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| I totally need this outfit |
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| Here I am congratulating myself on a job well done |
Many thanks to I.S.W.A.R. readers & supporters. It's been very enjoyable overdosing y'all with absurd levels of merry snarkitude.
Monday, December 9, 2013
All Done!
Many thanks to I.S.W.A.R. readers & supporters. It's been very enjoyable overdosing y'all with absurd levels of merry snarkitude.
Sunday, December 8, 2013
Loving Kindness, My Ass
Last summer, my husband and I went to see the Dalai Lama open for the Red Hot Chili Peppers.
(Actually, RHCP's midday set was a complete surprise. We'd heard there would be a musical guest after the Dalai Lama spoke, and it turned out to be everyone's favorite cock sock exhibitionists from the 1990s.)
For several hours before the Chili Peppers took the stage, thousands of us sat quietly, listening to His Holiness speak about compassion, loving kindness, and respecting all precious life. The ideas are simple, ancient, and beautiful, and as I listened to his words and gazed around at a stadium full of seemingly thoughtful folks, their shoulders draped in white Tibetan khata, I momentarily allowed myself to think, Perhaps there is hope for humanity yet.
Such is the emotional whimsy of the closet idealist. When I witness any little thing suggesting human goodness, I get swept up in a wave of hope. But when it comes to feelings about humanity, my idealism pendulum is subject to wild swings. It can go from "Yahoo, things are gonna get better!" to "All is lost. These stupid fuckers will get exactly what they deserve," in a matter of moments, then back to "Look - someone did something not horrible! Yay for humans!" before swinging right back to "Fuck the world. We should just blow it up already." And that can happen during the course of one half-hour reality tv show. (One of the many reasons I don't watch tv. Those pendulum swings are exhausting.)
So, in honor of my ever-swinging idealist pendulum, let us return to Dalai Lama Day and cue Total Jerkface (I'll call him TJ for short).
After the Dalai Lama's morning talk, we broke for lunch and returned for an afternoon panel discussion. As we filed back into the stadium, several dozen of us got stuck behind a young man who was weaving back and forth across the staircase. That would be TJ, and he was doing something very important: updating his Facebook status on his phone. The rest of us waited patiently as he mindlessly blocked our passage, lost in the virtual world of pretend celebrity and delusional self-importance that is American social media.
When TJ finally updated his stupid status, moved his ass up the stairs and arrived at his row, he found someone standing in his way. After waiting for about half a second, TJ released a pained, exasperated sigh and yelled down the row to his friend, "I don't know what the fuck this guy is doing!" He proceeded to shove past the guy and into the row. The guy almost fell, but TJ didn't seem to notice. Or maybe he did notice, but didn't care.
And here is what happened in my brain when I saw TJ shove that guy:
OF COURSE you're wearing your goddamn khata while you shove people out of your way, you stupid, selfish, row-blocking asshole! Later on today, you'll probably have your buddy take a picture of you wearing it in a strip club and post it with the caption: "OHM, BITCHES!" You FUCKER.
But here's the thing I must force myself to remember when encountering the TJs of the world: the guy probably isn't pure evil. More likely, he was just having a dumb, thoughtless moment. Sure, we'd been listening to a spiritual leader talk about mindfulness and compassion all morning, but whatever. One shove to get back to his seat doesn't mean that he hadn't internalized, or didn't already believe, a single one of the Dalai Lama's teachings. Maybe he had something of critical importance to say to his friend. Probably not, but...maybe.
That sort of thing is very hard for me to admit, what with that swinging pendulum and all. But realistically, the pendulum lies. Its extremes are invalid. What's true is that we all fuck up, we are all mindless sometimes, and most of us try not to be assholes, but with mixed results. And while assuming best intention is hard for me, I must admit that I feel better when I look at people, and myself, through that lens.
In honor of that lens, I'll rename TJ. Instead of Total Jerkface, I'll call him Occasional Jerkface. OJ for short.
That's better, right?
(Actually, RHCP's midday set was a complete surprise. We'd heard there would be a musical guest after the Dalai Lama spoke, and it turned out to be everyone's favorite cock sock exhibitionists from the 1990s.)
For several hours before the Chili Peppers took the stage, thousands of us sat quietly, listening to His Holiness speak about compassion, loving kindness, and respecting all precious life. The ideas are simple, ancient, and beautiful, and as I listened to his words and gazed around at a stadium full of seemingly thoughtful folks, their shoulders draped in white Tibetan khata, I momentarily allowed myself to think, Perhaps there is hope for humanity yet.
Such is the emotional whimsy of the closet idealist. When I witness any little thing suggesting human goodness, I get swept up in a wave of hope. But when it comes to feelings about humanity, my idealism pendulum is subject to wild swings. It can go from "Yahoo, things are gonna get better!" to "All is lost. These stupid fuckers will get exactly what they deserve," in a matter of moments, then back to "Look - someone did something not horrible! Yay for humans!" before swinging right back to "Fuck the world. We should just blow it up already." And that can happen during the course of one half-hour reality tv show. (One of the many reasons I don't watch tv. Those pendulum swings are exhausting.)
So, in honor of my ever-swinging idealist pendulum, let us return to Dalai Lama Day and cue Total Jerkface (I'll call him TJ for short).
After the Dalai Lama's morning talk, we broke for lunch and returned for an afternoon panel discussion. As we filed back into the stadium, several dozen of us got stuck behind a young man who was weaving back and forth across the staircase. That would be TJ, and he was doing something very important: updating his Facebook status on his phone. The rest of us waited patiently as he mindlessly blocked our passage, lost in the virtual world of pretend celebrity and delusional self-importance that is American social media.
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| Pics or it didn't happen, right? So here's a picture of my lunch! LIKE IT! LOVE IT!! TELL ME HOW DELICIOUS IT LOOKS!!!! |
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| A graphic depiction of TJ's inner workings |
OF COURSE you're wearing your goddamn khata while you shove people out of your way, you stupid, selfish, row-blocking asshole! Later on today, you'll probably have your buddy take a picture of you wearing it in a strip club and post it with the caption: "OHM, BITCHES!" You FUCKER.
But here's the thing I must force myself to remember when encountering the TJs of the world: the guy probably isn't pure evil. More likely, he was just having a dumb, thoughtless moment. Sure, we'd been listening to a spiritual leader talk about mindfulness and compassion all morning, but whatever. One shove to get back to his seat doesn't mean that he hadn't internalized, or didn't already believe, a single one of the Dalai Lama's teachings. Maybe he had something of critical importance to say to his friend. Probably not, but...maybe.
That sort of thing is very hard for me to admit, what with that swinging pendulum and all. But realistically, the pendulum lies. Its extremes are invalid. What's true is that we all fuck up, we are all mindless sometimes, and most of us try not to be assholes, but with mixed results. And while assuming best intention is hard for me, I must admit that I feel better when I look at people, and myself, through that lens.
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| I do. Um...sort of. Sometimes. |
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