Nov 3, 2004
My one rant (I hope)
Before election day, I had resolved to take the results calmly. Having justintroduced both Hinduism and Buddhism in my World course, I have been cultivating a sense of duty that is separated from winning and losing. Do what I think is my duty. Don’t go high over the victories and low over the defeats. If the Hindus are right, life is fixed. Even if they are wrong, none of us truly know what, in the long run, would have been the better (or the worse) result.
Practical example? Consider how the 1980s might have been different if Gerald Ford had been reelected in 1976.
However, the plug-ugly second draft of an essay that just oozed into my computer seems to have shaken that noble resolve a bit loose. So I’m stuck with a rant that’s raging to breathe free.
What to do?
There is a story about two Buddhist monks going down the road. Their vows include not touching a female. On the road they come across a woman who has hurt her leg. One of the monks picks her up and carries her to a nearby place where she can get aid. The second monk accompanies them but does not touch the woman. They leave and walk, and walk, and walk. The first monk is serene. With each step the second monk is fixated more, and more, and more on the way his brother monk had broken has vow.
Finally the second monk speaks: “How could you break your vow like that? How come you keep walking so calmly when you did something so upsetting?
To which the first monk replies: “You are upset because you are still carrying her. I have put her down.”
So with apologies to anyone insulted by the metaphor (or anything else), my one rant in the hope that afterwards I can put the lady down
AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!
AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH !!!!!!!!!
AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!
AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!
AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!
In waltz time
ARGH ARGH ARGH
ARGH ARGH ARGH
ARGH ARGH ARGH
ARGH ARGH ARGH
ARGH ARGH ARGH
ARGH ARGH ARGH
ARGH ARGH ARGH
ARGH ARGH ARGH
ARGH ARGH ARGH
ARGH ARGH ARGH
ARGH ARGH ARGH
ARGH ARGH ARGH
In iambic pentameter
I’M PISSED I’M PISSED I’M PISSED I’M PISSED I’M PISSED!
or
THE FOOLS THE FOOLS THE FOOLS THE FOOLS THE FOOLS !
quotation from Harlan Ellison (originally concerning the Partridge Family)
HOLY MOTHER OF GOD! CAN SUCH THINGS TRULY BE?
with apologies to Edgar Allen Poe
“I think it is his mind! Yes, it is this! A pale blue mind with a film over it. Whenever it falls upon me my blood runs cold . . . .
more pretentious literary allusions
I want to retreat to my tent like Achilles. I want to wander Dublin on Blooms Day; sulk on a Stout, and disappear into a run-on sentence past Adam and even yell and affirm something yes yes yes but there is no peace the war began with the NCAA tournament and people cheered in the bar and you didn’t always know which team they were rooting for while the blues singer sang and the beer slid down and now the blind are voting for the blind to lead the blind and one day we may see through a glass darkly but when will us liberals be loved Buddy couldn’t you spare a ballot for the new boss who’s not quite the same as the old boss but sing it Celene Dion we will make it though the end of night and our love will go on, if we make it to the life boats if
//A breath//another breath//
open the window shade//a blue sky over the rusted oaks on a hill about a mile away//
it really is a beautiful day. I saw two morning stars as I drove in before dawn.
Patience is a virtue though displeasing often
I still have a lock of her hair, so I’m not the first monk. Another rant may come, and the hair of daily events will goad my anger and despair. But the hair is also a remembrance of the story, and the moral not intended when I started, that the chance to do good is still on the road, even if we do have to bend our vows sometime and we do have to carry a load a long time
I looked at that student’s paper again. Not great, but it’s salvageable, if he revises one more time.
Practical example? Consider how the 1980s might have been different if Gerald Ford had been reelected in 1976.
However, the plug-ugly second draft of an essay that just oozed into my computer seems to have shaken that noble resolve a bit loose. So I’m stuck with a rant that’s raging to breathe free.
What to do?
There is a story about two Buddhist monks going down the road. Their vows include not touching a female. On the road they come across a woman who has hurt her leg. One of the monks picks her up and carries her to a nearby place where she can get aid. The second monk accompanies them but does not touch the woman. They leave and walk, and walk, and walk. The first monk is serene. With each step the second monk is fixated more, and more, and more on the way his brother monk had broken has vow.
Finally the second monk speaks: “How could you break your vow like that? How come you keep walking so calmly when you did something so upsetting?
To which the first monk replies: “You are upset because you are still carrying her. I have put her down.”
So with apologies to anyone insulted by the metaphor (or anything else), my one rant in the hope that afterwards I can put the lady down
AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!
AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH !!!!!!!!!
AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!
AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!
AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!
In waltz time
ARGH ARGH ARGH
ARGH ARGH ARGH
ARGH ARGH ARGH
ARGH ARGH ARGH
ARGH ARGH ARGH
ARGH ARGH ARGH
ARGH ARGH ARGH
ARGH ARGH ARGH
ARGH ARGH ARGH
ARGH ARGH ARGH
ARGH ARGH ARGH
ARGH ARGH ARGH
In iambic pentameter
I’M PISSED I’M PISSED I’M PISSED I’M PISSED I’M PISSED!
or
THE FOOLS THE FOOLS THE FOOLS THE FOOLS THE FOOLS !
quotation from Harlan Ellison (originally concerning the Partridge Family)
HOLY MOTHER OF GOD! CAN SUCH THINGS TRULY BE?
with apologies to Edgar Allen Poe
“I think it is his mind! Yes, it is this! A pale blue mind with a film over it. Whenever it falls upon me my blood runs cold . . . .
more pretentious literary allusions
I want to retreat to my tent like Achilles. I want to wander Dublin on Blooms Day; sulk on a Stout, and disappear into a run-on sentence past Adam and even yell and affirm something yes yes yes but there is no peace the war began with the NCAA tournament and people cheered in the bar and you didn’t always know which team they were rooting for while the blues singer sang and the beer slid down and now the blind are voting for the blind to lead the blind and one day we may see through a glass darkly but when will us liberals be loved Buddy couldn’t you spare a ballot for the new boss who’s not quite the same as the old boss but sing it Celene Dion we will make it though the end of night and our love will go on, if we make it to the life boats if
//A breath//another breath//
open the window shade//a blue sky over the rusted oaks on a hill about a mile away//
it really is a beautiful day. I saw two morning stars as I drove in before dawn.
Patience is a virtue though displeasing often
I still have a lock of her hair, so I’m not the first monk. Another rant may come, and the hair of daily events will goad my anger and despair. But the hair is also a remembrance of the story, and the moral not intended when I started, that the chance to do good is still on the road, even if we do have to bend our vows sometime and we do have to carry a load a long time
I looked at that student’s paper again. Not great, but it’s salvageable, if he revises one more time.