
like I've always done,
that I too would have liked to have heard
the whole thing.
We pass a park filled with small audiences for a few public speakers.
Yet another breezy, beautiful, sunny day.
This is a well known spot for such goings-on.
"It's okay," you reassure. "The police don't bother anyone here
like they used to. Not even undercover."
"Right," I agree. "They've got things under control, more than anyone
dreamed possible."
Why do you stop so suddenly? "It's him!" you whisper, pointing to
one young man on a soapbox.
"Can't be," I said. "Look at him - he's way too young - in his 20's, I'd say."
I follow as you walk over, squinting your eyes to take him in.
"Sure looks like him," you caution. "And sounds like him. But...he's too young."
And yet, he speaks to the small group of strangers, using those words you'd
told me about all these years.
But of course it can't be him. Too young...unless.
"Say, do you believe in miracles,
like someone can stay young
forever?"
You ask me, sounding so hopeful.
Then you freeze again as your gaze drifts behind
the young speaker to a man who must surely be
his father. He aged just like you thought he would.
He looks so poor, though: Shabby, unkempt, old suit.
Life didn't mark him as a man of wealth.
But he looks so happy, like he managed to learn a
few more secrets above and beyond what you'd heard
once upon a time.
It's okay - go ahead and cry.
Wednesday, May 20, 2015
Dzhokhar Tsarnaev: Crime & Punishment
Introduction
Boston Marathon bomber, Dzhokhar Tsarnaev (age 21), was sentenced to death on May 15, 2015. This inspires several reactions from me, which I'll open with the two quotes below.
Two Quotes
I recently posted these comments on-line.
QUOTE:
If DT finds Jesus* and accepts Him as his Savior, then when he dies, he'll be admitted to heaven. That's the Christian view. The Buddhist view is that he'll suffer exactly as each of his victims did over the appropriate number of reincarnations. And saying magical words like "Jesus forgive me" won't cut it. Same as what is happening to Hitler - he killed 6 million Jews, he'll be murdered 6 million times [for those crimes].
The hard part of the Buddhist view: There is no such thing as an innocent victim. DT's victims, even those most innocent in this life, paid the price for sins committed in past lives. As a result, their karmic burdens will be that much lighter in their future lives.
[finds Jesus* - yes, I know DT is a Muslim]
:UNQUOTE.
QUOTE:
So that's it, eh? Killing DT will bring back his victims? Or somehow cause missing limbs to reappear? Or give "justice" to those wronged? Face it: When most people say they want to see the cause of justice served, what they really want is revenge. The death penalty is barbaric and lessens our own nobility in its continued practice. If you really want justice, don't worry: DT will pay the karmic price for what he did. Putting him in jail for life serves [only] the [practical] purpose of keeping him from doing any more harm to society[, but in no way represents suitable punishment].
:UNQUOTE.
A Fair Trial?
First of all, it won't matter if Tsarnaev didn't get a fair trial. No judge is going to admit that and order a new trial. That's just not going to happen. Any appellate judge would be thinking, "Why order a new trial? Since the case against Tsarnaev was so strong, any new trial would also produce guilty verdicts."
Now that I got that out of the way, I'll say: This young man did not get a fair trial. DT's defense argued that the trial should be moved to Washington, DC - that holding it in Boston would be prejudicial to their client. I have to agree with the defense on this one, as this is a no-brainer. The judge had no defensible reason for insisting the trial be held in Boston. Of course, the fact that there weren't any Blacks on the jury was probably very much to his liking. He simply acted on the basis of imperial judicial prerogative.
Then there's the issue of jury selection. If someone said they opposed the death penalty, then they were automatically excluded from the jury. It would have taken only one juror opposing the death penalty for that option to fail - life imprisonment being the default option. The general population of Boston opposes the death penalty.* So to insist that only the minority who support that option could sit on this jury denies the majority. Why does the state get to make this decision? Many people oppose the death penalty for religious reasons, especially in very Catholic Boston.
Since the First Amendment bars the favoring of one religious view over another, Catholics in this case were discriminated against. In fact, if I were a Catholic about to be so disenfranchised, I would have sued for the right to be empanelled on this jury.
Citizens of the USA pride themselves on having a sense of fair play. However, outside observers would have to shake their heads in disapproval when our hypocrisy raises its ugly head as it has in this case.
The Death Penalty vs. The "Death" Penalty
The death penalty simply refers to executing a prisoner. The "death" penalty refers to the psychological death brought about by prolonged time spent behind bars in solitary confinement.
If Tsarnaev had been sentenced to life imprisonment, he most assuredly would have ended up in solitary to ensure his own safety against the wrath of the general prison population. It's about time we abolished solitary confinement, instead recognizing it for what it is - torture. While it might be unwise, in cases like Tsarnaev's, to enable direct contact with other prisoners, there's no reason why some type of indirect contact (e.g, by using a fence in the exercise area) couldn't be allowed.
Access to the internet and books should also be allowed. As for communication with the outside world (via the internet or written letters), DT should be permitted as is his due under the free speech provisions of the First Amendment. However, should he even once engage in prohibited speech on the internet, his access would be reduced to "read only."
As long as the condemned is in our care, we should make some respectable effort toward his personal development. Who knows? Maybe, in some way or another, he will find salvation, if not necessarily through Jesus. Even so, sad to say, there will always be those who will refuse to forgive and will insist on continued punishment.
As for the death penalty: it should be abolished, as it has been in the European Union. However, I don't believe execution is unconstitutional, though it is a bad idea that shines an embarrassing light on our baser nature. It also doesn't do much for our collective karma.
There are USA Christian conservatives who champion capital punishment, citing "an eye for an eye." These are the same people who also preach the sanctity of life when arguing against abortion. But their sin is even greater than such hypocrisy. For once a person is executed, he has no more chance to repent and accept Jesus (or Anything or Anybody else) as Savior. However, a life sentence would give the condemned as many chances as a natural lifespan could confer.
Steven Searle, just another member of
The Virtual Samgha of the Lotus and
Former Candidate for USA President (in 2008 & 2012)
Contact me at bpa_cinc@yahoo.com
Footnote:
opposes the death penalty.* -
QUOTE:
BOSTON — Despite this city’s immersion in a trial that is replaying the horrific details of the 2013 Boston Marathon bombing, the vast majority of Bostonians say in a new poll that if Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, the admitted bomber, is found guilty, he should be sent to prison for life and not condemned to death.
:UNQUOTE [by Katharine Q. Seelye, March 23, 2015]
source:
http://www.nytimes.com/2015/03/24/us/most-boston-residents-prefer-life-term-over-death-penalty-in-marathon-case-poll-shows.html?_r=0
Boston Marathon bomber, Dzhokhar Tsarnaev (age 21), was sentenced to death on May 15, 2015. This inspires several reactions from me, which I'll open with the two quotes below.
Two Quotes
I recently posted these comments on-line.
QUOTE:
If DT finds Jesus* and accepts Him as his Savior, then when he dies, he'll be admitted to heaven. That's the Christian view. The Buddhist view is that he'll suffer exactly as each of his victims did over the appropriate number of reincarnations. And saying magical words like "Jesus forgive me" won't cut it. Same as what is happening to Hitler - he killed 6 million Jews, he'll be murdered 6 million times [for those crimes].
The hard part of the Buddhist view: There is no such thing as an innocent victim. DT's victims, even those most innocent in this life, paid the price for sins committed in past lives. As a result, their karmic burdens will be that much lighter in their future lives.
[finds Jesus* - yes, I know DT is a Muslim]
:UNQUOTE.
QUOTE:
So that's it, eh? Killing DT will bring back his victims? Or somehow cause missing limbs to reappear? Or give "justice" to those wronged? Face it: When most people say they want to see the cause of justice served, what they really want is revenge. The death penalty is barbaric and lessens our own nobility in its continued practice. If you really want justice, don't worry: DT will pay the karmic price for what he did. Putting him in jail for life serves [only] the [practical] purpose of keeping him from doing any more harm to society[, but in no way represents suitable punishment].
:UNQUOTE.
A Fair Trial?
First of all, it won't matter if Tsarnaev didn't get a fair trial. No judge is going to admit that and order a new trial. That's just not going to happen. Any appellate judge would be thinking, "Why order a new trial? Since the case against Tsarnaev was so strong, any new trial would also produce guilty verdicts."
Now that I got that out of the way, I'll say: This young man did not get a fair trial. DT's defense argued that the trial should be moved to Washington, DC - that holding it in Boston would be prejudicial to their client. I have to agree with the defense on this one, as this is a no-brainer. The judge had no defensible reason for insisting the trial be held in Boston. Of course, the fact that there weren't any Blacks on the jury was probably very much to his liking. He simply acted on the basis of imperial judicial prerogative.
Then there's the issue of jury selection. If someone said they opposed the death penalty, then they were automatically excluded from the jury. It would have taken only one juror opposing the death penalty for that option to fail - life imprisonment being the default option. The general population of Boston opposes the death penalty.* So to insist that only the minority who support that option could sit on this jury denies the majority. Why does the state get to make this decision? Many people oppose the death penalty for religious reasons, especially in very Catholic Boston.
Since the First Amendment bars the favoring of one religious view over another, Catholics in this case were discriminated against. In fact, if I were a Catholic about to be so disenfranchised, I would have sued for the right to be empanelled on this jury.
Citizens of the USA pride themselves on having a sense of fair play. However, outside observers would have to shake their heads in disapproval when our hypocrisy raises its ugly head as it has in this case.
The Death Penalty vs. The "Death" Penalty
The death penalty simply refers to executing a prisoner. The "death" penalty refers to the psychological death brought about by prolonged time spent behind bars in solitary confinement.
If Tsarnaev had been sentenced to life imprisonment, he most assuredly would have ended up in solitary to ensure his own safety against the wrath of the general prison population. It's about time we abolished solitary confinement, instead recognizing it for what it is - torture. While it might be unwise, in cases like Tsarnaev's, to enable direct contact with other prisoners, there's no reason why some type of indirect contact (e.g, by using a fence in the exercise area) couldn't be allowed.
Access to the internet and books should also be allowed. As for communication with the outside world (via the internet or written letters), DT should be permitted as is his due under the free speech provisions of the First Amendment. However, should he even once engage in prohibited speech on the internet, his access would be reduced to "read only."
As long as the condemned is in our care, we should make some respectable effort toward his personal development. Who knows? Maybe, in some way or another, he will find salvation, if not necessarily through Jesus. Even so, sad to say, there will always be those who will refuse to forgive and will insist on continued punishment.
As for the death penalty: it should be abolished, as it has been in the European Union. However, I don't believe execution is unconstitutional, though it is a bad idea that shines an embarrassing light on our baser nature. It also doesn't do much for our collective karma.
There are USA Christian conservatives who champion capital punishment, citing "an eye for an eye." These are the same people who also preach the sanctity of life when arguing against abortion. But their sin is even greater than such hypocrisy. For once a person is executed, he has no more chance to repent and accept Jesus (or Anything or Anybody else) as Savior. However, a life sentence would give the condemned as many chances as a natural lifespan could confer.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Steven Searle, just another member of
The Virtual Samgha of the Lotus and
Former Candidate for USA President (in 2008 & 2012)
Contact me at bpa_cinc@yahoo.com
Footnote:
opposes the death penalty.* -
QUOTE:
BOSTON — Despite this city’s immersion in a trial that is replaying the horrific details of the 2013 Boston Marathon bombing, the vast majority of Bostonians say in a new poll that if Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, the admitted bomber, is found guilty, he should be sent to prison for life and not condemned to death.
:UNQUOTE [by Katharine Q. Seelye, March 23, 2015]
source:
http://www.nytimes.com/2015/03/24/us/most-boston-residents-prefer-life-term-over-death-penalty-in-marathon-case-poll-shows.html?_r=0
Wednesday, May 13, 2015
Tubes that belch fire
"They're nothing more than tubes that belch fire. How impressive could this possibly be?"
That's what my guru said, when I tried to boast of our grand technology. And why not, for instance, boast about our space program, in which my wife plays a prominent role? She's been with NASA for 20 years and is obviously proud of what she and her teams have accomplished.
As for me? I have been house husband for our three children, working only sporadically as a web designer over the last ten years. After our kids got older, I found I had more time on my hands, so I got involved with Buddhism. Meditation came naturally to me, but I wondered if I would ever actually attain any indisputable degree of enlightenment. Or was all my study and effort to prove only interesting but useless?
After my guru had taken me on a trip to a galaxy far, far away, however, my doubts gave way to exhilaration. Especially since that round trip had taken far less than an hour without using any kind of spacecraft. Equally impressive: How I was, from that galaxy, able to see inside one of our space probes which had recently landed on Mars?
* * * * * * *
My galactic trip took place the same evening I shamelessly tried to bait my teacher. He always seemed so genuinely and deeply tranquil as if nothing could bother him at all. And that bothered me! After his weekly meditation class ended and all of the other students went home, I lingered to talk to him. One of the items I brought up was our life span - which in the United States rarely exceeds 100 years.
"Teacher, 100 years sounds like a lot - especially when compared to life in other countries here on earth. But Buddhist scripture speaks of distant lands in which the average life span consists of billions of years."
"Then you also know that an average life span of less than 100 years, within any given realm, is considered to be a sign of the extremely negative karma shared by all its citizens."
"I don't get it. In those other lands where life lasts so long, why doesn't scripture boast of the wondrous technology such beings surely must have developed? I mean, look at our country. We're able to travel to other planets using vehicles unimaginable 100 years ago."
And that's when my teacher said, "They're nothing more than tubes that belch fire. How impressive could this possibly be?"
Then I thought of my wife, who had worked so long and hard to help bring these "belchers," step by step, into existence. I thought of the great minds that had solved so many difficult problems to get us to where we are today. Then I asked, "What would you consider to be impressive?"
He smiled and said, "The important question is, what would you consider to be impressive? I assure you: Anything you might consider to be impressive, I would regard as commonplace."
When he saw my confusion, he said, "Take my hand and I will show you." This I did and within a few minutes, which felt like an eternity, we had levitated a foot or so above the floor. I felt like a ship which had lost its anchor and was desperate for security. I said, "Wow," and my teacher said, "Relax and tell me, do you find this to be impressive?"
"Without a doubt." And then we started to rise toward the ceiling and I worried about bumping my head. "Stand up straight, you've nothing to fear."
Just as my head was about to hit the ceiling, we accelerated to a point high above the earth where there aren't any clouds, it's cold, and the air is too thin to breathe. But the view is spectacular. I didn't feel the cold and I didn't feel short of breath. When my teacher told me to stop breathing because my current body didn't really need air or even food for that matter, I did so without feeling the panic of an asphyxiated man.
"How's this for impressive?"
"Not too shabby," I joked.
"How about this?"
As soon as the hissing sound of his "this" had faded, I found myself - still holding his hand - standing on the moon looking "down" on earth. I didn't feel any panic because there seemed to be a transmittable tranquility that passed from his hand, soothing my entire body.
"You see, it's possible to travel quickly and distantly without the use of any kind of fire-belchers."
"What if I wanted to bring stuff with me, more than I could possibly carry? Wouldn't I need a ship for that?"
"In your current form, you wouldn't need anything. But if you want to indulge, just conjure up what you wish."
"You mean, like magic?"
"There is no such thing as magic. When people call something 'magical,' that's simply because they don't understand the forces that bring that something into being. Go ahead, try to conjure up some kind of dwelling on yonder plain."
So I focused, trying to envision a tree house complete with a tree. And there it appeared - and then disappeared just as quickly when I decided I'd seen enough and wished it gone.
"And now for yet another step on your journey." We disappeared from the moon's surface and, in the twinkling of an eye, found ourselves well within the galaxy BDF-3299. That's about 13 billion light-years from earth. Again, I felt no need to breathe, and didn't feel intense heat. I should have felt the latter, since we were both in the dead center of a blazing star!
My teacher said, "Now, look carefully at Mars, specifically inside the probe your wife's team recently landed there. And memorize all that you notice. Later, run this information, much of which is highly classified, by your wife and see how she reacts."
"But Mars is so far away, and you want me to look inside this probe?"
"Don't worry, with the kind of vision attained by highly skilled practitioners, they can see without being hindered by distance, darkness - or even an over-abundance of light - or obstructions. Go ahead, look. And memorize everything."
I this from a 13 billion light-year distance. Having completed my inventory, I soon found myself - still hand-in-hand with my guru - standing just outside our Martian probe. And just as quickly, back where we had started this journey - feet planted firmly on the floor of his studio.
* * * * * * * * *
I told my wife what I had seen inside the probe and asked her to compare my information to her records. I didn't, however, tell her how I had acquired my knowledge. I lied, saying I had read the minds of members of her team, while scrupulously avoiding her own mind. Before I ran any of this by my wife, I swore her to secrecy. Needless to say, she looked stunned, barely managing to ask how I had acquired this ability.
I told her that I wasn't really sure I myself had this ability. That perhaps my guru had temporarily shared his own ability with me - to give me a taste of what was really impressive but would soon come to be felt by me as commonplace. I shared with her one of the lessons I'd learned, "Technology isn't as important as compassion, and patiently and consistently practicing the teachings. And when a person reaches ever higher levels of development, to avoid the trap of arrogance."
My wife decided to engage in Buddhist practice, asking me if I would recommend my guru. I laughed and said, "Sure. Some gurus are better than others - and this one ranks pretty high up there." So she joined me in practicing with my teacher, though neither of us breathed a word of what we knew. Not to our teacher, or the other students, or to anybody else for that matter. We didn't even discuss it between ourselves.
That's what my guru said, when I tried to boast of our grand technology. And why not, for instance, boast about our space program, in which my wife plays a prominent role? She's been with NASA for 20 years and is obviously proud of what she and her teams have accomplished.
As for me? I have been house husband for our three children, working only sporadically as a web designer over the last ten years. After our kids got older, I found I had more time on my hands, so I got involved with Buddhism. Meditation came naturally to me, but I wondered if I would ever actually attain any indisputable degree of enlightenment. Or was all my study and effort to prove only interesting but useless?
After my guru had taken me on a trip to a galaxy far, far away, however, my doubts gave way to exhilaration. Especially since that round trip had taken far less than an hour without using any kind of spacecraft. Equally impressive: How I was, from that galaxy, able to see inside one of our space probes which had recently landed on Mars?
* * * * * * *
My galactic trip took place the same evening I shamelessly tried to bait my teacher. He always seemed so genuinely and deeply tranquil as if nothing could bother him at all. And that bothered me! After his weekly meditation class ended and all of the other students went home, I lingered to talk to him. One of the items I brought up was our life span - which in the United States rarely exceeds 100 years.
"Teacher, 100 years sounds like a lot - especially when compared to life in other countries here on earth. But Buddhist scripture speaks of distant lands in which the average life span consists of billions of years."
"Then you also know that an average life span of less than 100 years, within any given realm, is considered to be a sign of the extremely negative karma shared by all its citizens."
"I don't get it. In those other lands where life lasts so long, why doesn't scripture boast of the wondrous technology such beings surely must have developed? I mean, look at our country. We're able to travel to other planets using vehicles unimaginable 100 years ago."
And that's when my teacher said, "They're nothing more than tubes that belch fire. How impressive could this possibly be?"
Then I thought of my wife, who had worked so long and hard to help bring these "belchers," step by step, into existence. I thought of the great minds that had solved so many difficult problems to get us to where we are today. Then I asked, "What would you consider to be impressive?"
He smiled and said, "The important question is, what would you consider to be impressive? I assure you: Anything you might consider to be impressive, I would regard as commonplace."
When he saw my confusion, he said, "Take my hand and I will show you." This I did and within a few minutes, which felt like an eternity, we had levitated a foot or so above the floor. I felt like a ship which had lost its anchor and was desperate for security. I said, "Wow," and my teacher said, "Relax and tell me, do you find this to be impressive?"
"Without a doubt." And then we started to rise toward the ceiling and I worried about bumping my head. "Stand up straight, you've nothing to fear."
Just as my head was about to hit the ceiling, we accelerated to a point high above the earth where there aren't any clouds, it's cold, and the air is too thin to breathe. But the view is spectacular. I didn't feel the cold and I didn't feel short of breath. When my teacher told me to stop breathing because my current body didn't really need air or even food for that matter, I did so without feeling the panic of an asphyxiated man.
"How's this for impressive?"
"Not too shabby," I joked.
"How about this?"
As soon as the hissing sound of his "this" had faded, I found myself - still holding his hand - standing on the moon looking "down" on earth. I didn't feel any panic because there seemed to be a transmittable tranquility that passed from his hand, soothing my entire body.
"You see, it's possible to travel quickly and distantly without the use of any kind of fire-belchers."
"What if I wanted to bring stuff with me, more than I could possibly carry? Wouldn't I need a ship for that?"
"In your current form, you wouldn't need anything. But if you want to indulge, just conjure up what you wish."
"You mean, like magic?"
"There is no such thing as magic. When people call something 'magical,' that's simply because they don't understand the forces that bring that something into being. Go ahead, try to conjure up some kind of dwelling on yonder plain."
So I focused, trying to envision a tree house complete with a tree. And there it appeared - and then disappeared just as quickly when I decided I'd seen enough and wished it gone.
"And now for yet another step on your journey." We disappeared from the moon's surface and, in the twinkling of an eye, found ourselves well within the galaxy BDF-3299. That's about 13 billion light-years from earth. Again, I felt no need to breathe, and didn't feel intense heat. I should have felt the latter, since we were both in the dead center of a blazing star!
My teacher said, "Now, look carefully at Mars, specifically inside the probe your wife's team recently landed there. And memorize all that you notice. Later, run this information, much of which is highly classified, by your wife and see how she reacts."
"But Mars is so far away, and you want me to look inside this probe?"
"Don't worry, with the kind of vision attained by highly skilled practitioners, they can see without being hindered by distance, darkness - or even an over-abundance of light - or obstructions. Go ahead, look. And memorize everything."
I this from a 13 billion light-year distance. Having completed my inventory, I soon found myself - still hand-in-hand with my guru - standing just outside our Martian probe. And just as quickly, back where we had started this journey - feet planted firmly on the floor of his studio.
* * * * * * * * *
I told my wife what I had seen inside the probe and asked her to compare my information to her records. I didn't, however, tell her how I had acquired my knowledge. I lied, saying I had read the minds of members of her team, while scrupulously avoiding her own mind. Before I ran any of this by my wife, I swore her to secrecy. Needless to say, she looked stunned, barely managing to ask how I had acquired this ability.
I told her that I wasn't really sure I myself had this ability. That perhaps my guru had temporarily shared his own ability with me - to give me a taste of what was really impressive but would soon come to be felt by me as commonplace. I shared with her one of the lessons I'd learned, "Technology isn't as important as compassion, and patiently and consistently practicing the teachings. And when a person reaches ever higher levels of development, to avoid the trap of arrogance."
My wife decided to engage in Buddhist practice, asking me if I would recommend my guru. I laughed and said, "Sure. Some gurus are better than others - and this one ranks pretty high up there." So she joined me in practicing with my teacher, though neither of us breathed a word of what we knew. Not to our teacher, or the other students, or to anybody else for that matter. We didn't even discuss it between ourselves.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Steven Searle, just another member of
The Virtual Samgha of the Lotus and
Former Candidate for President of the USA (in 2008 & 2012)
Contact me at bpa_cinc@yahoo.com
Thursday, May 7, 2015
A bat, a kitten, and my guilt
Today, I'm going to share with you how I (and an accomplice) murdered a bat about 14 years ago - poor, tiny little thing. Then there's the kitten I tried to smother 38 years ago - without an accomplice. Then I conclude by asking for your help in my quest for atonement.
I entitle these three sections as follows:
The bat
Around 2001, I was living in a 3-bedroom flat with my roommate, a fellow Buddhist. We'd lived together for 3 years, without any kind of physical relationship. On a warm spring evening, she was working in the third bedroom, which she used as an office. Then she knocked on my door and said something was in her office. So I followed her and saw what she was pointing at - a small bat hanging upside down near the top of her window.
I kept an eye on it as she went upstairs to alert the landlords - an ancient couple who'd owned and lived in this two-flat since 1947. They had worked for the archdiocese for decades until they retired. So there we were: four religious people in one room, staring up at a bat and wondering what to do. I came up with the idea of using a colander as a kind of butterfly net to snare our unwelcome guest.
The two women left the room as the old man climbed up on a chair to shoo the bat in my direction. Sure enough, it started flying around the room, looking especially large because of my fear. It wasn't long before I trapped it, sliding a piece of cardboard over the top to prevent escape. I wasn't sure what we should do next, but the old woman said we couldn't release it outside because it would only come back. I assumed she was talking about some kind of homing instinct.
So the old man and I took the imprisoned bat down to the basement. There was a sink near the washing machine. We let the water run from its faucet so it would run through the colander, which I was holding. The idea was to drown the bat. I don't know which of the two of us came up with this idea, though I hope it wasn't me. It sounds too horrible even now, decades later, as I type this confession. I remember the poor bat screeching for its very life as the water cascaded through its cage. And yet, that wasn't enough to stop me from doing this evil deed.
For good measure, I totally immersed the bat, still imprisoned but now totally silent, under the water which had by this time more than half-filled the sink.
I held the colander in place for what seemed like an eternity. Maybe I was afraid the poor animal wouldn't be dead and would try to attack us once released. Within a few minutes, I brought the drowned bat up to the surface and laid it out on the counter top. Tears started to fill my eyes - it looked so small and helpless and beautiful, its black fur glistening from its soaking. The old man scooped it up and took it outside to the alley, when a garbage can of a coffin waited for it.
I didn't ask, but I'm sure the old man made sure the lid was secured so the bat wouldn't have been able to make its way back into his building - assuming it would have somehow come back to life.
The kitten
This sad mark on my karma began when one of my roommates brought a kitten home. There were four of us young men in our early 20's, all Buddhists, sharing this apartment. We got along reasonably well until the most recent addition to our household brought a kitten to live with us. I was highly pissed that he didn't ask any of us, in advance, if this fifth roommate would be welcome. Some people don't like cats and others are allergic to them. Some would insist that the owner swear up and down to take care of their pet - you know, like regularly cleaning out its litter box.
My irritation grew when I was home alone standing in front of a window, gazing mindlessly at the street below, when this kitten ran up behind me, took a flying leap, and dug its claws into my calf - clinging for dear life. I shook it loose, my anger at the owner spiking. Thinking about it now, I guess it's true what they say: "Animals know." The kitten probably picked up on my anti-cat (or anti-cat owner) attitude.
Not long after this incident, all four of us moved out - me being the first to go. A few weeks later, I returned to pick up a small item I'd forgotten. All of my roommates' belongings were gone - except for the kitten. It walked up to me slowly - limping and obviously starving, not having been fed for days or a week or... The owner had abandoned it in the locked apartment, not even having had the decency to set it free.
This is what I wish I would have done: After petting it and saying a few reassuring words, then going to a nearby store to buy a can of cat food and a bowl for water.
But, to my very great shame, I didn't do that. I thought to put it out of its misery by grabbing a plastic bag and putting the poor creature into it to suffocate. Kitten surprised me by putting up a heroic struggle. So I let it out of the bag and left. To this day, I can't say why I tried to kill a poor, defenseless animal. Maybe it had to do with a whole bunch of negative emotions that welled up having to do with why I had recently quit the Buddhist group of which I had been a member for two-and-a-half years. Many of my experiences with that group had been bitter - or at least bittersweet. Maybe that's why I took it out on this poor kitten.
Still, no excuse.
I later told an old friend what I did, trying to put positive spin by saying I at least let it live - hoping the owner would come back for his pet. My friend said, "Since your lease is up now, the building super will have inspected the apartment by now. As soon as he saw the cat, he'd have taken it to the basement to throw into the furnace. Supers hate cats."
My atonement
I am currently working on the form my atonement should take, and how you might be able to help. My idea is to, somehow, work out a way that financial contributions could be directed to a friend of mine in Minnesota who runs a shelter for cats. There are technical reasons why she can't use Pay Pal or any other type of on-line method, which I'll explain in a future post. I will entitle that piece "My Atonement" and link it to this post.
Hopefully, I'll post "My Atonement" within the next few weeks.
My friend lives in a small house in a rural community - alone, except for the 30 cats she's rescued over the last few years. I try to help her care for her fur babies as best I can, but as a retiree I'm on a fixed income. Still, when I was paid a one-time windfall of $12,000 by my employer of 31 years, I farmed it out to her over the last two years as expenses started to mount to care for her cats.
If I can help care for these cats, including veterinary care, I hope that will lessen my karmic retribution. With that goal in mind, I stopped eating meat over a year ago. And I pray for the bat, the kitten, and any others - including people - I've abused in any way.
Steven Searle, just another member of
The Virtual Samgha of the Lotus and
Former Candidate for USA President (in 2008 & 2012)
Contact me at bpa_cinc@yahoo.com
I entitle these three sections as follows:
- The bat
- The kitten
- My atonement
The bat
Around 2001, I was living in a 3-bedroom flat with my roommate, a fellow Buddhist. We'd lived together for 3 years, without any kind of physical relationship. On a warm spring evening, she was working in the third bedroom, which she used as an office. Then she knocked on my door and said something was in her office. So I followed her and saw what she was pointing at - a small bat hanging upside down near the top of her window.
I kept an eye on it as she went upstairs to alert the landlords - an ancient couple who'd owned and lived in this two-flat since 1947. They had worked for the archdiocese for decades until they retired. So there we were: four religious people in one room, staring up at a bat and wondering what to do. I came up with the idea of using a colander as a kind of butterfly net to snare our unwelcome guest.
The two women left the room as the old man climbed up on a chair to shoo the bat in my direction. Sure enough, it started flying around the room, looking especially large because of my fear. It wasn't long before I trapped it, sliding a piece of cardboard over the top to prevent escape. I wasn't sure what we should do next, but the old woman said we couldn't release it outside because it would only come back. I assumed she was talking about some kind of homing instinct.
So the old man and I took the imprisoned bat down to the basement. There was a sink near the washing machine. We let the water run from its faucet so it would run through the colander, which I was holding. The idea was to drown the bat. I don't know which of the two of us came up with this idea, though I hope it wasn't me. It sounds too horrible even now, decades later, as I type this confession. I remember the poor bat screeching for its very life as the water cascaded through its cage. And yet, that wasn't enough to stop me from doing this evil deed.
For good measure, I totally immersed the bat, still imprisoned but now totally silent, under the water which had by this time more than half-filled the sink.
I held the colander in place for what seemed like an eternity. Maybe I was afraid the poor animal wouldn't be dead and would try to attack us once released. Within a few minutes, I brought the drowned bat up to the surface and laid it out on the counter top. Tears started to fill my eyes - it looked so small and helpless and beautiful, its black fur glistening from its soaking. The old man scooped it up and took it outside to the alley, when a garbage can of a coffin waited for it.
I didn't ask, but I'm sure the old man made sure the lid was secured so the bat wouldn't have been able to make its way back into his building - assuming it would have somehow come back to life.
The kitten
This sad mark on my karma began when one of my roommates brought a kitten home. There were four of us young men in our early 20's, all Buddhists, sharing this apartment. We got along reasonably well until the most recent addition to our household brought a kitten to live with us. I was highly pissed that he didn't ask any of us, in advance, if this fifth roommate would be welcome. Some people don't like cats and others are allergic to them. Some would insist that the owner swear up and down to take care of their pet - you know, like regularly cleaning out its litter box.
My irritation grew when I was home alone standing in front of a window, gazing mindlessly at the street below, when this kitten ran up behind me, took a flying leap, and dug its claws into my calf - clinging for dear life. I shook it loose, my anger at the owner spiking. Thinking about it now, I guess it's true what they say: "Animals know." The kitten probably picked up on my anti-cat (or anti-cat owner) attitude.
Not long after this incident, all four of us moved out - me being the first to go. A few weeks later, I returned to pick up a small item I'd forgotten. All of my roommates' belongings were gone - except for the kitten. It walked up to me slowly - limping and obviously starving, not having been fed for days or a week or... The owner had abandoned it in the locked apartment, not even having had the decency to set it free.
This is what I wish I would have done: After petting it and saying a few reassuring words, then going to a nearby store to buy a can of cat food and a bowl for water.
But, to my very great shame, I didn't do that. I thought to put it out of its misery by grabbing a plastic bag and putting the poor creature into it to suffocate. Kitten surprised me by putting up a heroic struggle. So I let it out of the bag and left. To this day, I can't say why I tried to kill a poor, defenseless animal. Maybe it had to do with a whole bunch of negative emotions that welled up having to do with why I had recently quit the Buddhist group of which I had been a member for two-and-a-half years. Many of my experiences with that group had been bitter - or at least bittersweet. Maybe that's why I took it out on this poor kitten.
Still, no excuse.
I later told an old friend what I did, trying to put positive spin by saying I at least let it live - hoping the owner would come back for his pet. My friend said, "Since your lease is up now, the building super will have inspected the apartment by now. As soon as he saw the cat, he'd have taken it to the basement to throw into the furnace. Supers hate cats."
My atonement
I am currently working on the form my atonement should take, and how you might be able to help. My idea is to, somehow, work out a way that financial contributions could be directed to a friend of mine in Minnesota who runs a shelter for cats. There are technical reasons why she can't use Pay Pal or any other type of on-line method, which I'll explain in a future post. I will entitle that piece "My Atonement" and link it to this post.
Hopefully, I'll post "My Atonement" within the next few weeks.
My friend lives in a small house in a rural community - alone, except for the 30 cats she's rescued over the last few years. I try to help her care for her fur babies as best I can, but as a retiree I'm on a fixed income. Still, when I was paid a one-time windfall of $12,000 by my employer of 31 years, I farmed it out to her over the last two years as expenses started to mount to care for her cats.
If I can help care for these cats, including veterinary care, I hope that will lessen my karmic retribution. With that goal in mind, I stopped eating meat over a year ago. And I pray for the bat, the kitten, and any others - including people - I've abused in any way.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Steven Searle, just another member of
The Virtual Samgha of the Lotus and
Former Candidate for USA President (in 2008 & 2012)
Contact me at bpa_cinc@yahoo.com
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