I just realized that I've been reading this book for a relatively long time now:
Title: The Zen Way to the Martial Arts
Author: Taisen Deshimaru
It's a short book, but after the first [couple of] run-through[s], I keep reading a chapter here, a chapter there.
The book deals with the interactions between Zen and Bushido, and the practice of Zen as a means of harmonizing oneself with reality. 'Attaining enlightenment' is another way to put it, but the term has too much baggage.
Generally, I place most references to absolute reality in the same league as the Cartesian concept, proving God's existence. Decartes came to the conclusion that God exists even after deciding that everything sensed by the human mind is false due to the unreliability of the senses. My question is that if all things known through the senses are false, how can a human being claim absolute knowledge of anything? Hm...
The purpose of bringing up Decartes is that in contrast to his ideas, I think that Deshimaru uses Zen to describe a concept of reality quite effectively. Maybe its because Zen is comprised of all those maddening paradoxes.
I think I'll put up a guestbook or message board or something soon.
Empty heads have long tongues.
Bruce was smart too.
2.26.2001
2.26.2001
2.26.2001
Conversation with a coworker [via company IM program]
------------------------------------------
Note: The rhythm is thus: [me] - [her] - [me] - [her] - [me] - [her] ... and so on.
hey you :)
busy?
******************
a little. you?
******************
Managing my time.
wow, suddenly its five-thirty.
Funny how time flies when you're living someone else's life.
******************
who's life?
******************
the life of a bland office worker who sees the sun and feels the wind only on his "days off".
you never have these feelings?
******************
ALL THE TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
******************
so why live the life of a drone? safety?
******************
you tell me
******************
I can't speak for you. My reason is that I'm waiting for my mind to reach subtle education. What I read, how I feel, it's all subconscious learning. I feed my mind what I need to move into the reality of my creation. But I don't learn from seeing or doing alone. I learn from feeling.
And learning to feel takes time.
******************
wow
******************
so what's your reason?
******************
safety
******************
you scare me sometimes.
******************
you scare me too.
******************
isn't it great? :)
******************
:-)
******************
------------------------------------------
Note: The rhythm is thus: [me] - [her] - [me] - [her] - [me] - [her] ... and so on.
hey you :)
busy?
******************
a little. you?
******************
Managing my time.
wow, suddenly its five-thirty.
Funny how time flies when you're living someone else's life.
******************
who's life?
******************
the life of a bland office worker who sees the sun and feels the wind only on his "days off".
you never have these feelings?
******************
ALL THE TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
******************
so why live the life of a drone? safety?
******************
you tell me
******************
I can't speak for you. My reason is that I'm waiting for my mind to reach subtle education. What I read, how I feel, it's all subconscious learning. I feed my mind what I need to move into the reality of my creation. But I don't learn from seeing or doing alone. I learn from feeling.
And learning to feel takes time.
******************
wow
******************
so what's your reason?
******************
safety
******************
you scare me sometimes.
******************
you scare me too.
******************
isn't it great? :)
******************
:-)
******************
2/26/2001 05:43:00 PM
Sitting here at work, a twenty-year old human, working as a web designer, listening to other drones living out meaningless lives.
I feel the urge to do something.
And I have options.
But is there an escape from normality? The theme that undercuts the lifestyle of every human being?
Is there any such thing as freedom of expression?... and can I live a life of free-expression without it becoming yet another routine ...
People whine about their ages constantly. I almost feel the urge to do it myself. Kind of like an audition. I think the rule is this:
* If you are under twenty five and not in college but have college-going friends, it is mandatory to sigh and say not less than once while in their presence: "aiyah... I feel like I'm forty".
Function: makes the non-college goer feel worldly, but reinforces the idea that the college-goer has an "advantage" and is hanging onto their youthfulness by staying in school. Much like saying "look at me, I'm soo responsible... yo, my older brother's picture ID look just like me, dawg! I can drink now! Word!"
* If you are over twenty-five AND female, you must constantly whine about your younger-skinnier-prettier-"not as fat as me" competition.
Function: gives women a reason to be paid attention to. The correct answer to this type of noise-making is "no no no, you're still so pretty... [insert cosmetically inclined commentary here]".
* If you are over thirty-five AND male, you must begin to refer to younger people with condescending phrases like "son" and "young [wo]man", etc. It is necessary that you talk about your past experiences with the wistful air of someone whose best years have passed them by.
Function: makes the older man feel powerful [wise] and experienced, and covers up his or her fear of aging, increased responsibility [much like a comb-over on the pate of a balding man], and decreased physical function [you figure that one out].
Even though I write this in a half-joking manner, there is something serious underlying the levity: humans create society, but it seems that it is society that provides the ideal trap for those who live within it. I fight the urge to dress like my counterparts, act like my ethnic stereotypes, and think like a media-trained socialite for precisely this reason.
I could do it. I could be like my friends, my coworkers, the people who look most like me. But then I would become one of billions. That which is unique about me is the same thing that makes me the same as those "billions": I have the ability to decide whether or not to feel as if I am part of a larger whole. I refuse to become part of that amorphous mass because I know that it is my iconoclastic mentality that is the source of my creative urge.
'Quod me nutrit me destruit'
I like Angelina too [and all her tattoos]. And the fact that she is openly bi. [sexual].
I feel the urge to do something.
And I have options.
But is there an escape from normality? The theme that undercuts the lifestyle of every human being?
Is there any such thing as freedom of expression?... and can I live a life of free-expression without it becoming yet another routine ...
People whine about their ages constantly. I almost feel the urge to do it myself. Kind of like an audition. I think the rule is this:
* If you are under twenty five and not in college but have college-going friends, it is mandatory to sigh and say not less than once while in their presence: "aiyah... I feel like I'm forty".
Function: makes the non-college goer feel worldly, but reinforces the idea that the college-goer has an "advantage" and is hanging onto their youthfulness by staying in school. Much like saying "look at me, I'm soo responsible... yo, my older brother's picture ID look just like me, dawg! I can drink now! Word!"
* If you are over twenty-five AND female, you must constantly whine about your younger-skinnier-prettier-"not as fat as me" competition.
Function: gives women a reason to be paid attention to. The correct answer to this type of noise-making is "no no no, you're still so pretty... [insert cosmetically inclined commentary here]".
* If you are over thirty-five AND male, you must begin to refer to younger people with condescending phrases like "son" and "young [wo]man", etc. It is necessary that you talk about your past experiences with the wistful air of someone whose best years have passed them by.
Function: makes the older man feel powerful [wise] and experienced, and covers up his or her fear of aging, increased responsibility [much like a comb-over on the pate of a balding man], and decreased physical function [you figure that one out].
Even though I write this in a half-joking manner, there is something serious underlying the levity: humans create society, but it seems that it is society that provides the ideal trap for those who live within it. I fight the urge to dress like my counterparts, act like my ethnic stereotypes, and think like a media-trained socialite for precisely this reason.
I could do it. I could be like my friends, my coworkers, the people who look most like me. But then I would become one of billions. That which is unique about me is the same thing that makes me the same as those "billions": I have the ability to decide whether or not to feel as if I am part of a larger whole. I refuse to become part of that amorphous mass because I know that it is my iconoclastic mentality that is the source of my creative urge.
'Quod me nutrit me destruit'
I like Angelina too [and all her tattoos]. And the fact that she is openly bi. [sexual].
Before I forget to post this [again]:
Transcript of a sticky note scribble... hurried writings on one of those square yellow paper notes:
"Pain is the only true motivator.
Frustration is the creative
manifestation of pain.
Frustration motivates the "I"
to fight-or-flee: move beyond its
ignorance, or run from the source
of confusion. But the source of
knowledge is also the source of
confusion. Thus, to flee confusion
is to run from understanding."
Transcript of a sticky note scribble... hurried writings on one of those square yellow paper notes:
"Pain is the only true motivator.
Frustration is the creative
manifestation of pain.
Frustration motivates the "I"
to fight-or-flee: move beyond its
ignorance, or run from the source
of confusion. But the source of
knowledge is also the source of
confusion. Thus, to flee confusion
is to run from understanding."
Privacy is an illusion.
I find it interesting that so many people refuse to accept that information is only as secure as the keeper of the information. In other words, if someone sees your face, you are no longer anonymous. How many people see my face every day? Tens, maybe hundreds. Even more if I happen to be in a high-concentration area [metropolis].
That's part of the reason why I find the concept of "celebrity" to be somewhat thoughtless.
I like Milla.
I find it interesting that so many people refuse to accept that information is only as secure as the keeper of the information. In other words, if someone sees your face, you are no longer anonymous. How many people see my face every day? Tens, maybe hundreds. Even more if I happen to be in a high-concentration area [metropolis].
That's part of the reason why I find the concept of "celebrity" to be somewhat thoughtless.
I like Milla.
2.22.2001
2.22.2001
2.22.2001
http://www.thecure.net/other/burn.html
don't look, don't look
the shadows breathe
whispering me away from you
don't wake at night to watch her sleep
you know that you will always see
this trembling dark tassle burnt like gold
every night i burn
every night i call your name
every night i burn
every night i fall again
don't talk of love 'cause shadows blur
murmuring me away from you
don't talk of worlds that never were
the end is always ever true
there's nothing you can ever say
nothing you can ever do
still every night i burn
every night i scream your name
every night i burn
every night the dream's the same
every night i burn
waiting for my only friend
every night i burn
waiting for the world to end
just paint your face and shadow smile
slipping me away from you
oh it doesn't matter how you hide
find you if we're wanting to
so slide back down and close your eyes
sleep awhile - you must be tired
when every night i burn
every night i call your name
every night i burn
every night i fall again
every night i burn
scream the animal screams
every night i burn
dream the crow black dream
dream the crow black dream
burn; the cure
This song is on "repeat" at work every now and then. I love the expressive pain in the vocals for this song. Especially in the context of the Crow, when Brandon Lee is reliving his life with his girlfriend in disjointed flashes; eventually finding his new reality in the cracked shards of the mirror, he paints his face in the guise of the crow.
don't look, don't look
the shadows breathe
whispering me away from you
don't wake at night to watch her sleep
you know that you will always see
this trembling dark tassle burnt like gold
every night i burn
every night i call your name
every night i burn
every night i fall again
don't talk of love 'cause shadows blur
murmuring me away from you
don't talk of worlds that never were
the end is always ever true
there's nothing you can ever say
nothing you can ever do
still every night i burn
every night i scream your name
every night i burn
every night the dream's the same
every night i burn
waiting for my only friend
every night i burn
waiting for the world to end
just paint your face and shadow smile
slipping me away from you
oh it doesn't matter how you hide
find you if we're wanting to
so slide back down and close your eyes
sleep awhile - you must be tired
when every night i burn
every night i call your name
every night i burn
every night i fall again
every night i burn
scream the animal screams
every night i burn
dream the crow black dream
dream the crow black dream
burn; the cure
This song is on "repeat" at work every now and then. I love the expressive pain in the vocals for this song. Especially in the context of the Crow, when Brandon Lee is reliving his life with his girlfriend in disjointed flashes; eventually finding his new reality in the cracked shards of the mirror, he paints his face in the guise of the crow.
2/22/2001 02:37:00 AM
2.21.2001
2.21.2001
2.21.2001
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