Monday, September 19, 2005

Ra What You Really Want!

9:15p.m. Monday.
It's the September weekend, so I was off today. One September weekend I slept with someone for the first time. It probably wasn't legal, but I'm not Adolf, so I'll draw a veil over that.

Thank God as I get older I'm going to be less concerned with that malarkey. Time to think about what one really wants.

Setting the scene here on the Unheard of and McDonald Islands ... the two penguins who were in the cave with me for a bit have swam off for a few days inVladivostok. So I'm on my own. I've just been to Peckham's for three beers. I'm on the first one. It's says Weihenstephaner Kristall Weissbier. It says it's from the world's oldest brewery.

Last night I had three beers (IPA ) then went out for two cans of Bud when I realised I was actually on holiday. I've really been on holiday since Wednesday last, but it only felt as if I was on holiday last night. Once I realised I was on holiday, I realised I'd been living in more dukka for the last few days than usual. This is because of being hyper sensitive and wanting the wrong things.

The first noble truth is the true of dukka, or dukkha, or dukha. Translated as suffering. The first noble truth is the truth of suffering. But that's just a translation. It can mean frustration. Not getting what you want.

So what do you really want?

Got to be happiness, or contentment, or satiation. At least, less dukka.

First of all, you've got to accept responsibility for what's going on in your head. I couldn't believe the email I got from Rosemary Canter, but if I hadn't sent her one, she wouldn't have sent one back.

Philosophically, things exist as labels and functions. They don't exist as things in themselves. Rosemary Canter is the label of a human being whom I will never meet. She has a function, which is to be a literary agent (whatever that is!), and she seems to be pretty good at it since she has her name in the Writers and Artists Yearbook and a big string of people as clients. These are writers. Almost none of them can write like me, but that's just the beer kicking in.

I have to say here well done, Rosemary, whoever you are. You have a label and function in a way that meets the needs. You probably stay in a house that now costs a mint in Holland Park or Islington and you have done extremely well for yourself. So well done.

But if you're Karma had been good, and you weren't a stroppy basturn like me, I would have been standing by your bedside as you passed away and I would have been whispering in your ear about ra bliss. Because at that point, hen, how much money you've got doesn't matter. And all your clients would have melted away. And all your money. What you would have noticed was the dukka and Hotboy telling you all about ra bliss. Now all you're going to get is the dukka. Not a good email for you either. So we both blew that one!

This second beer is one of my favourites. It says Erdinger Weissebier. This is a very good beer.

There are enough books being published. When you're lying there gasping your last and someone says, what do you want to be remembered by, you've got to say: BY THE TIME THE UNIVERSE GOES CRUNCH, THEY WON'T EVEN REMEMBER JESUS CHRIST.

The wish that it be made known that I was the author is the thought of a man not yet adult. Dharmapala.

No idea what the dharmapala is, but I wrote that on my wall. It was on one of the last spaces easy to reach, above the door. I think I'm starting to figure out what stuff like that means.

Except what about the women? All these things say a man. They never say a woman. You're not really quoted unless you've got testicles.

You've got to want the right things or you get the grief, sorrow, lamentations ... the suffering in this life! So if you take it the other way, you're suffering because of wanting to wrong things. How can you tell the wrong things from the right things to want? It's got to be in what causes you suffering. If you're not suffering in this moment, it's good if you think that's what you deserve.

On the benefit of Erdinger. If you believed in all this crap about rebirth (or believed anything at all), the worst that happens to you is that you get reborn in much the same condition and just get stuck in this learning difficulty for a few eons. Like it's probably not going to get any worse unless like Adolf you kill six million jews. If you do something like that, it should be a bit worse for a while. But it's eons and eons and you're having a bit of a laugh. It's a holiday. This Erdinger even sounds good.

Everything kicks in at once! Happy thing.

What do you really want? Not to be confronted by the thing to be negated. The false sense of self . Ra clinging and ra craving thing. Why does it jump up? I never asked it to the party.

But taking stock, I'm meditating over thirty hours a week easy. No wonder I'm going mad. But I just feel as if I'm holding it back. The holding onto something by drinking beer, etc.

Weihenstephaner Hefe Weissbier. Eat your heart out, Adolf! This is a superb beer!

So this suffering? I've actually got a .... guru. Need another word. Too loaded, that one. Anyway, he told me once to look to my motivation. Why are you doing it? I took it that's what he meant.
I think I'll stop harassing people through this computer. That poor woman got a bad vibe. You shouldn't be sending that out. It's stupid anyway. I think what I'm supposed to do is give up the drink and drugs and surrender to ra overwhelmingly wonderful and all encompassing gorgeous bliss.

But as I look out at the sun going down and there are no penguins to be seen. Stone blue in different shades. What more could you ask for? I'm in the cave ... by the way, there is a screen of sorts. I don't mind the wind because of ra overwhelming bliss, but the penguins complain about the drafts.

I've just read this thing and couldn't believe the venom. Dearie me. I'll have to ask Adolf to post a complete dissection of this. You have to remember that all this is just configurations of the alphabet and at least let's try not to upset anyone. I'd like to lie down on the floor now and listen to loud music, but I don't know how to put the loud music on. I'll just have to see if I can put in some otherwise blisss.


Blogger Lee Ann said...

Turn the music up, I want to hear it too!

1:43 AM  
Blogger robmcj said...

Yes, and pass us a bottle. I'll see your Weisse and raise you a whole barrel of chocolate mahogany porter. I'll leave a six-pack of porter at the cave mouth later, just in case your white beer runs out, or you turn Taoist.

Anyway, in response to your excellent post:

Was it this September? Further information would help.

Was it you who told me the quote about a fortune to be made by whoever invents something that can free mankind from the tyranny of sexual intercourse? Something like that.

There's been a certain beer bias in the blogs in recent weeks. Your relaying of your savouring of the various Weissbiers verges on the pornographic. Please don't stop.

I have just achived a lowering of my own dukka levels over here. Just in time! If it had gone on much longer, I might have resorted to meditation.

About Rosemary's house in Holland Park. If I might venture some spititual advice of my own - try balancing things up with a nice post about RC, if only for the karmic side-effect. Sarcasm is the highest form of wit and I use it myself, but it plays hell with my karma or dukka or whatever.

I hope this helps. If not, try Paulaner Hefeweißbier Dunkel, it's a dark white beer, made for German Taoists like myself.

2:36 AM  
Blogger robmcj said...


2:36 AM  
Blogger Eric said...

You're looking at penguins. They dive in the cold water to feed. Heck! They dive in the frigid waters to have some wee bit of fun, I guess. Us lowly humans dive into the cold, frigid, society to make a living, and perhaps have some fun too. Rosemary's a damn shark, I say. I'd rather be a penguin.

Anyways, I'm off to Wainright, Alberta for a few weeks. I hope to be able to hook up to the internet to read your blog. I love reading it. (I'll be in the wilderness over there).

2:41 AM  
Blogger hotboy said...

Rosemary Canter will be a nice woman, Adolf. She has to get on with people so she will be nice.

Eric: I'm glad you like the blog!Being in the wildernesses of Canada sounds great. I think the Hudson Bay Co. used to pay extra to Scotmen if they could play the fiddle. To cheer folk up. I wouldn't like to be with other people in the wilderness in case they ate me.

Adolf: It was practically the first thing on the wall, the thing about the tyranny of sex. It's Frued, apparently ... 'from the tyranny of sex, let him talk whatever nonsense he chooses.'I think a red Indian goddess might be alright though! Also, I worked out that I could drink three bottles of beer every night till I get paid. Have to stop, but ra bliss is at tsunami levels just now anyway!!

10:59 AM  
Blogger robmcj said...

I tasted the porter yesterday, straight from the barrel and still cloudy, deceptively easy to drink, like real ale. It's still not ready to bottle, but I think you're going to like it - 5% alcohol, and made the German way, with masses of extra malt but no sugar.

My old Scots schooolfriend friend "Bill Howie" worked for the The Hudson Bay Co., before or maybe while he was running drugs into the U.S. by helicopter. Long before it was fashionable. Or it might have been the Susquehanna Hat Co.

I hope this helps.

6:56 AM  
Blogger robmcj said...

Eric - I commend your taste in music.

Will you be posting comments about the Alberta wilderness? Good luck.

HB - did you see Michi has got two links to you, at the top of her friends and family page?

7:54 AM  
Blogger robmcj said...

"The world’s books get written, its pictures painted, its statues modeled, its symphonies composed, by people who are free from the otherwise universal dominion of the tyranny of sex." - George Bernard Shaw

"I hope this helps." - Anon.

12:00 PM  

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