Imaginary friends that don't let you eat meat on fridays.
Bolivia, North Carolina. A town named for the sole purpose of fucking with anyone who has a shaky sense of geography. The town's presence is signified to the outside world only by sparse roadsigns that were erected some time within the last twenty years just to see how many tourists would have aneurysms.
"Myrtle Beach 63
Bolivia 21"
Bolivia is the type of town with more silos than people. The kind of place where you could probably get by with drunkenly staggering down the street, stark naked, a look of coke-fueled rage in one eye while the other is half closed, holding a nearly empty case of beer in your left hand while your right is loosely wrapped around the butt of a shotgun whose barrel is sparking along on the concrete. No one would notice. No one is THERE to notice. And even if they were, there is a decent chance that they would be doing the same thing.
On a quick drive down Main Street (designated as such because it's the ONLY street) you will see a convenience store, a couple of abandonned gas stations, some livestock, a bank tucked back into the dense, swampy foliage and a sign directing you to a Buddhist Temple. Since Nicole, Daryl and myself had gotten into the car without any particular destination in mind, that's where we ended up.
The temple rests on a soggy plot of land just south of "downtown" Bolivia. Monks can usually be found wandering around lackadaisically with no particular destination or deadline at the front of the complex near a small southern house that has had a long, painstaking eastern make-over. The temple itself is a massive building perched on large concrete pilings that impart the structure with a sense of levitation or weightlessness.
Moments after you arrive you feel a sudden wave of incongruency. You feel out of place and it's not because you are not buddhist or because you smell funny or anything like that. After a few minutes of trying to figure out why you feel so uncomfortable it dawns on you: You are moving too fast. You look around and watch as a leaf makes a seemingly hour-long journey from canopy to soil. The monks move with glacial speed and seem to red-line somewhere around "mosey".
The first thing that popped into my head after this strange realization was the scenario of an emergency. Something like the forest catching on fire and all of the monks strolling for their lives.
While this delightfully twisted image was rattling around in my brain like the metal ball inside of a can of spraypaint I noticed a very tiny asian man wearing a bed-sheet and fervently waving us toward the old house.
The inside of the house was rather spartan by most standards being comprised mostly of one large, central room whose walls were almost completely covered with various teaching devises and posters of presumably famous monks that seem to be analogous to posters of baseball all-stars in a childs room. The only furniture in the room was a vast expanse of carpetted floor just at the foot of a slightly elevated area where the monk sat. I walked to the far side of the expanse and sat leaving enough room for Nicole and Daryl to my right.
The monk was of an indeterminable age. Somewhere between 40 and 70 probably. He was completely bald and had a decent grasp on the english language although he talked with a stilted pop in his voice that seemed to add punctuation to the end of every word. He had a permanent, yet genuine, child-like smile that, in tandem with his attire, would at times make me feel like I was having a religious discussion with a kid who was wearing the window curtains after his parents left him unattended.
When asked a question he would take a very noticeable pause, during which you could almost see the gears turning in his head before he would respond. This was presumably in accordance with the "Right Speech" part of the Eightfold Path which he demostrated to us using a teaching aid; a piece of poster paper with dozens of lines all intersecting and dividing, creating a path that led all the way from the word "Dhamma" to "Liberation".
The second teaching aid was a picture called "The Wheel of Life" that has aparently been used for more than 2000 years and is often painted on the gateways of monestaries. As you would imagine, the picture is of a wheel and at the center is a pig, a chicken and a snake. The monk pointed to the pig and said that it symbolized greed. He then pointed to a section of the wheel which he said depicts a heaven-like place. At this point I encountered a problem that seems to be universal with religions and decided to ask him:
"But isn't greed a motivation to get into heaven?"
He sat silently for a moment as he always did before speaking. I felt a rush of satisfaction at the prospect of finally having a question answered by a religious figure. Surely this happy little asian man sitting before me won't bullshit me. He won't treat me like the Baptists did. He will never say "You ask too many questions" or "Just pray about it." So I sat. Still. Quiet. Impatiently waiting for his answer. Only about a second and a half had gone by but it seemed like 10. Then:
"What?"
"What do you mean, what?"
"What was your question?"
"How could anyone ever give up greed in order to go to heaven? I mean, if I want to go to heaven then isn't that somewhat greedy? So how could anyone give up greed in order to go to heaven?"
He thought for a moment while looking at me with a frozen expression that bordered on disgusted confusion. He stammered momentarily and mumbled something to himself in his native Thai and then proceeded to duck my question by continuing the lesson as if it never happened.
About an hour later, following a lesson about letting go of material possessions, the monk gave us some material possessions to take with us and we were on our way.
Regardless of my unanswered question Buddhism still makes far more sense to me than any other religion. Not enough for me to subscribe to it in full but more so than most Judeo-Christian religions. I think a large part of this is due to the fact that with Buddhism there is no real need for a "savior", there is just a guy who figured it all out. I still, however, have yet to find a religion that doesn't have glaring cracks in the foundation.
Most religions have something to the extent of a basic Heaven-Hell set up. Most religions also teach that fear and greed are bad but then they use your fear of going to Hell and your greed for Heaven like cattle-prods to corral you into whatever agenda they have whether it be money, politics or just blatant megalomania.
The town that I grew up in had a population of 168 during the 2000 census and it had four churches. I have never set foot in any of them however because I attended Bear Swamp Baptist Church in Lake View, South Carolina. Lake View has had a constant population for the past four decades of 700 people. The town is centered around a church and there is a church on every block and in some cases two. The one I attended had a weekly attendance that varied between 30 and 70 and cycled through ministers every four to seven years. The minister lived in a furnished house on main street that was paid for. He paid no taxes. He had an anual income of roughly $26,000 that was all "spending money". He always asked for a little more. And every Sunday my mom would take me there. I would run the PA system and record the service for the house-bound members while my mom would give her ten percent that went virtually straight into the pockets of a man who made more than her.
Christianity is far too distorted for me to believe. It is obvious, the current political atmosphere is a good example, that this message is the pulp product that filtered out of thousands of years worth of agendas. Besides, I have deep-rooted problems with christianity in general. Questions that never were answered. Questions that were dodged by the good ol' cop out: "Just pray about it." For example: In most protestant beliefs infant deaths go to Heaven. Well, it is horrible to say this but that is not fair. Why should this person skip the test and get an "A" BECAUSE of it? While someone else can try his entire life, really try, for eighty years or more, just struggle everyday to be true to his faith and simply fall short and spend eternity in Hell. When I ask people this question they usually say "Well, its a child. It didn't get to live life so Heaven is kind of a compensation for that." That is still not fair. We are talking about eternity. Infinity. Forever. All in the context of compensation for the child missing out on somewhere around 80 years of life.
Buddhism has the best intentions it seems yet it still falls short of devotion-worthy for me.
I am not trying to attack any religions personally. If a religion works for you then be my guest. I will not go out of my way to destroy what you hold dear. I have been on both sides of this fence. I will never, even though I disagree with some things he said, go back to that monk and try to destroy his faith. It works for him. He is obviously happy.
Live and let live.
Fuck Mormonism.
"Myrtle Beach 63
Bolivia 21"
Bolivia is the type of town with more silos than people. The kind of place where you could probably get by with drunkenly staggering down the street, stark naked, a look of coke-fueled rage in one eye while the other is half closed, holding a nearly empty case of beer in your left hand while your right is loosely wrapped around the butt of a shotgun whose barrel is sparking along on the concrete. No one would notice. No one is THERE to notice. And even if they were, there is a decent chance that they would be doing the same thing.
On a quick drive down Main Street (designated as such because it's the ONLY street) you will see a convenience store, a couple of abandonned gas stations, some livestock, a bank tucked back into the dense, swampy foliage and a sign directing you to a Buddhist Temple. Since Nicole, Daryl and myself had gotten into the car without any particular destination in mind, that's where we ended up.
The temple rests on a soggy plot of land just south of "downtown" Bolivia. Monks can usually be found wandering around lackadaisically with no particular destination or deadline at the front of the complex near a small southern house that has had a long, painstaking eastern make-over. The temple itself is a massive building perched on large concrete pilings that impart the structure with a sense of levitation or weightlessness.
Moments after you arrive you feel a sudden wave of incongruency. You feel out of place and it's not because you are not buddhist or because you smell funny or anything like that. After a few minutes of trying to figure out why you feel so uncomfortable it dawns on you: You are moving too fast. You look around and watch as a leaf makes a seemingly hour-long journey from canopy to soil. The monks move with glacial speed and seem to red-line somewhere around "mosey".
The first thing that popped into my head after this strange realization was the scenario of an emergency. Something like the forest catching on fire and all of the monks strolling for their lives.
While this delightfully twisted image was rattling around in my brain like the metal ball inside of a can of spraypaint I noticed a very tiny asian man wearing a bed-sheet and fervently waving us toward the old house.
The inside of the house was rather spartan by most standards being comprised mostly of one large, central room whose walls were almost completely covered with various teaching devises and posters of presumably famous monks that seem to be analogous to posters of baseball all-stars in a childs room. The only furniture in the room was a vast expanse of carpetted floor just at the foot of a slightly elevated area where the monk sat. I walked to the far side of the expanse and sat leaving enough room for Nicole and Daryl to my right.
The monk was of an indeterminable age. Somewhere between 40 and 70 probably. He was completely bald and had a decent grasp on the english language although he talked with a stilted pop in his voice that seemed to add punctuation to the end of every word. He had a permanent, yet genuine, child-like smile that, in tandem with his attire, would at times make me feel like I was having a religious discussion with a kid who was wearing the window curtains after his parents left him unattended.
When asked a question he would take a very noticeable pause, during which you could almost see the gears turning in his head before he would respond. This was presumably in accordance with the "Right Speech" part of the Eightfold Path which he demostrated to us using a teaching aid; a piece of poster paper with dozens of lines all intersecting and dividing, creating a path that led all the way from the word "Dhamma" to "Liberation".
The second teaching aid was a picture called "The Wheel of Life" that has aparently been used for more than 2000 years and is often painted on the gateways of monestaries. As you would imagine, the picture is of a wheel and at the center is a pig, a chicken and a snake. The monk pointed to the pig and said that it symbolized greed. He then pointed to a section of the wheel which he said depicts a heaven-like place. At this point I encountered a problem that seems to be universal with religions and decided to ask him:
"But isn't greed a motivation to get into heaven?"
He sat silently for a moment as he always did before speaking. I felt a rush of satisfaction at the prospect of finally having a question answered by a religious figure. Surely this happy little asian man sitting before me won't bullshit me. He won't treat me like the Baptists did. He will never say "You ask too many questions" or "Just pray about it." So I sat. Still. Quiet. Impatiently waiting for his answer. Only about a second and a half had gone by but it seemed like 10. Then:
"What?"
"What do you mean, what?"
"What was your question?"
"How could anyone ever give up greed in order to go to heaven? I mean, if I want to go to heaven then isn't that somewhat greedy? So how could anyone give up greed in order to go to heaven?"
He thought for a moment while looking at me with a frozen expression that bordered on disgusted confusion. He stammered momentarily and mumbled something to himself in his native Thai and then proceeded to duck my question by continuing the lesson as if it never happened.
About an hour later, following a lesson about letting go of material possessions, the monk gave us some material possessions to take with us and we were on our way.
Regardless of my unanswered question Buddhism still makes far more sense to me than any other religion. Not enough for me to subscribe to it in full but more so than most Judeo-Christian religions. I think a large part of this is due to the fact that with Buddhism there is no real need for a "savior", there is just a guy who figured it all out. I still, however, have yet to find a religion that doesn't have glaring cracks in the foundation.
Most religions have something to the extent of a basic Heaven-Hell set up. Most religions also teach that fear and greed are bad but then they use your fear of going to Hell and your greed for Heaven like cattle-prods to corral you into whatever agenda they have whether it be money, politics or just blatant megalomania.
The town that I grew up in had a population of 168 during the 2000 census and it had four churches. I have never set foot in any of them however because I attended Bear Swamp Baptist Church in Lake View, South Carolina. Lake View has had a constant population for the past four decades of 700 people. The town is centered around a church and there is a church on every block and in some cases two. The one I attended had a weekly attendance that varied between 30 and 70 and cycled through ministers every four to seven years. The minister lived in a furnished house on main street that was paid for. He paid no taxes. He had an anual income of roughly $26,000 that was all "spending money". He always asked for a little more. And every Sunday my mom would take me there. I would run the PA system and record the service for the house-bound members while my mom would give her ten percent that went virtually straight into the pockets of a man who made more than her.
Christianity is far too distorted for me to believe. It is obvious, the current political atmosphere is a good example, that this message is the pulp product that filtered out of thousands of years worth of agendas. Besides, I have deep-rooted problems with christianity in general. Questions that never were answered. Questions that were dodged by the good ol' cop out: "Just pray about it." For example: In most protestant beliefs infant deaths go to Heaven. Well, it is horrible to say this but that is not fair. Why should this person skip the test and get an "A" BECAUSE of it? While someone else can try his entire life, really try, for eighty years or more, just struggle everyday to be true to his faith and simply fall short and spend eternity in Hell. When I ask people this question they usually say "Well, its a child. It didn't get to live life so Heaven is kind of a compensation for that." That is still not fair. We are talking about eternity. Infinity. Forever. All in the context of compensation for the child missing out on somewhere around 80 years of life.
Buddhism has the best intentions it seems yet it still falls short of devotion-worthy for me.
I am not trying to attack any religions personally. If a religion works for you then be my guest. I will not go out of my way to destroy what you hold dear. I have been on both sides of this fence. I will never, even though I disagree with some things he said, go back to that monk and try to destroy his faith. It works for him. He is obviously happy.
Live and let live.
Fuck Mormonism.
posted by Seth Parham at 7:59 AM
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