Prayer to Saint #11

“It is the pain, it is the pain endures.

Your chemic beauty burned my muscles through.”

William Empson, Villanelle 

January 14 is the feast day of St. Barbasceminus and Sixteen of His Clergy, Martyrs, which, if I was going to have a seventeen piece band, I would totally name it that.

St. Barb, as I’ll call him, was the brother of Sadoth (also a saint BTW). The story is that Barb wouldn’t give in to demands of Persian King Sapor II who told Barb to stop preaching against some of the Persian gods. Before he killed him, the king confined Barb in a “loathsome dungeon” for a year and intermittently tortured him and his men with one result that “Their bodies were disfigured by their torments, and their faces discoloured by a blackish hue which they had contracted.” That sounds pretty dreadful.

But it makes you wonder, doesn’t it? Is there a dungeon that wouldn’t fit the description loathsome? And if so, would that mean simply absence of torture; or possibly the presence of some meager amenities like say, hot water or a tempurpedic cot, or overpriced room service. Which makes me think that a rating system that lists from one to five stars to indicate the quality of the establishment would be of no help to describe the degree of loathsomeness of any particular dungeon.

Since I need such a rating system to illustrate the point of this post, first I had to institute a rating system that covers the negative scale, say one to five emoticons for brimstone – one being the best of the worst and five the most loathsome on the scale measured by St. Barb’s accommodations in his final year as a guest of the king. But then, I encountered a setback. It turns out that there is no keyboard symbol for brimstone!

For the purposes of this post, I have risen to this challenge and decided to use the universal symbol for pirate: N (which is the Capital N in Windings font). By this scale, St. Barbasceminus’ loathsome accommodations would clearly get a rating of NNNN. You’ll see in a minute why I don’t give him five pirates. But now we have a point of reference for loathsome conditions. Problem solved, and I can almost get to the point of this post.

But first, who gets five pirates? In my opinion, the only fate worse than St. Barbasceminus in this story would arguably be that of his 16 other clergy who don’t even get name recognition for the feast day of their martyrdom.  At least St. Barb got top billing. If I could pick my own patron saint, I’d go with Clergyman #11, Martyr, who didn’t even make it into the top ten, thus however earning him the distinction of his final imprisonment and death a rate of NNNNN. 

Now I can get to the point of this post. Today, I’m praying to Saint #11 that this string of below freezing night temperatures will abate and I can take the sheets and towels off of my potted succulents. Their accommodations beneath bath towels and old bed sheets in my backyard merits maybe two pirates. Five pirates would be the terrible torture they would undergo by having their vascular systems frozen and bursting their tender leaves and stems. That would have been their fate if I had failed to cover them with bed sheets and towels these past 4 nights.

So who better to pray to than Saint #11? Succulents martyred at the hands of a killing frost have bodies that are also disfigured by the torments of and left discolored and black. Coincidence?

Update on My Quest for Enlightment

“ ‘You may seek it with thimbles — and seek it with care;

 You may hunt it with forks and hope;

You may threaten its life with a railway-share;

 You may charm it with smiles and soap —’ ”

Lewis Carroll, The Hunting of the Snark

It’s just too cold and gloomy outside. I love the winter weather in So Cal, and I love the rain: almost 4” in my backyard since rains began in mid-December. That’s almost a year’s worth. But it’s not inviting outside, so here I sit in an overheated house – bored with dehydrating fruit marinated with spices and liquor. (Although I should mention that my pears seasoned with crushed anise seeds and infused with violet liquor are awesome.)

So, trying to reach enlightenment seems like a worthwhile diversion.

And my search has been a qualified success. I have had a revelation. The search for enlightenment is what separates man from animals.  Cooped up with me when it’s too cold and rainy for a walk or a romp on the rocks in the front yard, my dog prefers to search for trouble. Or a place to pee, or  for something of questionable edibility on the floor.

I have also realized that my dog’s definition of edible – plastic objects like medicine jar lids, rubber canning gaskets, pencils, dropped silverware – is somewhat broader than hungry humans might consider possible sources of food. Perhaps that’s another thing that separates us from animals. Although I haven’t verified this by checking with Wikipedia, I am confident that humans generally don’t eat jar lids or forks. 

So is that sense of certainty on the basis of no thoughtful study or research another sign that I’m becoming enlightened? Or, in the alternative, is it a sign that I’m more like Todd Aiken than I ever suspected?

But I have learned another thing in my quest for enlightenment, and I will share it with you.  I thought that the term Bodhi Tree referred to a single tree beneath which Gautama Buddha attained supreme enlightenment. The species of his tree is generally understood to be a sacred fig (Ficus religiosa).

But it turns out that Bhodi Tree means Tree of Enlightment and may or may not be a sacred fig. According to Robert Beer, Tibetan Buddhist Symbols there have been Six Universal Buddhas, each of whom “are believed to have attained enlightenment under different trees”.   They are:

Budda              Tree

Vipashyin        Ashoka (Saraca indica)

Shikhin            Pundarika or edible white lotus tree

Vishvabhu       Sala tree (Vatica robusta, Shorea robusta)                

Krakuchandra  Shirisha tree (Acacia sirissa) 

Kanakamuni    Glomerous fig tree, or undumbara (Ficus glomerata)

Kashyapa        Banyan tree (Ficus indicia)

I have an abridged version of the above book by Beer: The Handbook of Tibetan Buddhist Symbols. Strangely it lists only 5, skipping Shikhin. Either there is something about the “epochs preceding Shakyamuni” which I didn’t bother to read and would explain this; or the abridged version is abridged because it only lists 5 of the 6. From the Handbook, I was left with the impression that Gautama Buddha and his sacred fig was the sixth of the Six Universal Buddhas.

Clearly, I’ve got work to do before I will be ready to sit under whatever tree I select to be my tree of enlightenment. By then, I hope the weather improves.

Split Decision

"Thought you were gettin' the best of me

Floatin' like a butterfly, stingin' like a bee

Thought a good fight would get it out of our system

But we walked away with a split decision…

I did my best to roll with the punches

You wore me out with fakin' and a-duckin'

Almost put me outta commission

But we walked away with a split decision

Split decision

Split decision

Everbody losin' and nobody winnin'

Just too tough, I had enough

Nobody oughta hafta fight for love"

 - Bonnie Raitt, Split Decision

Our amazing legislators pulled a rabbit out of a hat last night: half dead and missing his ears. But still, a rabbit. The title of this post is in honor of their remarkable display of negotiating skills. Based on my own professional experience as a negotiator, I evaluate at their negotiating skills to be at the approximate level of third graders fighting over the basketball at recess. I would not fathom a guess as to what amazing feats they have in store for us in the coming months.

I do however, have a final few prophecies for the coming year. I return to the War on Women.

#102.  Men will declare victory in the War on Women and go home.

I hope that this prediction comes true because it’s not funny any more. I hope in 2013 that more men will approach their personal responsibility to end the war on women less casually than a homophobic elected official requests a private lap dance in a Gentlemen’s club. I hope men will wake up and speak up. Nobody ought to have to fight for love.

#3. No substantive gun control legislation will pass anywhere.

Despite my cautious optimism that good men will help to end the the War Against Women, I predict that many other (mostly) men will continue to blame everybody else for an average 33 gun related homicides that will continue to be committed each day this year, as was the case in 2005-2010.

#1984.  Gender equality sooner or later

If some men continue to impose their primitive and violent beliefs on women for their own good, and if women don’t rise up in 2013 to oppose them, I predict that their daughters will. It doesn’t take the talent of a Delphic Oracle to foretell that they have much more to lose.

My Predictions for 2013, Part 3

“The Doctor's latest incarnation is played in by 27-year-old Matt Smith who sports a retro academic-style look. His choice of clothing has prompted sales of bow ties to double, according to a leading fashion retailer. In his first episode on April 3, Smith declared "bow ties are cool" and it looks as though young shoppers have taken his comments to heart.”

The Telegraph, Doctor Who prompts surge in popularity of bow ties

Not all my predictions for next year amount to quarrelsome rants. To reassure you that it’s not all bad news I foresee in 2013 here are a few (mostly) happy fun time predictions. Not only are bowties cool in the New Year, tattoos aren’t.

#7.  Bowties will continue to be cool

 

Who are we to question The Doctor.

#4. Tattoos will cease to have any cool cachet among suburban kids with too much disposable income.

In my crystal ball, I see tattoos fading in 2013. New tattoos will be inked mostly by/on job creating small business owners running meth labs, convicts using homemade (non-radioactive) tattoo ink derived from Bic pens, and carnival sideshow freaks. And I’ll tell you why.

#5. The Fastest Will Survive 

As implausible at this may seem, I foresee that the event precipitating this decline in middle-class tattooing will come from an unexpected if tragic quarter. Through the early spring into summer 2013 the epidermis of thousands of formerly hip white kids will reach a critical mass of radioactive commercial tattoo ink and they will spontaneously combust in dirty bomb of bad taste, tragically injuring innocent bystanders, seniors driving Hoverounds with low batteries, obese people in mall food courts who are not able to run beyond the blast zone fast enough, and sadly, innocent people of good taste with a rudimentary grasp of what the skin aging process does to tattoos. Young women with pastel butterfly tramp stamps will, understandably, be the cause of the greatest devastation. But the good news is that the tattoo martyrs will not have died in vain. And I'll tell you why.

#5. Tattoos will be regulated, thus ensuring only criminals have tattoos.

I predict something good will come of this. Compassionate Americans will come together at candlelight vigils and speak out against the tragically preventable violence of what will become known as the Tattoo Spring. Conservative media will endorse growing public sentiment opposing senseless violence against innocent victims. Responding to the voices that elected them, government officials will pass laws limiting the cumulative amount of tattoo ink that can safely be applied to a human without turning them into the equivalent of inadvertent radioactive suicide bombers. Incidentally, All Laser Erasing Corporations will draft such model laws. Ok, I’m still messing with you. 

May 2013 be less than you fear, more than you hope, and may J return home safely.

My Predictions for 2013, Part 2

“Bill Nye says ‘Yo science ain’t to paint a pretty picture’

Sculpt a brain, yo talk insane, inform your little sister

One last breath of fresh air till I dive into its game

I call it pseudo science, and it's all I'll ever need…

Well maybe he was right

No maybe he was wrong

Well maybe he was right

No maybe he was wrong

Well maybe he was right

No maybe he was wrong

I knew this all along

I knew this all along…

Bill Nye aint right babe, yeah he's fresh outta site babe

Like my sick minor chords, it's all just pseudo pseudo pseudo science

Bill Nye aint right babe, yeah he's fresh outta site babe

Like my sick minor chords, it's all just pseudo pseudo pseudo science"

 - Lexi Sayok, Pseudo Science

My rain gauge birdie says 3 inches of rain have fallen in my backyard this month. This might be an example of how Real Science works. Here are a few more of my unscientific predictions for the coming year.

#3. The truth will not set us free.

This coming year, I predict that Pseudoscience will continue to kick Real Science’s ass the way an aging school bully with an expired concealed carry permit schools his womenfolk by punching their faces and raping them. 

Left unresolved I predict that such misbehavior will, increasingly, escalate into the discharge of loaded weapons at anybody else presuming to judge Pseudoscience’s teaching methods.

By Real Science I mean provable, repeatable, conclusive facts - a system of reason that questions evidence, refutes it where possible, and repeats the results predictably.

And by Pseudoscience I mean a teaching (sic) method (sic) employed mainly in homeschools based on a syllabus that includes ancient myths, biblical wizardry, divinely inspired prophecy, belief in the improvable existence of gods devils garden fairies traditional marriage, and other spurious conclusions derived from these provably false premises.  By Pseudoscience, I mean a system of knowledge (sic) that prefers to equate the validity of facts revealed through real evidence with factoids revealed in Old Testament scenarios. By Pseudoscience I mean a system where meanings of scientific facts are as open to differing but equally valid interpretations as lessons taught by great literary works of fiction and/or the Bible.   

The definitions above are loosely paraphrased from the more lucid but less funny definitions here. 

#16. Conventional marriage will remain strong despite marriage of The Gays.

The threat to traditional marriage posed by gay marriage will take an unexpected turn when people notice that marriage is not a zero sum game. It will be conclusively proven this year that when the numbers of people who marry others of the same sex increases, the number of people who marry persons of the opposite sex will not decline. (This sequiter ™ brought to you by Real Science and enlightened viewers like you).

Either that, or defenders of marriage will pass draconian laws against The Gays with penalties that will make the punishment of Sodom and Gomorrah seem like a casual barbeque among a small group of friends; penalties that will seem more like a grease fire in a tenement as it smolders into a smoking hole in the ground.

Just remember this prediction: whatever direction the pendulum swings, it will swing on this issue in 2013 like a drunken sailor on a stripper’s pole.